Three years passed in the blink of an eye for a mature consciousness like mine, but they were eons for a body growing this slowly. I was four years old now—the age when noble children begin to learn reading and writing—but I had already finished memorizing every book in my father's modest library.
I discovered that this world, called "Aethers," is governed by the "Law of Encryption." Traditional mages believe that Raw Essence is a rampaging beast that can only be tamed through pre-set molds (incantations). My theory, however, was entirely different. I saw Essence as a liquid that takes the shape of its container, and my container was my pure will.
Every dawn, before the castle stirred, I would sit on my balcony overlooking the "Misty Valley." I practiced what I termed "Marrow Purification via Essence."
The greatest challenge I faced was the frailty of my human body. The Raw Essence I absorbed was too potent; if I allowed it to flow randomly, it would tear my veins asunder. Thus, I began a precise engineering process: I encrypted the Essence inside my cells to perform the function of "restoration and reinforcement" rather than "explosion."
"Pull... compress... circulate..."
I imagined the gray Essence as microscopic silken threads weaving an invisible layer of durability around my bones. I didn't desire massive muscles; rather, I aspired to a body with such energy density that every hair would act as a magical conductor.
Once, while I was deep in meditation, I sensed a strange presence behind the door. It wasn't the sound of footsteps, but a "disturbance" in the threads of Essence I had spread like a spiderweb around the room.
'A spy? No, this pulse is familiar.'
The door opened slowly, and my father entered. His face bore an expression I had never seen before—a mixture of exhaustion and a grim resolve. He sat on a wooden chair before me, his eyes reflecting the blood of a thousand battles.
"Kaelos," he said in a low voice. "The mage you saw years ago... he never returned to the Academy. He sent a secret missive to the 'Oversight Council.' They now believe you are a 'Deviant'—a child born with Essence tainted by the Void."
I didn't flinch. I maintained my fabricated childhood calm, but my mind was already analyzing the consequences. In the lore of this world, "Deviants" are omens of calamity, often hunted down before they reach adulthood.
"What will you do, Father?" I asked, using his title for the first time in months.
He placed a heavy hand on my shoulder. "The Edges of Nihility are far from the Council's eyes, but they will send a 'Proctor' soon. If they find you cannot control your power, or that you are using unencrypted Essence... they will take you to the 'White Tower' for purification. You will never return."
I had to learn "Forgery." If the world demanded encrypted magic and primitive elements, I would give them exactly what they wanted, while shielding my true power in the depths.
I began studying Fire Magic. For the mages here, it required conjuring feelings of rage or heat and using words like "Ignis." For me, it was simply a matter of increasing the vibration speed of Essence particles at a specific point until the air ignited.
I spent entire nights in the cellar, muffling the glow of my experiments. I would create small fireballs, then "spin" threads of Essence around them to encapsulate them, preventing any leak of heat or light. It was an incredible exercise in control: holding a miniature sun in your palm without the person behind the door suspecting a thing.
During this period, I discovered something both terrifying and exhilarating. As I delved into the layers of my consciousness, I stumbled upon a dark "gateway" at the base of my magical core. It wasn't part of my acquired power; it was something that had transitioned with me from my previous life... or perhaps it was the very reason I had died there.
Whenever I drew near this gate, time seemed to slow down. My heartbeat grew distant, and the sound of the wind turned into a sluggish whisper.
'Time magic? No... it is the magic of Absolute Space.'
The appointed day arrived in mid-winter. A black carriage pulled by horses draped in silver armor arrived. A lean man stepped out, wearing a metal mask that covered half his face. He carried a staff mounted with an "Eye of Truth" gemstone, said to reveal any magical deception.
The test was held in the castle courtyard amidst falling snow. My father stood at a distance, his hand never leaving the hilt of his sword, while the guards and servants gathered in a funerary silence.
"Kaelos, son of Silas," the Proctor said in a cold, metallic voice. "Step forward."
I walked with confident strides, playing the role of a slightly frightened prodigy. The Proctor raised his staff, and a wave of golden light swept over my body. I felt it penetrating my pores, searching for that rebellious gray Essence.
At that moment, I executed my plan. I locked the Essence of the Void into the deepest points of my marrow and coated my core with a thin layer of raw Fire Essence I had "cooked" beforehand for this very purpose.
"Show me what you possess," the Proctor commanded.
I raised my right hand, feigning intense concentration. I murmured the word "Ignis" with a slightly trembling voice. Suddenly, a fountain of clear red flames erupted from my palm. It was powerful and beautiful, but "ordinary" by the standards of academic magic.
The Proctor watched the "Eye of Truth" on his staff. It did not vibrate. To him, I was merely a genius of the Fire element—a child with a large mana capacity who followed the rules.
"Pure flames... good control for your age," the Proctor said tonelessly. "But the report stated you manipulated Raw Essence."
"It was merely a misjudgment by the previous mage," my father intervened firmly. "The child was experiencing his first 'Mana Riot,' and it is well known that energy manifests unstably in such moments."
The Proctor stared at me for several long seconds, and I felt as though he were trying to pierce my skull. Then, he lowered his staff. "Perhaps. I will report that you are a first-rate talent in Elemental Magic. Prepare yourself, Lord Silas. At the age of eight, he will be summoned to the Imperial Academy."
As the carriage departed, everyone breathed a sigh of relief, but I knew the real battle had only just begun. I had bought four years of peace, but I was now on the Empire's radar.
I returned to my room and relaxed my grip on the Essence. Suddenly, I coughed black blood onto the white snow on my balcony.
'Damn it...' I thought, wiping my mouth. 'Locking Raw Essence in the marrow for that long has started to eat me from the inside. This is the price I pay to live as a lie.'
I looked toward the horizon, where the Imperial Academy lay. There, I would find the real books, the forbidden scrolls, and perhaps... people like me.
'Wait for me,' I whispered to the wind. 'I will be the perfect student by day... and the engineer who tears down the temple of your magic by night.'