Matrin Accepts Search - Finally!
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Xanadu Weyr - Caverns

A massive cavern in it's own right, this one has been skillfully adapted for human habitation. The high ceilings have been painted a light, soft ivory, as are the walls where numerous tapestries hang to provide brilliant color and insulation from the stone. The floor has been left in its natural state, pale pink granite speckled through with glittering mica and dark flecks of basalt, leveled carefully but kept sufficiently rough to avoid slips.
The cavern itself is loosely divided into areas, each one set up to be suitable for some segment of the Weyr's population. The most frequently occupied area, however, is the one near the Kitchens where tables of varying sizes provide a place to sit down and eat or chat and a buffet of consumables is almost always kept stocked. Its plain that on most days, this area wouldn't accommodate anywhere near the full population of the Weyr and equally plain that on such occasions when a formal meal is laid out, tables are appropriated from all the other areas.
A big fireplace is set into the wall near the Kitchens as well, several comfortable chairs nearby providing haunts for elderly residents or riders who like a good view of all that happens. Rugs cover the floor in strategic spots, all of them abstract or geometric in design and most in the softly neutral colors of undyed wool.

Exits lead off in all directions, a big archway the largest and that leading outside. Shallow stairs to the west lead to the offices and administration area while tunnels to the east lead to the infirmary, kitchen and resident's quarters. Southwards, a sloping tunnel leads down to the hot springs.


Light rain falls from a grey-black sky without moon or stars. It's chilly and there's a fresh wind from the east. Raindrops patter against the leaves, invisible in the darkness. It makes the warmth and light of the living caverns seem that much brighter, and more inviting.

It's also late enough that, other than a cadre of wherhandlers and other nightowls, the place is pretty deserted. So the young Weyrleader, sitting at his wing's formal table, is pretty obvious, bent down over paperwork and a mug of klah.

Late enough, then, that Matrin has thought better of seeking the Weyrleader in the offices. The chance of even finding him here at this hour is slim, but Matrin, fresh from Harper Hall, looks for him just the same. In case the Weyrleader requests it, he carries an enormous binder tucked under his arm. Quick steps and quicker eyes let him scan the nearly empty cavern, and he spots Xe'ter quickly enough. Making equally short work of the journey across the caverns, he only pauses when he realizes that taking a seat at the wing-specific might be a faux pas. So instead he just sort of hovers, drawing on a smile that doesn't quite reach somber eyes, and clears his throat. "Evening, Weyrleader. Do you have a few moments?"

Xe'ter looks up at the sound of approaching bootsteps, and has pushed his work aside by the time the Harper's reached the table. He uses one booted foot to push out a chair, "Good evening, Harper…finally back? Have a seat…is it still raining miserably out there?"

Matrin only eyes the chair speculatively for a beat, then drops into it with a fair amount of easy grace. He settles the binder on top of the table, then shrugs out of his damp wool coat and hangs it over the back of the next chair over. His hair is dark enough that the droplets in it might not be too obvious but he nods his head to confirm that, "It is indeed still raining out there, but it's nice in here." He starts with the easy bit, nudging the binder toward Xe'ter. It's full of typed pages in spite of Matrin's relative lack of comfort with the computers, but hand-written notes are paperclipped to the more official looking pages here and there. It's all organized into color-coded tabbed sections. "I think it's done, at least as a first draft. If you think there need to be changes I can certainly make them."

Xe'ter's eyes light up like a child that's just been offered a new fishing gaff, "Really? So soon?" To say that the bronzerider sounds pleased AND impressed is an understatement, "I'll look right over it." But then he does a slight doubletake at the time, and chuckles, "Tomorrow." He wrinkles his nose a bit, and does look at the paperwork with some semblence of longing. But not for long, "And your decision, Matrin? I don't suppose you thought I was actually jesting with you. Romth's remembered well enough to continue to ask me if you've said yes yet." He clears his throat, "I believe he wants the eggs painted."

