Events of Arrival

Episode 4: Rightful Spot

"Eyes up, dragon girl! Today's the day!" Nola's jeering--contrary to his belief--didn't snap Calder out of any deep thinking. She just rolled her eyes at him.

"Just skip straight to calling me slurs, Nola. It makes you look like less of a coward."

And that would be the last time she could enjoy calling him such a thing. While racial and sexual slurs were, of course, banned from use for professional reasons, it had been an occurrence of culture shock to learn that 'coward' was quite possibly the worst slur you could call an active duelist. 'Pussy' was fine, though.

Nola's face contorted into something resentful and nasty, but he otherwise fell silent. He turned away and kept walking, the coliseum rising to fill the arriving parties' view. Calder painted her mental exhaustion to a nearby Parrisol in one perfect expression, and Parrisol reflected it right back.

In reality, there was plenty to be reflecting on. Three long-ass months ago, Calder had been brand new to Aegis, butting heads with the government and testing the waters. Now here she was, four complete tryouts, a moveset decreed to be balanced, and one obstacle remaining between her and her dream.

Nola.

And if last week had been indicative of anything, he wasn't going to be nice about it.

***

May twenty-eighth had started off just like any other day. Calder, after waking up at a jarringly early hour for hopefully the last time, showered and dressed and almost ran out of time for food and dashed out the door like a lunatic, leaving Parrisol to catch up via portal fifteen minutes later. And then tryouts had started, and she'd made it halfway through the group before her name got called.

"NEXT MATCH BEGINS IN FORTY-FIVE SECONDS. APPLICANTS MESH AND MCKAYE, REPORT TO THE COLISEUM FLOOR."

And BAM! It was Nola. The quality of Calder's day had just dropped significantly. She sighed and Parrisol gave her a sympathetic look before saying "go kick his ass" and giving her a little shove in the direction of the ring.

"Put your fists up," Nola called as his opponent stalked towards him. Calder allowed herself a deep breath in and out, and mostly tuned out the PA's restrictions. At this point, it was all maxed-out time limits, for both of them. Fay's brilliant double-the-wait-time plan had gone over smashingly with the evaluators. They'd even thrown in the "five elites at once with a long rest" feature, which Calder knew for a fact she was never going to use. But for now, it was just up to her to get used to the new restraints.

In all seriousness, she didn't expect to strain herself for this fight. She just wanted to practice entrances and exits, hand and verbal commands. It was almost June. She'd have one more exit exam versus Nola next week, and that duel would make the decision as to who would move on and who would get benched for another couple tryouts.

So today's fight against Nola was by chance. And she actually forgot for the first few seconds exactly who she was fighting against.

She remembered when Nola charged up and socked her in the stomach. The blow sent her flying and rocking back onto her neck when she hit the ground, and the adrenaline suddenly flared up with the realization that my neck could've snapped and he's not going easy on me.

She rolled and jumped back to her feet and blocked the next two haymakers with her thigh and forearm, and caught the third with her left hand. Nola tried to land another low shot to her gut, but she caught his wrist and twisted it hard. He grunted and used the weird crossed-arm leverage to throw Calder straight over his head and into the dirt.

The wind was knocked straight out of her. She almost didn't wiggle away from the next series of blows, sweeping through Nola's legs and bringing him down to the ground. Still laying prone beside him, Calder took in the best breath she could and exhaled it as a plume of reddish-orange heat. She and Nola both scrambled to their feet at the same time, and then Nola would be seen breaking though the plume only to get decked by his opponent's fantastic reaction time. He would land back on his ass while Calder let up the heat and jogged backward, turning her head skyward and screaming for a dragon.