Heir of Mandalore

Chapter 2: Falling Apart

Five Years Later...

Aeja -

"If you are to take the creed you'll need to know it." My father spoke with a hint of exasperation.

"I know I know." I slumped in my chair.

"Try again."

"I swear on my name and the names of the ancestors that I shall walk the Way of Mandalore. And the words of the Creed..." I blinked.

"Shall be forever forged in my heart." Father butted in.

"Shall be forever forged in my heart. From this moment on, I shall..."

 "I shall-"

"Daddy!!"

A track of footsteps could be heard as a little girl with short curly brown hair rushed over to us. Father picked her up in his arms. "I didn't expect to see you here." he chuckled, taking off his helmet.

Uneven patches of his beard could be visible with a semi-circle mustache forming around his lip. His thick brown hair was showing a few signs of gray. Father used to tell us stories about his younger years, that he didn't take off his helmet due to the faction he was raised in. No one saw his face or he would be an apostate. Soon, he was granted the gift of walking both ways just like mother. Father did struggle with accepting the other way, mother's way, of Mandalorian culture. Even when Eros was born he struggled to take it off. "Mom said I could come see you." she giggled.

"Well I'm glad you stopped by to say hello, Rue." he kissed her forehead.

I smiled, watching my dad's affection toward his youngest. "Rue, you wish to show your sister what you learned today?" my father asked.

I sat up and leaned in. Rue smiled. "Ba'jur, beskar'gam, Ara'nov, aliit, Mando'a bal Mand'alor - An vencuyan mhi." she rehearsed.

I clapped. "Well done! Look at you, all grown up." I teased.

Most young Mandalorian children were taught this rhyme to help them learn the tenets of Resol'nare. It translated to: Education and armor, self-defense, our tribe, our language, our leader- all help us survive. It was torture trying to speak our native tongue because most of my family spoke in basic Aurebesh. It was like learning how to write and speak all over again. My father thought it would be a must to learn our vernacular. He used to say that he was learning along with us because he was taught a different side of Mandalore's history. I don't know how he enjoyed it. "We'll come back to this lesson shortly." he stood up with his daughter in his arms. "We don't want to keep your mother waiting."

I nodded my head as I stood up. The three of us journeyed through the wide halls of the palace. I strangled behind when I noticed a friend of mine walking past us. He stopped, bowed his head with his hand diagonal against his chest, then continued on. He did his best to sneak a piece of parchment into my hand as we kept walking. I stole a look at the paper.

Meet me in the gardens 6 clicks from dinner

 A smile blossomed on my face. What do you have in store now Kipp? We reached the dining hall and each took our place at the table. Mother was head with father on her right side. Grogu and Eros took their place next to father and Rue and I took our seats by mother. We enjoyed gi dumpling soup, a meaty dish made from fish known as gi. It was often served in cantinas around Mandalore but even the royal family appreciated the taste. Rue on the other hand had pog soup, a bowl many young Mandalorians were raised on. There was also varos, our native fruit, and uj'alayi for dessert. "How're your studies coming along?" my mother asked.