The day after the ceremony, Aetos discovered that transcendent spiritual experiences didn't excuse one from routine. If anything, his new status meant his schedule became more demanding than ever.
Brother Matthias woke him at fourth bell, the deep bronze tone reverberating through darkness. "Time for meditation, little eagle."
"But I just became one with the infinite wind," Aetos groaned, burrowing deeper into his blankets. "Can't I sleep in just once?"
"The infinite wind will still be there after meditation. Up."
Grumbling but obedient, Aetos dressed and made his way to the meditation hall. Where once he'd been the youngest by years, now several newer students filled the cushions—children who looked at him with awe after hearing about yesterday's Awakening.
"Don't stare," he whispered to a gap-toothed seven-year-old. "I'm still just Aetos."
"But you floated," the child whispered back. "And made tornado! Brother Petros said you almost blew roof off!"
"That's exagger—" Aetos began, then paused. Had he almost blown the roof off? The ceremony was already becoming dreamlike in his memory, details fuzzing except for that central revelation: he and wind were not separate things.
Personal meditation lasted an hour, then came group conditioning. Here, Aetos's pneuma heart showed its worth. While other students gasped through calisthenics and running, he maintained steady breathing, his body converting food to energy with impossible efficiency.
"Fifty more push-ups," barked Brother Thomas, the weapons master who ran morning conditioning. "Aetos, make it a hundred since you're not even sweating yet."
"That's not fair!" Markos protested, struggling through his fortieth push-up.
"Life's not fair," Thomas replied. "Some are born strong, some fast, some clever. Aetos burns food like a forge burns coal. Would you complain that a bird flies better than you?"
Aetos completed his hundred without complaint, though his stomach was already growling for breakfast. The real challenge wasn't the exercise—it was maintaining form while his body screamed for fuel.
Breakfast was heaven. Brother Benedictus had prepared extra portions, knowing Aetos would be ravenous after yesterday's fast and ceremony. The boy consumed porridge, bread, cheese, dried fruits, and milk with focused intensity while other students watched in familiar amazement.
"Where does it all go?" a new student asked.
"Everywhere," Daphne explained, having witnessed this scene countless times. "His pneuma circulation runs so hot it burns through food like kindling. Master Alexei says his resting body temperature is three degrees higher than normal."
Academic classes came next, and here Aetos struggled more than in any physical exercise. Mathematics made sense when applied to trajectories and wind patterns, but abstract calculations left him fidgeting. History engaged him only when discussing great pneuma warriors of the past. Language studies were torture—why memorise conjugations when the wind spoke in feelings, not words?
"The Third Athenian Dynasty established trade routes that—Aetos, are you listening?" Brother Leon's voice cut through his daydream.
"The wind patterns would have made sea travel difficult in summer," Aetos offered, hoping it was relevant.
"We're discussing overland routes."
"Oh. Sorry, Brother."
But philosophy class with Master Zephyrus was different. Here, abstract concepts connected to practical application.
"What is strength?" Zephyrus asked the assembled students.
Various answers came: "Physical power!" "Defeating enemies!" "Protecting others!"
"Aetos?" Zephyrus prompted.
The boy thought carefully. Since his Awakening, certain truths seemed clearer. "Strength is knowing when not to use your power."
"Elaborate."
"The wind could level cities, but mostly it just carries seeds and rain. Real strength serves life, not death."
Zephyrus smiled approvingly. "This is wisdom. Power plus restraint equals true strength. Remember this when your abilities grow."
Elemental practice after lunch was what Aetos lived for. The advanced students gathered in the outer courtyard where they could work without damaging temple structures. Here, under careful supervision, they pushed their limits.
"Today, we work on sustained manipulation," Brother Anemoi announced. The air-affinity master was a stern man who tolerated no shortcuts. "Lifting is easy. Any child can throw wind at something. But can you hold a feather in place for an hour? Can you maintain a breeze at exactly five knots for extended periods? Control defines mastery."
