Searing pain shot through Margo's face. 

She spat blood onto the arena's dirt floor, the liquid's warm iron immediately filling her mouth and mixing with the ice that had struck her, causing her to gag at the taste. 

Margo cursed, realizing she had lost focus on her illusion magic, a few of her duplicates vanishing into thin air as they mimicked her gagging.

The crowd roared at the strike, an echo of excitement shooting through the crowd in the low wooden bleachers surrounding the duel. 

 Realizing her momentary lapse, she attempted to counter the boy's ice-based attacks with fire-based combat magic. 

She had spent the past summer practicing elemental magic, despite it being far from her wheelhouse of illusion magic. There had been a rumor that the latest innities were full of elemental specializations, and  Margo had spent the summer focusing on elemental magic in preparation, hoping to secure her a spot in the duals.

However, her reaction to being hit indicated to her opponent that he had hit the correct illusion, and the lanky, dark-skinned man with a thin mustache before her grinned.

In an instant, the icicles began pelting Margo from above, while sharp icy points emerged from the dirt below her feet,  poking into the soles of her feet through the insoles of her boots, causing Margo to stumble back.

A large bell sounded.

She had stepped out of the dual circle.

"Marcus Van Senrus, Pass," A loud voice suddenly announced across the Duals Arena. "Margo Nadowessi, Denied... again."

The speaker's loud laugh boomed around the low-roofed wooden arena, echoing through the onlookers at this year's Dual Initiation Trails.

"Shit. Shit. Shit." Margo grumbled, picking up her ropers to see the damage the icles had done to their soles. A crushing wave of disappointment and anger surged through her veins, her heart only falling further at the state of her favorite calf-skin boots.

This was Margo's second attempt to enter the pool of contestants for the Duals this year, adding to her past two years' worth of attempts. 

With her senior year at the university starting in a month, she was running out of chances.

"Better luck next week, Little Snake." The voice announced, before calling the next round of contestants. "Next, Dumas vs Tangarus."

Margo felt her blood become liquid fire in her veins. 

Little Snake, she hated that he had called her that.

Margo shot a glare at the wooden booth that loomed over the oval dirt arena, where the source of the mocking voice boomed from. She spat once more into the dirt below, but this time, not just to rid herself of the blood in her mouth. 

The Dual's President, Brian Dean, sat in a large leather-backed chair, wearing a cocky smirk as he tilted his cream stetson in her direction. He reclined in the booth surrounded by his fellow committee members, or, as everyone knew, his closest friends. 

The group of boys laughed at Margo's defeat, the sound barely muffled by the thin glass that separated them from the arena below, each one taking his turn to cast an arrogant glance at Margo.

Brian Dean had been a pain in her side since they were both among the few children in their country schoolhouse. Brian had called her Little Snake as soon as he first met her, teasing her for her braided hair.

 That he claimed her long braids made her look 'like Medusa'. Justifying his mockery by chasing her around and poking her with sharp sticks. When she tried to fight back, he claimed to be the hero Perseus, protecting the school from the Evil Little Snake Girl.

She would come home crying from his taunting, mockery, and roughhousing, the ordeals leaving scratches that would litter her arms. It made her father furious, his anger only to be met with dismissal when he tried to complain to her teachers. Brian's father was the sheriff of their small town. There was only so much reprimanding the teachers could do without risking their own form of punishment. 

"Well, you know Margo, Little Snake, is not such a bad name." Her father announced one night as he held a young, crying Margo in his arms. "Snakes are wise. They are healers. They possess the miraculous gift of shedding their skin and becoming a new person. I would much rather have Little Snake in my arms than that little skin-walker of a boy."

Her father's words had made Margo laugh, and from then on, he called her his Little Snake until the day he passed away. 

 Because of her father, the name no longer bothered her, especially since Brian had moved a few years later, leaving her to forget about him until she reached university. 

The name had come to hold the warmth of a father's love.

Now, hearing it again from Brian's mouth, all she felt was pain—a butchering of a name that her father had regarded so warmly.

