Wyrm sat in the magistrate’s office with his family and a boy named Ruzi, waiting for Ann to finish talking to the magistrate. Shay was adopting him. Mishtali was adopting Jaidu, and Thailyn was adopting Ruzi. Ann and the magistrate were trying to work out the issue of citizenship. Neither Mishtali nor Shay was Menthanlan. Finally, they were done. The magistrate and Ann approached. The rest stood. Wyrm had been told to stay sitting. He still grew weak easily. “Shawtila va…” The magistrate started and then hesitated. “There’s no va,” Ann whispered. “Only Thailyn uses it.” “Shawtila, do you request to adopt the boy, currently known as Wyrm, son of Mishtali?” “I do,” Shay agreed. “And you accept that if his birth mother is found, you will give up all claims on the boy?” Shay growled. “I do not.” “She’s a dragon,” Ann whispered. “Once family, always family.” She looked to Shay. “Do you accept that his birth mother’s authority will supersede your own?” Shay frowned but nodded. “I do.” “Is that acceptable?” She asked the magistrate. He nodded. “Mishtali, do you accept Shawtila’s adoption of your son? Sorry, I have to ask.” “I do,” Mishtali agreed. “Shawtila, do you swear to care for and protect the boy currently known as Wyrm, at least until he comes of age? Again, I have to ask.” The magistrate knew that much about dragons. They took care of children. Shay nodded. “I do.” “And you accept that you are responsible for him and his actions until he comes of age?” “I do.” “Very well. You are hereby recognized as the legal parent of the boy, currently known as Wyrm, and shall henceforth be known as Tercala va Mishtali ton Shawtila. And then, Wyrm had a name, mother, and a father. He felt more like a real person and less like a freak than he had ever felt in his life. The magistrate repeated the ceremony with Mishtali and Jaidu and then with Thailyn and Ruzi. “Congratulations,” he finally said. “You are now all a family.” Ann hugged Ruzi. “Welcome to the family, little brother.” She grinned. Then, she hugged Jaidu. “Congratulations, Aunt Jaidu.” She turned to Wyrm. “Uncle Tercala va Mishtali ton Shawtila, congratulations on finding at least part of your family. And now you have a name.” Wyrm nodded. He had a name. And it was the one he would have had if he hadn’t been hidden from his father. He was glad of that. But it was foreign to him. “For a little while, do you think I still could be called Wyrm?” The end