“Get it together Val. Just because he has the size advantage, experience advantage, underhandedness… I still need to try! I mean, I’m fucked, but I’m not giving this weasel an easy win.” She looks around her dorm, somewhat solemnly, believing this to be her last time to have possessions of her own.

As they walk through the hall, the towering Michael sneers at Valerie, refusing to spend a single breath on the rat he sees beneath him. This’ll be a clean sweep, he thinks. Not having bothered to prepare any letters in case he lost, he rushes past Valerie, into the arena, past the magical barrier, into the sealed dome where he would claim his prize.

“sigh What a self-righteous prick.” Valerie mutters, earning an exhale from an event overseer, who was to perform the ceremony, and ensure nothing goes awry during the duel.

Valerie soon crosses the barrier too, with a flat, grassy battlefield ahead of her, with Michael cockily fiddling with a small purple construct of magic, flipping it between his fingers.

“Valerie Lexabue, take your place and state your intent to duel.” A voice bellows from all sides “I am prepared, and I will duel.” Valerie says, with little confidence. “I am ready to du-” Michael starts **“Michael Scalia, take your place and state your intent to duel."** "I WAS GOING TO- Ugh, fine. I intend to duel.” Michael says, annoyed by the interruption, but undeterred.

A horn blares, and the duel begins. Immediately, Michael begins pelting her with shards of purple energy, like a flurry of knives. Valerie quickly reacts, and begins to draw a circle midair with her hands, creating a pink sigil in which almost all of the knives get caught, flattening into a disk. All, but one, which grazes her shoulder, drawing blood.

“Neat trick, Valley girl.” Michael hollers, mocking her injuries. Enraged, Valerie sends the disk straight for Michael. He brushes it aside, only sustaining a minor cut on his knuckle. “All you got? Heh.” Michael begins approaching, readying a bevy of shards, spikes and snares, confident.

Valerie takes a deep breath, and readies herself for the onslaught. Feet away, Michael begins lifting his hands to attack, then stumbles. “Wha-” he utters, before realizing he forgot to dismiss the shard that cut Valerie. Steadying himself, still ready to attack, Michael picks up the fragment.

In an act of desperation, Valerie draws two sigils, gripping them in each hand, and rushes Michael, attempting to take control of as many constructs as she could. She gets a good chunk, but is only barely able to use them to block the remaining blows, falling to the ground.

“I’d ask for any last words, but that’s a bit played out. So, I’ll just claim my prize now.” Michael taunts as he presses a snare across her throat. Gagging, as darkness claims the edge of her vision, Valerie attempts to levitate a small sliver she has left, and jams it straight into Michael’s eardrum. “FUCK” He screams, recoiling from shock and pain.

Wasting no time, Valerie gasps for air, and tackles Michael, drawing a sigil in the shape of a fist, and with all her remaining strength, punches straight through it, ramming her magically augmented fist into Mike’s face, stunning him. “Ghck-” he sputters, disoriented and enraged. Valerie, exhausted from spending so much mana on her attacks, and her lack of air, manages to draw one more sigil, which glides toward Mike’s face.

He attempts to dodge, but as it contacts his nose, his eyes begin fluttering, lulled into sleep. She beat him. In pain, exhausted, and triumphant, Val rolls onto her back, catching her breath. The dome lowers, and Michael is lifted onto a stretcher, toward the slab for the ceremony.