If you thought the tale of the dead Village of Delhi/Samudrala tale was the end of the lunatic courtroom reality - no, the sleep of reason never failed to produce monsters as readily as through the kind-of-minds of the very, very, very privileged court inhabitants. These are their stories.
Long ago, in a prosperous kingdom where lawyers still believed that statutes meant what they said, there existed a venerable law known simply as the Dragon Act. It was not a complicated statute. In fact, dragon scholars often remarked that it was one of the few laws in the kingdom that even judges could understand. It contained only one proposition of consequence. Whenever Fact A (such as death of an attorney's client) occurred, a Pearl Dragon was born. No committee voted upon its birth. No court approved it. No lawyer drafted it. The dragon appeared by operation of the Dragon Act itself.
The Pearl Dragon was admired throughout the kingdom. It was magnificent, with shimmering mother-of-pearl scales that reflected every color of the rainbow. It always possessed three heads, neither more nor fewer, and every apprentice lawyer could recite their names before being admitted to the Guild. The first head was called Jurisdiction Abates. The second was Attorney's Authority to Represent Ends. The third was Post-Death Filings Are Nullities. No dragon naturalist had ever observed one head arriving before the others or departing without them. They were born together because the Dragon Act had so ordained.
For generations this arrangement caused no controversy. Whenever Fact A occurred, the Pearl Dragon quietly appeared, everyone acknowledged its existence, and the legal world adjusted itself accordingly. Lawyers might quarrel about fees, procedure, or footnotes, but no respectable advocate ever argued with the Dragon Act itself. It was considered unhealthy to quarrel with dragons that had been born directly from statute.
Then one autumn morning, Fact A occurred again.
The kingdom naturally expected the familiar Pearl Dragon. Instead, before anyone had time to consult the Dragon Act, the Royal Dragon Keeper hurried into the Great Hall with a broad smile upon her face.
"There is no need to concern yourselves with that old dragon," she announced. "We have our own."
Behind her shuffled the strangest creature anyone had ever seen. It vaguely resembled a dragon, but only in the charitable way that a scarecrow resembles a knight. Its scales were stitched together from mismatched scraps. Entire sections appeared to have been repaired overnight. One wing seemed borrowed from another species entirely. It looked less like a creature born of nature than one assembled from spare parts in a government workshop.
The villagers stared in respectful silence until one elderly dragon scholar finally cleared his throat.
"Forgive me," he said politely, "but that is not the dragon described in the Dragon Act."
The Dragon Keeper looked almost amused.
"Precisely," she replied. "This is our dragon."
The patched creature raised its first head and proclaimed with great dignity, "Jurisdiction abates."
The scholar nodded.
"Very good."
The dragon continued.
"...except where jurisdiction continues to be useful."
Its second head then spoke.
"Attorney's authority to represent ends."
Again the scholar nodded approvingly.
"...except where representation ought to continue."
Finally the third head lifted itself proudly.
"Post-death filings are nullities."
The scholar smiled.
"...except these post-death filings."
The smile slowly disappeared.
"I don't believe," the scholar said after a long pause, "that such a dragon exists."
The Dragon Keeper laughed.
"It certainly exists. You are looking directly at it."
"But not under the Dragon Act."
"That," she answered pleasantly, "is because you continue reading the Dragon Act."
At precisely that moment the Royal Judge entered the hall. He was widely admired for many qualities, but above all for his extraordinary confidence in deciding dragon cases without opening dragon books. A diligent clerk immediately approached him carrying the Dragon Act bound in beautiful blue leather.
"Your Honor," whispered the clerk, "perhaps the statute should be consulted."
The Judge accepted the book graciously.
Then, with great ceremony, he placed it face down upon the bench.
"There," he said.
"It can no longer distract the Court."
The scholar gathered his courage.
"Your Honor, the Dragon Act recognizes only the Pearl Dragon."
The Judge nodded thoughtfully.
"An interesting historical observation."
"It is not historical, Your Honor. It is today's law."
The Dragon Keeper gently stroked the patched creature.
"We have our own dragon."
The scholar pointed toward the far corner of the courtroom, where behind a heavy iron gate sat the Pearl Dragon, quietly shimmering in the darkness, all three heads watching the proceedings with patient dignity.
"But the Pearl Dragon is still here."
"No," replied the Dragon Keeper.
"Our dragon is here."
"But that is not the Dragon Act dragon."
"We also," she explained kindly, "have our own truth" - here: the client may be dead and alive at the same time! - because if the client is dead and counsel's authority ceases, and counsel kept going and stating to the court he is alive - it means unthinkable - counsel can be sanctioned! No, not THIS counsel!"
"It says that when Fact A occurs, the Pearl Dragon is born."
"Our truth is different."
"It says attorney's authority ends."
"Our dragon has improved that feature."
"It says post-death filings become nullities."
"Our dragon is more practical."
"It says jurisdiction abates."
"Our dragon is more flexible."
The scholar closed the statute.
"I begin to understand."
"No," corrected the Dragon Keeper.
"You continue to misunderstand."
"How so?"
"You keep believing that the Dragon Act governs dragons."
The scholar looked genuinely puzzled.
"What governs them then?"
The Dragon Keeper smiled.
"Our dragon."
The courtroom fell silent.
The scholar slowly raised one finger toward the locked cage.
"I am not asking the Court to create a different dragon."
"I am merely asking the Court to acknowledge the dragon that the Dragon Act itself created."
The Dragon Keeper gasped in horror.
The Judge frowned gravely.
After a moment of deep reflection he announced his decision.
"The scholar shall be sanctioned."
The clerk hesitated.
"For inventing a dragon?"
"No."
"For insisting upon the Dragon Act when the Court already has its own dragon."