They practiced with feathers, each student trying to hold one motionless at eye level. Most managed minutes before concentration wavered. Aetos held three feathers in perfect formation while carrying on a conversation with Daphne about lunch.
"You're not even trying," Markos accused.
"I am trying," Aetos protested. "I'm trying not to accidentally create a cyclone. Holding back is harder than letting go."
This was his new challenge. Where before he'd worked to manifest abilities, now he had to learn restraint. The Awakening had removed barriers between him and his element. Now every emotion rippled through the air around him. Excitement brought gusts, sadness created doldrums, anger spawned dust devils.
"Focus," Brother Anemoi instructed. "Emotion is energy, but you must be its master, not its slave. Aetos, demonstrate the Stillness exercise."
Aetos centred himself, breathing deep. The playful breezes around him gradually calmed until the air in his vicinity became preternaturally still. Not dead—that would be forcing absence. Instead, it was perfectly balanced, potential energy held in harmonious suspension.
He maintained it for five minutes before a butterfly distracted him and small whirlwinds spun off his delighted laughter.
Advanced forms training came late afternoon. Here, Master Zephyrus worked with each student individually, refining their interpretations of classical techniques. Aetos had progressed beyond the Dancing Wind to more martial applications.
"The Hammer of Heaven," Zephyrus demonstrated. "Compress air above your fist, release on impact. The pneuma damage exceeds the physical blow."
Aetos tried it on a practice dummy, accidentally shredding the straw figure and cracking the stone wall behind it.
"Less enthusiasm, more precision," Zephyrus advised. "You're not trying to level buildings."
"Not yet," Aetos muttered, then yelped as the master's staff rapped his knuckles.
"Dangerous thinking. Power fantasies lead to power corruption. You want to level buildings? Become a siege engineer. We train protectors here, not destroyers."
Temple duties after dinner were supposed to be meditative—sweeping floors, tending gardens, maintaining shrines. But even here, Aetos found ways to integrate his pneuma. He could sweep an entire corridor with one directed gust, carry water for gardens on cushions of air, dust shrines without touching them.
"You're missing the point," Brother Matthias observed, watching Aetos clean windows using miniature cyclones. "The work isn't the goal. The mindfulness is."
"But I am mindful," Aetos argued. "I'm mindful of air pressure, particulate distribution, surface tension—"
"Mindful of everything except the present moment. Do it by hand."
Evening meditation should have been calming, but since his Awakening, these sessions had become... interesting. When Aetos meditated deeply, the air around him responded. Incense smoke formed impossible geometries. Candle flames bent at right angles. Once, he'd unconsciously lifted every loose object in the hall into a slowly rotating orbit.
Personal study time was for technique scrolls and pneuma theory. Aetos devoured anything related to air manipulation but struggled with general texts. Why read about earth-shaping when he'd never touch that element?
"Because understanding other elements helps you counter them," Daphne explained patiently. "When you fight an earth-user—"
"I'll fly above them," Aetos said confidently.
"And when they throw rocks?"
"I'll dodge."
"And when they create walls?"
"I'll go over."
"And when—" Daphne sighed. "Never mind. You'll learn the hard way, won't you?"
"Probably," Aetos admitted cheerfully.
By the time he collapsed into bed each night, even his pneuma-enhanced stamina was exhausted. But it was a good exhaustion, the kind that came from pushing limits and discovering new ones.
"Tomorrow, we increase the training weights," Brother Thomas had warned. "And add weapon forms to your afternoon sessions."
"I don't need weapons," Aetos yawned. "I have wind."
"Wind won't help when someone gets close with steel. Sleep now, little storm. Tomorrow you learn why even eagles need talons."
But Aetos was already asleep, and around his bed, the air stirred gently, keeping perfect temperature and humidity while its friend rested. Even unconscious, the bond remained.
The disciplines of power were hard, but Aetos was learning something crucial: true mastery meant knowing when to be the hurricane and when to be the breeze. Most importantly, it meant choosing to be neither until the moment demanded it.
His power was growing daily. Whether his wisdom could keep pace remained to be seen.