Aiden
The first target blackened exactly where Aiden wanted.
The second did not.
He stopped the Starfire before it spread across the marked edge, and the moving panel slid past with its pale center untouched.
A bell sounded.
His opponent's panel stopped a moment later, three dark marks visible across its face.
"Two to three," the instructor said. "Change stations."
Aiden lowered his hand.
The flame was gone. His shoulder had not seized. The line on the measuring strip remained inside the approved limit.
He had still lost.
Someone behind the waiting line gave a low whistle at the other student's final mark. Aiden knew him well enough to know it was appreciation, not mockery.
It sounded unpleasant anyway.
He stepped back while the keeper reset the moving panels.
The student opposite him was taller, with a narrow face and the habit of pulling his collar away from his throat before each attempt. He had been losing points to the late target all week.
Today he had found it.
