Eridanus nodded in realization as the Headmaster cleared his doubts. He always had the idea that personal magic tended to only be useful for selfish ends. It was more like a general stereotype, probably emphasized by the many young cocky reimancy undergraduates he knew from Zeltiva University. They were pretty quick to point out the superiority of reimancy over all the other forms of magic.
It was quite refreshing to see hypnotism from the Headmaster's point of view, and honestly it was rather empowering to realize that it had such a powerful tool for healing. The pride from the Headmaster's smile reassured Eri that he was making quite an excellent choice at choosing to invest himself into the Headmaster and his group, and he followed the older ethaefal down the hall into a neat small room.
The Headmaster's request was honestly pretty strange. Like all personal magics, Eri suspected that hypnotism probably had some sort of initiation procedure, and he was actually wondering if it was the easy but painful kind where he just had to be passive and endure like Reimancy, or if it were the self-realization kind like Voiding. He hoped that his natural affinity with Hypnotism was much better than that of Voiding for it took him many many weeks and months for the latter case.
Eridanus was not sure what the Headmaster hoped to achieve by having him make expressions in front of a mirror, but he did not question the older leth-born and decided to trust in his wisdom.
Sitting himself on the chair, he looked at the mirror, staring at a reflection of himself. Messy hair streaked with the colors of Morwen's Lights. Wild, carefree eyes that shifted colors in a seemingly random manner and at seemingly random intervals of time. A young expression that spoke of nonchalance and a devil-may-care attitude. The face of an impulsive and curious vantha.
It was his mortal body, his mortal face. The mortal shell that somehow gained Leth's fancy that caused him to be accepted into Ukalas. Then the Valterrian that tore him away from his divine abode, casting him once again amongst mortal men. As if he had been judged by Lhex and sent to continue the cycle of rebirth.
As he thought, his expression changed from one of curiosity, to one of happiness as he thought about his times with Leth. Though jumbled and fragmented, the very idea of that memory gave him strength and happiness. As he thought about his downfall his expression turned sombre, and as he wondered about his plight he began to turn sad. It was an honest collection of expressions, one that did not require acting, for it was an expression of his thoughts and emotions.
He thought about the mischief he got up to when he was younger and grew regretful, for he did not feel sorry at all for how he was like. The vantha's face then gave a apologetic look as he realized that he did sorry for the innocent victims he wronged, for the many crimes he committed due to a burning, misdirected passion corrupted by older mechanisms.
There was a hint of a vengeful smirk as he recalled how he quite properly disabled the Organization that was keeping him psychologically enslaved, that continued to corrupt him, until Priskil caused him to see the truth that he had always blinded himself from. Smiling appreciatively, he acknowledged the help the goddess of hope (or what he believed to be Priskil) gave him, and the remark of finding her when he found his true calling in life before leaving.
The smile turned into a slightly forlorn one as he wondered if he could really meet her. How would he find a Goddess? Even so, he had not even realized his true calling in life. He had the wish to return to Ukalas and to Leth, but that was the goal of all ethaefal. His destiny pointed to something else, he was sure of it, just that he had no idea what it was yet.
What was his true calling then? He had no real morals, no guidelines to follow. He had tried to become a good person, seeking Wysar for His discipline and Yahal for His ideals on faith and purity. A pensive mood lingered around the ethaefal was he considered his fate. Was it truly controlled by him? Or was he merely a cog in the complex machinations ruled by the gods?
A thoughtful expression filled the mirror as he wondered what he was doing with his life. He had to redeem himself, and learning hypnotism to save others seemed a fitting way to do so. It was a form of constructing, of building, of healing that left a warm feeling in his centuries-old heart compared to the cold, disgustingly ruthless feel of killing, of slaying, of destruction.
Eridanus had no idea how much time had passed as he reflected on his entire existence, expression after expression changing as he recalled his emotions and reflections on his actions even while staring at the mirror, noticing his expressions.
He did not even have to try to force himself to make the various contorted faces for this reflection in front of a mirror was strangely therapeutic, and his subconsciously cleared mind allowed him a moment of calmness that caused him to reflect on his past deeds.