Nomenclature
The practice is as old as Skaia itself. Whether Prospitian or Dersite, you start your life with nothing more than a given set of initials. Then, as time presses on and your role in life becomes more clear, those initials become words befitting said role. The naming ceremony is usually a brief yet stiffly formal affair, with a longer yet equally stiff and formal reception afterwards. It has always been conducted by a member of royalty. Yours was no exception.
The fact that Black Queen had precided over your ceremony was as unfortunate as having the initials JN. When you were younger, you'd sometimes fretted over your initials. After all, there aren't many words that begin with the letter J. As you reluctantly kneeled before her, doing your best to seem as if you weren't nervous about this at all, she stared at you like she was trying to identify a nasty stain on the carpet. You returned her gaze with equal hardness, listening to her spit out syllables in that cold and silky tone.
"Jejune Notary."
After the reception, you looked up the word jejune in both a dictionary and a thesaurus, then furiously ripped each book to shreds.
Soon you developed as much of a hatred for your job as for your name. The paperwork and the dress code and the Black Queen and... gah. So infuriating. But you learned some useful things, such as the existence of forms specifically designed to let someone change their name. Yes. This was perfect solution. Granted, it was the only solution, but it was still the best solution not requiring bloodshed.
Just one detail remained. What would you call yourself? As soon as the thought entered your mind, it was followed by a flood of voices. They were another thing you hated. Mostly you hated how you couldn't stab them and how they would never shut up, no matter how many times you shouted back. Not to mention how stupid their commands and suggestions were at times. But you had to admit that sometimes there could be jewels among the sludge. And this time you managed to find a downright beautiful exception.
Not much later, you kicked her door open and paused to listen to the satisfying bang. She turned to look at you and it was like your naming ceremony all over again. The same disdainful stare and cold tone. Your fingers twitched, desiring to curl around any available sharp blade.
"Yes, Jejune Notary? What is it?"
One of the voices advised strangling her, and you had to fight not to act on it.
"My name is Jack Noir now," you snarled through gritted teeth.
"I take it you've filled out the proper redesignation forms?"
"They've already been certified and validated."
"All the forms?"
"All of them."
She took a moment to stare you down. You were certain that she knew you hadn't bothered to fill out anything, much less sign or stamp it. Her reply finally broke the cold silence between you.
"Very well, then. You may go."
You slammed the door behind you harder than when you burst in, a small smile gracing your lips. Perhaps someday you would grow to hate your name again, change it once again. Maybe even more than once. But then and there, out of all the things you hate, it was the rare exception.