Elias, now a lean, ever-observant four-year-old, felt the exhilarating pull of the Aetheric Compendium. The book had confirmed his deep-seated suspicion: this world, like his last, operated on an underlying system. But unlike the digital "glitches" of his previous existence, this system was called Aether, a tangible force that could be manipulated. He understood the Church's monopoly, but that only solidified his resolve to understand it himself.
He began his experiments in the quiet solitude of his small, spartan room, or during bath times where his splashing could mask subtle movements. His analytical mind, honed by a lifetime of modern scientific principles, immediately sought connections. If Aether flowed, if it could be commanded, then it must obey certain rules, like energy or matter. He recalled concepts of thermodynamics – heat transfer, molecular motion. If he could influence aether to generate heat, it stood to reason he could direct it.
His first attempts were purely mental, a focused will to create warmth. It was a subtle, almost imperceptible sensation at first, a faint blush on his skin, a warmth in the air around him. He pushed, mentally, experimenting with focus and intent. He discovered that aether, when channeled, was incredibly responsive to his will, yet utterly incapable of harming him directly. He found he could force immense heat onto his skin, but it would simply dissipate, harmlessly, into the air, as if his own body rejected the destructive application. It confirmed a peculiar safety mechanism built into the very fabric of this magic, at least for self-infliction.
With heat mastery, simple hygiene became a new kind of luxury. He learned to generate a gentle, sustained warmth over his body, evaporating stray water droplets after his bath, leaving him completely dry without the rough rub of a towel. This led to an even bolder idea: using heat to loosen grime and then water to wash it away, an entirely self-contained cleaning process. He envisioned streams of clean water, manipulated directly from the air's humidity or drawn from a small basin, washing away the residue of the day.
One afternoon, in the shared washroom, Elias was focused on a particularly stubborn patch of mud on his arm. He concentrated, willing a focused stream of warmth to loosen it, followed by a small, swirling current of clean water to rinse it away. The mud lifted, dissolved, and vanished as if wiped clean by an invisible hand.
"Elias! What are you doing?" Seraphina's voice, bright and innocent, startled him. She stood in the doorway, a small wooden doll clutched in her hand, her eyes wide as she stared at his now spotless arm. "Your arm was muddy a moment ago! And there's no water on the floor!"
Elias's mind, accustomed to rapid calculation, spun. He couldn't confess. Not to Seraphina. Not yet. He grinned, a wide, guileless smile, and held up his hands, wiggling his fingers. "It's a game, Sera! A special game! See?" He pretended to rub his arm vigorously. "I just... I rub it really, really fast, and then the mud just disappears! Like magic!" He even conjured a tiny, almost imperceptible puff of warm air to emphasize the "rubbing."
Seraphina's eyes widened further, captivated. "Really? Show me! Show me again!" She lunged forward, eagerly holding out her own slightly smudged hand.
Elias chuckled, enjoying her reaction. "No, no! It only works if I do it. It's my special trick, from the little sprites in the garden! They taught me!" He then proceeded to subtly use his heat and water magic on Seraphina's hand, making it appear as if his rapid rubbing was doing the work. Seraphina gasped in delight as her hand became clean.
"Wow! You're so good at magic tricks, Elias!" she exclaimed, utterly convinced.
Elias smiled, a private, almost weary satisfaction settling over him. The immediate crisis averted. Seraphina was a wonderful audience, an easy mark for his deceptions. Yet, the encounter served as a sharp reminder: even with Valerius gone, vigilance was paramount. His new powers, however basic, were dangerous in the wrong hands, and their application required absolute discretion. The lessons from the Aetheric Compendium were profound, but the greater lesson, as always, was control – not just of magic, but of himself.