It had been almost three years since her father's passing, but in this moment, she felt the pain hit her in full force again.

Margo could feel tears well up in her eyes as her face began to warm. Blinking back the tears and hoping others might assume they were from the pain of the ice's hit, Margo carefully placed her fingers in her mouth to heal the cut, wiping her hands on her brown tweed trousers after the wound disappeared. 

She slowly exited the arena through the wooden gate, climbing the brick steps to seat herself on the lowest level of the arena's bleachers. As she ran her fingers through her long, dark hair, she calmed down, twisting it back into the loose bun that sat on top of her head. 

 As she sat, blinking back tears,  she watched the next two contestants enter the arena.  

A tall, muscular, olive-skinned boy with a shaved head confidently stepped through the cross-beamed wooden gate from the left side of the arena. He wore a loose, gray button-up shirt and blue jeans, accompanied by a large turquoise belt buckle. Margo immediately recognized him. He had been a constant contestant in the duels for the past three years; his specialization was in water manipulation magic. He had been kicked out last year due to consistent no-shows at the duels. He must have been reinitiating to requalify. 

The tall man let out a chuckle as he stepped into the arena, glancing at the boys in the overhead wooden booth, before cockily whistling as his opponent entered the arena.

Walking through the gate opposite him was a tall, curvy woman who entered the arena as if she owned the room. She wore the university's uniform, consisting of dark cowhide trousers and a loose white button-up shirt,  embroidered with images of prairie flowers.

However, in addition to the uniform, she wore a large dark metal bevor that covered her nose to her shoulders. Her long, dirty-blond hair was tied into a high ponytail, with wisps falling around her pale face. Her lashes were unnaturally dark, her eyelids an uncanny pink that sparked in the arena's low lights, wearing makeup that seemed more fitting for a dancehall than a duel.

Margo blinked in surprise, the pain of her own dual loss slowly lessening at the surprise of seeing another girl. 

It was well known that Duals was a male-dominated field; few women wanted to participate, and even fewer attempted to do so. And the few who did were never quite 'good enough' to make it past the initiation rounds. 

Despite this, Margo continued to try, even though her attempts to join were mocked and ridiculed. But, over the years, seeing all the denied female entries, Margo noticed the pattern. Women were often pitted against male dual partners whose magic was the strongest in the batch, or even against previous contestants. Not one woman had ever passed.  

"What the hell is she wearing?" A sorcerer scoffed from the row behind Margo. "Is that some prop? There's no way that's her heartstone."  

Margo was wondering the same thing. The bevor the sorceress wore was a strange addition to her uniform. It was very plain and simple, yet far too large to be made of the average heartstone.

Margo leaned forward, intrigued by this match. Knowing that there was no way this girl could win against her opponent due to his experience, yet a small part of her held out hope at the sight of the woman's confidence.

The two opposing sorcerers stood back to back in the center of the arena; the woman standing only a few inches shorter than her burly opponent. 

A bell sounded off, and both sorcerers took one step away from each other. At each ring, they took an additional large step, counting off to ten rings, before both of them swiveled to face each other at the edge of the large circle that had been carved into the dirt, marking the beginning of the duel. 

Swiftly, the large man lifted his hands, and water began to appear from the air around the edge of the arena. A wave of admiration mumbled through the crowd as the waves splashed from the arena onto some of the spectators in the crowd. 

Grunting, the man began swirling his outstretched arms in a circle, causing the water to mimic his actions, the waves of water swirling around the edge of the arena. The clear blue water was slowly turning into a muddy and rocky brown as it picked up dirt and debris from the arena floor. 

The woman opposite him remained still, her head cocked as she watched his magic surround them. She made no moves against it and instead turned slowly to watch the water swirl around the arena, as if admiring a butterfly as it fluttered around her. 

In one swift motion, the man clapped his hands together, and the water erupted from all sides, swiftly surrounding the woman,  consuming her in a cocoon of dirty water. 

The crowd let out a few gasps, and bursts of light lit up inside the murky water, as if the woman was fighting back within. However, as the seconds drew on and the flashes of light died down, the murmuring of the crowd grew more concerned. 

