Birthdays in the Heartlands

George had worked so hard the last weeks that he was starting to wake up tired. It was the last few weeks of the Month of the Many. The grains needed harvesting before the Month of Decay, any crops that month would be beyond harvesting. Those would be offerings to Thanatos for the coming winter.
If they wanted to survive the winter they needed to harvest as much as they could. His father worked him to the bone so they could have a cozy winter. It didn't make him any less tired. George got out of bed and stumbled his way down the ladder and to the kitchen.
"Nope, stay out of the kitchen," his mother said. She shifted to block his way.
"Mum, I need something before working."
She reached behind her and handed him some bread. He was too tired to try and figure out her strange behavior. Grabbing the bread he slogged himself out to the well to get water with his bread.
George slaved over the fields, taking breaks for water and enjoying the occasional breeze. A few more days of this grueling work, he thought he might not make it. Looking out to the fields to see how much more they needed to harvest was overwhelming. The call for dinner came. George and his two older brothers rushed in to get their seats.
"Barry, you're in my seat," George cried.
"Oh hush and take my seat you baby," the middle brother huffed. 
They scrambled for food, their mother hushing them long enough to pray. The kids dug in, the dinner didn't feel as filling as George would have hoped, though he did know that he was eating just as much as they usually did. George stood to take his bowl to the wash pot. His mother stopped him, grabbing the bowls and brushing him back to his seat. 
George was confused, everyone was acting strangely today. Suddenly his eyes were covered by soft hands. His older sister covered his eyes. 
"Jasmine, what are you doing?" George struggled a little bit, while his sister giggled.
When she let go he saw a lemon creme cake sitting in the middle of the table.
"Happy Birthday!" the family shouted. George's mother cut the cake and gave George the first slice. They ate in silence for a while when their father stood up and walked out of the common room. When he came back, he was holding a small animal skin that was wrapping something. 
"Here ya go George. You're 13 now, its about time you had your own." 
George could feel its weight as his father placed the gift in his hand. It was made of metal, George knew that much which meant was important. His family only bought metal tools when they needed them to last. Opening the skin, he saw the sheath and handle of a knife. George gasped.
"It was your grandfather's. Since your brother's got their knives before granddad passed away, it was fitting to give you his."
George looked down at the knife with a smile. This was a big moment for him. The time when his father trusted him with a deadly weapon, but also a valuable tool. It was that knife that George was pulling out of the fallen monster. This last one was too close, he thought. Thank god he kept his grandfather's knife close at hand.

History

As communities of farmers, it is very important to keep track of time. This tracking of time naturally came to counting the years of life. As calendars developed individuals started to mark the day of birth for people. At first, these were just a scale for parents but after the first remembered plague the survivors blessed every year they survived.
They started to celebrate the day of birth. Early traditions started with bringing out some extra food that had been stored up. As the wealth of the region improved these celebrations became more notable. Cakes, special treats, feasts became more common. Gifts were uncommon, but became more common as farmers gave them their own tools or animals.
The very rich throw lavish parties with streams of gifts, which has created a form of showing status. How individuals celebrate it across the Heartlands is varied based on their local customs and how wealthy the community is. Some areas even have a rite of passage, a challenge they must overcome to become an adult. These rites varied from community to community and even household to household depending on the family occupation.