Solomon smiled slightly at the praise. Okay, so maybe he wasn't doing as badly as he imagined. With newfound confidence, he resumed practicing his fireball.

This time, the image came easier. Of course, he got careless initially, and the first few fireballs were so weak, they didn't even reach the target before evaporating into the air. He spent a few minutes focusing on the image, and trying to measure what amount of magic was just right. He realized, that for something like this, it was all about pacing. His earlier blunders taught him that when it came to magic, he had to be aware of his limits, first and foremost.

So after every fireball, he paused, and took note of the feeling. He increased and decreased the power, sometimes he'd try changing the image he had of making a fireball - which resulted in some [i]spectacular[/i] failures - and at one point became to overconfident and accidentally burned himself. None of his shots hit the target where he aimed. Some of them missed completely. Eventually, he hit something of an equilibrium.

His limits known, he Solomon stared straight at his target. He formed the image in his head, and broke it, creating a fireball and hurtling it towards his target. For the first time, it hit exactly where he wanted it to. Then he made another, and another, and another.

All of them hit roughly the same area. By the end, Solomon was perspiring and wheezing for breath, and he was well aware he was had hit his limit of casting spells for the day. Still, he looked at what was left of his target and grinned. Not bad, he told himself, not bad at all.