The midday sun bore down on a small open arena, where a young boy stood at its center, dressed in ceremonial examination robes that fluttered slightly in the warm breeze. The hum of whispered conversations filled the rafters above, where dozens of students leaned over the railings, eager to witness the next hopeful demonstrate their magic.

Four teachers stood nearby, their faces a mix of curiosity and skepticism as they clutched clipboards and quills. One of them, a stern woman with piercing eyes, stepped forward and addressed the boy.

"Candidate, produce your wand," she commanded.

The boy nodded, his lips curling into a confident smirk. Without a word, he extended his arm downward, plunging it into the very ground beneath him. Gasps rippled through the audience as the dirt seemed to mold and twist, wrapping itself around his arm. The arena trembled slightly as the earth obeyed his will, rising and shaping itself into a solid form.

Moments later, the tremor ceased, and the ground hardened into an intricately carved wand that floated just above his outstretched arm. With a dramatic flourish, the boy grabbed the wand from the air, spinning it once in his hand before taking a defiant stance.

The teachers exchanged quiet murmurs, their quills scribbling furiously across their grading sheets.

"Take aim and fire at will," the stern teacher ordered, gesturing toward a dummy-shaped target at the far end of the arena.

The boy raised his wand, his confidence radiating through every movement. With a sharp flick upward, the ground beneath him cracked and rose, producing several fist-sized clumps of dirt that hovered briefly before launching forward with incredible speed. The projectiles hit their mark in quick succession, each impact sending shockwaves through the air.

The final strike landed with explosive force, sending shockwaves through the air as the arena around the dummy erupted. The wall behind it shattered, chunks of stone and dirt raining down as a massive cloud of dust engulfed the area. For a moment, there was only silence, the audience holding their breath in stunned disbelief.

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The boy turned on his heel with a smug grin, flourishing his cape as though his success were undeniable. Cheers and murmurs of awe began to ripple through the audience as the dust started to settle.

Two teachers wasted no time, soaring into the air on enchanted platforms, their robes billowing as they glided toward the destruction. They hovered over the debris, their eyes scanning the devastation with sharp precision. The crowd fell silent, their earlier excitement now replaced by anticipation and unease.

Moments later, the stern voice of one of the teachers rang out, cutting through the tension like a blade.

"Failure."

The single word echoed through the arena, silencing even the faintest whispers. The teachers descended from the air, their expressions unreadable, as confusion rippled through the crowd.

"He failed? How?"

"What went wrong?"

The whispers grew louder, mingled with scattered laughter from a few students. The boy’s smug expression faltered, giving way to stunned disbelief as the weight of the announcement sunk in.

Sitting atop a wall in a shadowed corner of the arena, another boy watched the scene unfold with quiet detachment. His hair fell messily over his face, but his sharp eyes betrayed his focus. When the announcement of failure rang out, he let out a small sigh, shaking his head as if the result were inevitable.

"Of course," he muttered under his breath. "Flair over function."

One of the teachers hovering over the debris raised their arm, their fingers tracing a quick arc through the air. A swirling cyclone of wind erupted from their gesture, cutting through the lingering dust and revealing the scene below.

Amidst the destruction, the dummy stood untouched, its surface unmarred by the violent display. The sharp intake of breath from the crowd was audible as the realization dawned.

The teacher’s voice rang out, steady and final. "The candidate failed to hit the target. As such, he fails this portion of the examination."

The crowd erupted once more, confusion and disbelief competing with mocking laughter and murmured criticism. The boy in the center of the arena stood frozen, his earlier confidence shattered as his eyes locked onto the unharmed dummy.

Meanwhile, the boy perched atop the wall closed a notebook he had been jotting notes in with a quiet snap, a faint look of amusement flickering across his face. The examination continued, but his thoughts were already elsewhere, the scene below confirming everything he had come to expect. His own trial was only a week away, and he had no intention of making the same mistakes.