Sunken Iron

A name is but a guest of reality. The master may die while the guest remains, and the world still cannot tell the difference. The visible identify people through documents; the hidden claim lives through surnames. Documents can be altered, surnames borrowed. One official paper, half a lifetime wearing a false face. Take the bones of the dead and trade them for the skin of the living. Either starve to death holding on to your own name, or live under someone else's. He chose to become that dead man, as silent as the dead, yet more patient than they. Amid flashing blades and clashing swords, he has one question to ask: The name-bearer does not die, and the named do not live.