Okeria tilted his head to the side as he studied my armor. I could almost hear the gears turning in his head to find a solution.

“There’s always a symbol. It’s not quite as… romantic as rings or tattoos, since most organizations also have symbols, but it’s better than nothing.” Okeria eventually suggested. “Persephonia had a symbol, if I remember right. Ya could use that.”

Jun nodded, but looked to me before she said anything. I barely had to consider it, since it was an easy and painless solution to our problem. Though it wouldn’t completely show that we were engaged, it was probably the best thing we could do short of me taking off my armor. Though using Nia’s symbol probably wasn’t the best idea; she’d told me it was her signature, and parading it around would make it just a little too easy to forge.

“I like the symbol idea, but we can’t use Nia’s. We should come up with something else.”

“Agreed.” Jun, well, agreed. “Using Nia’s signature might bring up a few too many questions, including how two people have the name of a Matria who never married and doesn’t have any registered children.”

That was a very good point as well. “We could say that one of us was adopted, then the other one took the Persephonia name.”

Both Jun and Okeria seemed against my idea, looking at each other with mild surprise until they seemed to remember that I didn’t have the same cultural knowledge that they did. It was Okeria who eventually told me why my idea wouldn’t work.

“Ya just saw how difficult it is ta change someone’s name. And Persephonia adopting someone would be a very much known event, since she’s the kind of not popular that everyone keeps up with.” Okeria explained. He leaned back and pulled his mouth into a tight line, as if unsure if he wanted to say what had just come to mind. “We could play with that unpopularity. But that’s a big risk we’d be taking, since it completely rides on the question of if Endra’s masquerading around as Persephonia or if she’s happy being Endra.”

“Right. Good point.” Jun muttered, leaning on her elbows while she glanced over at me. A small smile graced her face for a second, and I felt a similar one come on. “Is that why The End called us engaged? Do humans take each other’s names when they get married?”

I… almost forgot that they knew as much about human traditions as I knew about theirs. Well, North American traditions at least. “Where I was from, it was pretty normal for one person to change their name when they got married. But some people kept their separate names, or hyphenated them to make a compound name. And no, they didn’t have to go through anything like a grafting to do it. Just some paperwork.”

“Huh. I guess that’s what happens when your name isn’t super important.” Jun said. “So how’d you decide who kept their name?”

“Well, where I was from it was usually the wife who’d give up her name. But some people just chose whatever the cooler sounding name was, or if one family name was… troublesome… they’d get rid of that one.” I explained. “But that’s all from assumptions and observations, so don’t expect it to be the same for all humans.”

“Gotcha. Good ta know for the inevitable culture clash that comes with a new species coming ‘round.” Okeria said knowingly. “It’d make it a whole lot easier for us Staura if we could just do something like that, right Juniper?”

Jun snorted at that. “You’re not the one who just got grafted a new name. Skies above, it would be so much easier.”

It did make things a whole lot more complicated, especially if a Staura wanted to conceal their identity. Hell, it would be impossible for a Staura to do exactly that. If literally anyone could tell exactly who you were from just looking at you, then there was no hiding. The police could instantly find you, a stalker would never lose you, and you could never escape an abusive family. And then someone could just come along and completely alter you at a genetic level so you don’t ever remember being someone else. Honestly, it sounded fucking terrifying to be a Staura.

“So what happens when two Staura get married? Which name gets passed down to their kids?” I asked, thinking about the fact that Jun and I now had the same name. “All Staura couples couldn’t have gone through with a grafting so they had the same name, right?”

Okeria nodded. “That’s why I was saying we’d need ta play on Persephonia’s bad reputation ta explain the two of ya, if it ever got out that ya were both Persephonias now. The only way a couple would have the same name is if they were related or if they’d been grafted that name. Since I’m guessing Juniper told ya about all the negatives surrounding grafts, ya know how you’ll be perceived by the people if ya go down that route.”

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“Badly.” Jun said grimly. “Very badly. And to answer the question that Okeria didn’t; the more important name always wins out. It’s why there’s so many Keratilys and Scaloveras out there; if a Keratily and a… Perek had a kid, that kid would always be born with the Keratily name.”

Okeria reeled back in an exaggerated show of being hurt. “Why’d ya use Perek as your example?”

“Hush, you.” Jun said offhandedly. “As far as I’m aware, here was only one time two kids from the same parents didn’t have the same name. Both names were somewhat old and important, but after an extensive study they proved that they were exactly the same amount of old and important.”

