Natalia watched as Matias let loose with his spell. Shards, dozens of them, erupted from his hands and flew downrange. At least half of them hit, striking the target's right arm and splattering the back wall with ice.

"A good shot," exclaimed Grand Master Kelvin. He was standing to the side, along with Mistress Dominique and Master Gregori, the judges of the competition, though there was little open to interpretation. All that counted here were the points earned. Much like an archery competition, the target was painted, but instead of a circle, it was a mannequin with coloured parts to indicate the value of a hit. The most points were rewarded for a head shot and the more shards that hit, the better the score.

Mistress Nina walked down to the target, and the watching students fell silent as she counted the hits. She returned to the judges, announcing the score, "Three arm hits for a total of nine points."

Natalia did the math in her head. Each arm hit was worth three, and now, with all three men having cast, they were ahead by more than twelve points. The women had done well, hitting the target every time, but so far, neither of them had been able to conjure more than two or three shards. It would take a massive score to make up the shortfall, and it fell to Natalia to accomplish it.

"Next," called out the grand master.

Natalia made her way to the casting line. She stared at the target, looking over its strange colours. A head shot was worth the most but was the smallest target. The body was next, covered by a breastplate, and was naturally the largest target of all, but a body shot wouldn't win them the competition. She focused on the head, closing her eyes to visualize it.

The room had grown quiet as she readied herself. Normally she would step forward to cast, as that was the accepted custom, but this time she stepped back with her left foot, bracing herself against the kickback of the spell. The words flowed from her lips, and then the spell was released.

Instead of a cluster of small shards of ice, a single giant spike flew down the range, striking the chest of the target dead centre, creating a noise like a gong and hurling the dummy to the floor.

Natalia looked on in annoyance. She had meant to hit the head, and now she had lost the competition. Her miscalculation had cost them the prize, and her classmates would not forgive her.

Mistress Nina walked back to the target. Natalia could hear the complaints already, starting as whispers that grew in intensity the longer they waited for results. She looked downrange where the mistress was lifting the target. Instead of replacing it, she carried it back towards the judges, tucking it awkwardly under one arm.