“If I may have your attention, please?” Headmaster Elmaris shouted, once again reigniting Nadrina’s dread. “If both classes’ representatives would come to the center of the field, we will soon begin. Judges, you may take your seats at the table over there.” Three other professors that Nadrina didn’t recognize did as the headmaster asked. Nadrina dragged her lead-filled feet behind Codrin and Alek as they all made their way forward. She noticed Lilianna in the stands, giving her an encouraging wave. Nadrina just hoped her friend wouldn’t be too disappointed.

“This competition will comprise three rounds with three different representatives for each school of magic,” the headmaster said. “Each student will show their mastery of their specific magic type, and will be judged by the department heads behind me. Whichever of the two representatives who wins the bout for their magic school will earn a single point for their class. The class with the most points will be the winner. These matches are simply a demonstration, not a fight. Anyone unable to abide by the rules, or are found interfering in this competition in any way, will have themselves and their team disqualified.”

Turning to the two professors, Headmaster Elmaris said, “Since Professor Aldric’s class has been challenged, he may decide who—”

“Second,” Professor Aldric stated simply, cutting the headmaster off.

“Very well,” the headmaster replied, seeming to have expected that. “Professor Rainer, you may choose your starting candidate.”

Professor Rainer pointed to one of his students, a short girl with light brown hair tied back into a severe knot that drew attention to her fierce looking brown eyes. “Cira Barclay, go. Make sure not to disappoint.”

“Yes, professor,” the girl said, stepping into the arena while her classmates cheered her on. Two staff members wheeled in a large training dummy made of a hemp sack filled with hay to the center of the arena. The girl named Cira fixed the dummy with a scowl. Nadrina thought her face looked as if scowling was something she did often.

“When I give you the signal, you are to attack and destroy the dummy before you in whatever manner you deem best,” the headmaster said. “Are you ready?”

Cira simply nodded, her eyes never leaving the dummy.

“Begin.”

Cira’s hand shot out as she cried “Durna Raga!” Two long whips made of water, one in each of her hands, lashed out at the dummy, striking it crosswise from shoulders to hips. The force of the attack caused a crack to resonate across the training field, the stomach of the hemp dummy splitting open in a cloud of hay.