“Ah, yeah, the Jalapirri and Cropra. I remember them; eight kids evenly split amount two names.” Okeria cut in. “The mom ended up killing herself when all of the kids with her name died here on the all-world, right?”

Jun blinked in surprise. “They didn’t teach us that in school.”

“Oh. Probably because they didn’t want ta scare ya.” Okeria said with a wave of his hand. “The Cropra all came out in droves ta kill off the poor Jalapiri kids. I think one of Inopsy’s ancestors was assigned ta deal with the Cropra case, but I don’t remember what came of it. Except a quartet of dead kids and a mother full of grief.”

Jesus christ. I leaned back against a wall and shook my head; it was horrible to hear another reason why shit like that wasn’t exclusive to humans. “Did the mom not care about the kids without her name?”

Absolute silence answered me. Jun and Okeria exchanged tense glances, and I could tell that there was experience behind them. “Do ya want ta explain, Juniper, or should I?”

Jun looked up at me, then sighed. “I’ll do it. You can cut in if I get anything wrong.”

“Alright. I’ll sit back and listen, then.” Okeria said with sympathy plain in his voice.

Jun took a deep breath and closed her eyes, then slowly opened them and stared into my soul. “You remember how Keratily said she didn’t really care about anyone without the Keratily name? That’s ingrained into most of us, but not by genetics or anything. It’s taught to us. One parent ignores their kids while the other loves them way too much, to the point of doing anything for them. It’s just how people were raised. But kids don’t… work like that. As a kid, I wanted to be with my dad. My mom noticed that. And then I was shoved off to the side while all my siblings got treated better than me. Shoved off to another world.”

Okeria murmured sympathy, but didn’t move to actually comfort Jun. What he did do was stare intensely at me until I got the memo that comforting Jun was my job now. And I should’ve been doing it from the start.

I dismissed my armor and bent down beside her, pulling her into a side hug that she leaned into with a heavy sigh. “I didn’t let it bother me all that much, but then I met you. And you know the rest from there.”

That I did. “So you pretty much get raised by single parents, even if both of them are still in the picture? Isn’t that extremely fucked up?”

“Oh, of course it is. My dad beat the daylights out of my mom so often that I hated him, even when my mom wanted nothing to do with me.” Okeria laughed humorlessly. “Probably what drove me ta worship Thraiv so heavily, if I’m honest. But I gave my kids as much love as I possibly could, and so did Thraiv, so I’m hoping that that particular chain’s been broken. And Sebastian, don’t say what I’m thinking you’re about ta say. It plagues my mind every night I can’t see my kids.”

I frowned, unsure what it was that Okeria didn’t want me to say. Then I thought about it a little more, and it dawned on me. The chain could only be broken if both sides of the marriage loved their kids, which would only happen if Okeria’s kids married people like themselves. Something that wasn’t very likely if they were anomalies in their society.

“I won’t.” I said with a grim nod. Jun pressed a little closer to my chest, wrapping her arms around my stomach in an awkward position for a sitting hug. I had to admit; this was the happiest I’d ever felt with someone in a long time, even if I counted my old life. And it was in a fucking terrible situation. “If your kids come through to the all-world, we’ll make sure to protect them.”

Jun nodded in agreement. “Nobody deserves to get hurt for people that don’t know they exist.”

“Well, that’s war for ya, isn’t it?” Okeria chuckled, but there wasn’t any of his usual mirth behind it. He stared somberly at the wall behind me, only smiling slightly when he caught sight of Jun holding onto me tightly. “Sorry, kids, but I think I gotta be alone for a little bit. The old intrusive thoughts are rearing up again, and that calls for a conversation with the wife. But I can’t do that while the two of ya are here, since it’ll cost more battery than I’ve got ta give.”

“We understand completely.” Jun said quickly, letting go of the hug and getting to her feet while her armor spun up around her. “We’ll figure out a symbol or something to connect us before we get to the nexus, then you can help us put it on our armor. Send us a message if you want to talk again, okay?”

“Yeah. And thanks.” Okeria said with a small smile. Yet it felt the most genuine of all the ones I’d seen the man make. I donned my armor and turned to follow Jun, taking her outstretched hand in mine when she offered it. The last thing I heard before Okeria’s door slammed shut behind me was the clicking of armored feet on stone and the worried preenings of a man who wanted to look the best for his wife.