If he held the magic much longer, the woman could drown. 

Margo held her breath; she had no idea what this woman specialized in, but she hoped it hadn't been fire magic.

The burly opponent stood crouched, his arms extended, sweat dripping from his brow as he maintained his water cocoon, a cocky chuckle escaping his lips as the woman failed to break out. 

Slowly, a small opening formed in the bottom of the cocoon, and a white ostrich boot, followed by a dark cowhide pant leg, carefully stepped out of the water. The woman emerged unscathed, her white blouse not even damp. 

"Tada!" She shouted with a laugh, raising her hand dramatically, as she stepped from the water. "Your magic is so cool. I tried using fire magic inside, but it had no impact. But, maybe that's just because I need to practice fire magic more." She joked, laughing at herself. "What else can you do? Wait, can you make the water swirl again? I wanna try something." 

Margo held back a laugh, both at the woman's innocent words and the shocked expression from the men around the arena. Even Brian's eyes were wide in shock as he reclined in his leather chair, his face darkened into an irritated scowl as he watched the duel before him.

The woman's opponent stepped back in surprise as the water cocoon dropped and flowed across the arena, washing over the woman once again; yet, the water did not touch her. The ground around her remained dry despite the ankle-deep water that flooded the arena floor. 

 Margo grinned, amused by this sudden turn of events.

 The woman began walking closer to her opponent,  the murky water before her parting at pristine white leather boots. 

The man stepped back uncertainly, confused by her approach, tripping over a rock that had been dislodged by his water magic, causing him to fall backward.

A large bell sounded.

He had fallen out of the Dual circle.

The woman immediately hopped up and down, clapping her hands and doing a pleased dance at herself.

"Holly Dumas- Denied."

 The woman froze, letting out a disbelieving scoff as her head cocked towards the wooden box on the opposite side of the arena. 

Her brows scrunched in confusion, "Denied? What do you mean denied?" She shouted as she waved an accusing finger at the box, "I won! You can't be denied if you win." 

"Squak Squak Squak." Brian teased back, reclining into his leather seat as he folded his hands on his belt buckle. "Wow, a pretty little bird, but man, what an annoying voice."

A chuckle passed through the crowd, causing the girl's ears to turn red with humiliation.

"Y-you can't deny-" She shouted again, her voice gentler this time.

"Actually, as the ones in charge, we can do whatever we want." Brian interrupted. "You are boring. Even if you pushed your competitor out, we had no show of your magic. That's no fun for everyone watching or competing. You are denied, Miss Dumas. Please leave the arena.'

The woman scoffed before she swerved on her heels and stomped out of the arena without looking back.

Margo looked down at her own hands, disappointment washing over her.

If that girl won and didn't make it into the duals, what hope was there for her? 

She felt sick to her stomach. A hopelessness she had never felt before landed on her shoulders. 

Taking one last look up at the jerks who were laughing and squaking at the poor girl, Margo slowly stood, not caring to watch the next match, and left the old wooden arena herself.

As she pushed through the swing doors, she paused at the large stone statue of Thunderbird that stood protectively before the old wooden Dual arena.

Thunderbird, the first and most powerful sorcerer on the Great Plains, loomed carved into concrete above her. Looking protectively ahead, while in one hand, he held a small stone, and in the other, a pile of blueberries.

 Margo blinked up at the statue of her idol; the stories her father told constantly revolved around Thunderbird's life and the lessons he imparted to the people he led. 

How the man had become a mighty warrior after possessing a seemingly worthless power, yet gained more power than he had ever possessed, through bravery and kindness.

 All her life, she wanted to be a powerful sorceress, like Thunderbird in her father's stories.

 Everyone in the Duals thought she couldn't be, not with her illusion magic. Yet still, each year, she fought to prove them wrong. 

She would become a story her father would have been proud to tell. 

Margo still had a few more weeks of initiations until the official Duals began. 

She had to keep trying.

_______

Author's Note! 

First impressions?