For really, Matrin nods. For so soon, he chuckles. "It really isn't that soon. It's been well over a month and a request by the Weyrleader does tend to get precedence. I confess to wrangling a few Apprentices to type for me - they are much faster than I am." He nods at the suggestion that it happen tomorrow, but gives the binder another push toward the younger man so he can more easily snag it whenever he's ready to go. It gives him a moment to breath and nod while a frown finds its way to his brow. "I have. I spoke with the Hall about the way they usually handle candidates and weyrlings and things. And I am truly honored that Romth sees something in me." Absently he fiddles with the cover of the binder, and finally lifts his bright blue eyes. "As far as you are concerned, if I do Impress can I go on with some craft duties? I realize not through Weyrlinghood, but after that? I hate to sound like my loyalties will be divided, but I do think my law and policy speciality can benefit the Weyr even if I am a rider." He stops rambling then, his smile turning a bit sheepish.

Xe'ter glances up from the beloved stack of papers, and then actually fixes Matrin with his own jewel toned yes, "Matrin…" He can hardly call a man older than himself 'lad', but it sort of lingers there all the same. "…Your speciality in law and policy would be a boon to the Weyr…dragon or no dragon. I'd be most honored if you'd stand…if you don't mind the supposed 'bad luck' inherent in being searched by the Weyrleader."

There's another steadying breath and Matrin nods. A bit of steel comes into the sharp angle of his jaw and the line of his shoulders and he nods again, firmer this time. "Well sir, I'm Bitran born but I've always said I make my own luck." Something about that brings the usual sparkle back into his eyes and the determined line of his mouth softens into a smirk. "I imagine I'll be odd man out in the candidate class in many ways, so we might as well add one more, hmm?" Smile lingering he offers the Weyrleader a hand. "It would be my pleasure to accept the offer to stand for Romth and Seryth's clutch." And so he's said it, and lets out a quick breath.

Funny, the way Xe'ter looks decidedly relieved…but this time? He reaches into his chest pocket, and produces the stark white knot of a Candidate, "Aye, well…we'd be pleased and honored to have ye, Matrin…and Matrin ye'll be till the eggs crack. Afterwards, well." He lays the knot down in hand's grasp. "Thea's come up with some…innovations. So ye have the choice of staying in the barracks, or in yer own quarters, as ye like…the rest of the revised rules are up on the wall in the barracks…we'll need t'go there anyhow, to write your name down official like."

There's a hint of relief playing around Matrin's expression as well, if only to have his feet on the path instead of in the limbo he's been floating around for the past several days. He takes the knot, fingering it and turning it this way and that. "Do I wear it in addition to the Harper one, or instead of?" There's no sign of rebellion either way, but just simple curiosity. He has no idea how this is supposed to work. News of Thea's innovations have him brightening a bit more, and he pushes out his chair, reaching for his damp coat. "Now? Or… you can finish your klah first I guess. I think I'd rather stay in my quarters with my studio for now."

Xe'ter nods a bit, "Aye, well…you wear it…when yer a Candidate, yer only loyalty's to the Weyr…not that a lot of young bucks believe that. Usually a scrap or two at least every Candidate class. Jest put your Harper one aside…if ye Impress, ye'll be a Weyrling till you graduate, and then ye can discuss it with the Hall if ye want to continue yer crafting. No one'll make ye, of course." He chuckles, "Of course, if ye DO Impress, I can tell ye that this wing could use a decent diplomat."

Matrin nods again - he's doing a lot of that as he tries to absorb everything. His first real reluctance shows as he takes off his Harper knot and slips it into the pocket of his coat, but he does it just the same, and replaces it with the Candidate knot. "Yes sir. That's a lot of ifs and a long way in the future, but if that time comes I'd certainly be happy to talk about it." His jaw is back to firm, determined to do this thing.

Xe'ter nods a bit, and then rises to his feet, "Come along…we'll get yer name on the list. Welcome to Candidacy, Matrin. Twill be an honor."


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