PURPOSE | The Mandalorian

XVIII

The day was unbearably hot, sweat dripping off the tip of my nose. The sun on Mandalore was unforgiving in the summer, and having sun-sensitive skin was never a good thing. During the summer months, while everyone ran around during training without shirts and in shorts, I had to wear pants and long sleeve shirts, constantly dripping with sweat. But I learned from a very early age that I would rather be sweating profusely than sunburnt.

But today, I wasn't worried about training or running the course. Today was the day that I earned my first suit of armor. I've been dreaming of this day ever since I was old enough to know my own name. And the daughter of a Clan Leader at that. The only other day that compared to The Armoring was the day you swore the Creed. But that day was a long ways away. I had many more years of training to complete before I would be allowed to swear my allegiance to Mandalore.

But to finally earn your first full suit of armor was when you began to earn respect from your peers. And not to be arrogant, but I was the first in my squadron to earn my armor. At eight years old, it was a rarity. Most trainees didn't earn their first suit of armor until they were ten or eleven. But I was my mother's daughter. I had to be a prodigy, or I wasn't good enough.

But now, my mother and father proudly flanked me, my little twin sisters cradled in my parents arms. Together, we walked into the Armorer's Forge, and I stared in awe at the sheer magnitude of the room.

The Armorer stood behind the cauldron in the center of the room, her tools crossed over her chest. "I offer you my congratulations, Jeyna," She said with a respectful nod, her voice a deadly purr behind her mask, "Your parents must be very proud."

"Proud indeed," My father said pleasantly, patting me on the shoulder with his free hand. I glanced up at him, straight into his bright white helmet, smiling widely. I couldn't see his face, but I always imagined him smiling back at me.

My mother's grip tightened on her staff. "She has proven her worth to her religion, and to her clan," She declared, looking down at me with pride. "She is ready."

"I agree, Clan Leader," The Armorer said with another nod, looking down on me through her visor.

"I have been watching you train for many years, Jeyna," She began, using her iron tools to lift ingots of gleaming black beskar into the cauldron before her. "You shall be a defender of justice, always seeking the truth and fighting for what is right." She dropped more ingots into the cauldron. "This is why you will wear the black beskar. So others will see your unwavering pursuit of justice, and know that they can put their faith in you."

I stared at her in awe as she worked, swiftly gliding across the stone floor of the Forge. The heat in the room was even more sweltering that it was outside, but I barely even noticed it as she began hammering and shaping my armor. The hours passed by like minutes, and soon enough, the Armorer was finished.

"Your set is complete," She stated, placing a neat stack of newly forged armor into my arms. She continued, "Wear it with pride, young one. I have a feeling you will one day become more than all of us could have hoped."

I continued reliving many memories, most of them flipping past like flickering lights. The next memory that I relived fully was an even happier one, perhaps my most cherished memory.

It was early afternoon, so the mess was pretty empty. There were few older Mandalorians inside, and they were all sitting at the same table. Their helmets were removed, and they were talking quietly amongst each other. My father was with them, his white armor dulled and dirt crusted. He must have ran the course with the others this morning.