There's a new world for the winning (1/2)

Writers: Corrin, Duskdog
Date Posted: 7th September 2025

Characters: M'kadja, T'lonas
Description: Akadja presents himself for candidacy
Location: Dragonsfall Weyr
Date: month 6, day 28 of Turn 12
Notes: Mentioned: R’bharra, G’zan

M'kadja

T'lonas

Akadja had waited several days. He took his time, studying the riders around them, searching for some common thread that bound them all. If there was one, he never found it. Some were loud and boastful, swaggering like they’d been born to a ballad. Others barely raised their voices, shadows in their own halls. They came in every shape, every size, with tempers as varied as cotholders at market. No secret sign, no hidden mark. Maybe his hunch was right after all-- maybe a rider could be any man at all and the fuss about their suitability was… what had that crafter said? False scarcity.

So when he finally reported to the Weyrlingmaster’s office, he went just as himself-- or what he imagined was a more scrubbed up, palatable version of himself. One that wore only a single belt knife at his side and said “Yes, sir” and “No, sir.” In fact, he had resolved to say whatever he had to secure his candidacy. But he wouldn't grovel. They probably wouldn't like that anyway.

If, in the bronzerider's office, he was surprised to see soft frivolities such as a bowl of candy and little crocheted dragons lining a shelf, he didn't show it. A man on a mission, Akadja strode up to the desk and held out his precious token. “I've come to take my place.”

T’lonas took in the young man’s appearance briefly -- he didn’t really recognize him, but that wasn’t unusual, with so many new people in the Weyr recently, and of course new Searches happening over time. He took the offered token, giving it a brief inspection just to make sure it was genuine, before looking up again, his face lighting up. “Welcome! Please do sit down, make yourself comfortable! I’m T’lonas -- as I’m sure you’re aware, if someone directed you to me. What can I call you, son?”

“Akadja, sir.” He had been expecting scrutiny, not warmth. The bright welcome was so foreign it instinctively made him more suspicious than comfortable, but he kept those feelings close and his voice level. “I have two dragons now that say I’ve got what it takes -- at least that's what their riders tell me. I’d like to see if they’re right.”

“Absolutely, if the Searchdragons like the look of you, then you belong in front of the eggs if at all possible. Now,” he took out a ledger, “Akadja, you said? Is that A-k-a-d-j-a? And do you remember the Searchriders? Or the dragons, if you don’t remember the riders’ names. A lot of people remember the dragons first, if they meet them,” he said cheerfully.

“That's right.” Akadja straightened with a touch of pride. A holdless caravan was no harper hall, but both he and Naldhavi had scraped together enough learning to puzzle out a ledger line when it mattered. Better to know what the crafters wrote in ink than to swallow their word whole.

“It was R’bharra and Reveroth that Searched me first,“ he said, letting the names roll off his tongue with confident ease. Remembering was no chore for him. Anyone without the wit to recall a person with the power to change their lives was someone who deserved to be left in the dust. “G’zan and Panghuth seconded it.”

“Lovely,” said T’lonas, jotting that down. “Good men, good men. Now.” He looked back up, still smiling. “Where are you from, Akadja, and how old are you? Any craft experience? Tell me a bit about yourself!”

Good men. Akadja searched the bronzerider for a sardonic twist, for any trace of irony in words or tone. Nothing. Did he not know about the men and their holdless past? Or could he actually not care? There was a way to quickly find out.

“I’m one of the holdless,” he said, throwing down the word like a gauntlet. His eyes locked on the bronzerider’s, daring him to flinch.

Last updated on the October 3rd 2025

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There's a new world for the winning (1/2)