Shattered Sanity

Once the Hypnotist became assured that Riven had slowly begun to accept himself as a noble, he started the next phase of his moulding, which was teaching Riven how exactly to behave like one.

Since Riven was not born in a wealthy household, and had not actually seen noble life up close, he was always bound to be an outcast if suddenly thrust into noble society, which was why the Hypnotist took it upon himself to train Riven in the ways of nobility.

”A ruler is judged long before he speaks,” the Hypnotist said, as he slowly walked circles around Riven. ”His posture, his expression, his confidence, and the manner in which he carries himself tell the world whether they stand before a true noble or merely a man wearing expensive clothes.”

He explained, as he corrected his own posture and showed Riven how to carry oneself as though projecting subtle power.

”I see...”

Riven murmured, as although he remained chained to his bed throughout every lesson, the Hypnotist never once considered that to be a disadvantage.

”You are blessed with a mind that can grasp almost anything instantly,” he continued, ”therefore, for the duration where your legs do not work, your eyes shall become your legs instead.”

He said, as he deepened his voice, and straightened his chin.

”From today onwards, keep a close eye on how I carry myself, and how I interact with my underlings and peers.

It will be a long road, but eventually you will grasp the essence of being a noble, because I will portray the perfect image of one before you.”

He said, as from that day onward, every interaction taking place inside the laboratory became another lesson for Riven, as the boy silently observed every greeting, every conversation, every correction, and every subtle movement made by the Hypnotist, as he committed each one to memory with the same frightening precision that had allowed him to remember every tragedy he had ever endured.

As the lessons came at the most random of times, but they were things that deeply affected his personality.

The first of such lessons came later that very evening.

As Karen entered the laboratory carrying a fresh tray of medicines, however, in her haste, she pushed the door open and stepped inside without knocking.

And so, the Hypnotist did not acknowledge her.

Instead, he calmly continued discussing Blood Refinement with the Imperial Anatomist as though she did not exist.

Karen stood there awkwardly for several moments before finally lowering her head.

”...My apologies.”

She quietly stepped back outside, gently closed the door, knocked three times, and waited patiently.

”Enter,” the Imperial Anatomist replied.

As only then did both of them turn to face her.

After Karen had replaced Riven’s medicines and quietly left once again, the Hypnotist looked towards the boy.

”A gentleman corrects mistakes without humiliating the person making them,” he explained. ”Had we rebuked her immediately, she would have remembered only the embarrassment. Instead, she remembered the lesson.”

He explained, as Riven nodded and silently committed every word to memory.

A few days later, another opportunity presented itself.

One of the assistants accidentally dropped a crystal vial while preparing Riven’s medicine, causing it to shatter across the laboratory floor.

The young man immediately froze.

”I... I apologize, sir.”

The Hypnotist calmly looked towards the broken glass.

”Clean it.”

”Y... Yes, sir.”

”And ensure it never happens again.”

He said, as despite the broken crystal being a substantial monetary loss, he did not admonish the boy any more than necessary.

There was no raised voice, no insults, no threats, which was quite different from how Hagrid would have handled the situation, because Riven knew for sure that if this was back in the brothel, the young man would be whipped 15 times by now.

”Anger is often mistaken for authority,”

The Hypnotist said after the assistant was gone.

”But only true nobles understand that the two have almost nothing in common.”

He advised, as Riven nodded and took the lesson to heart.

On another occasion, the Imperial Anatomist entered the laboratory carrying several documents beneath one arm.

”Good morning.”

He said, as the Hypnotist inclined his head ever so slightly.

”Good morning.”

The exchange lasted no more than two words.

Once the Imperial Anatomist had disappeared into another room, the Hypnotist spoke again.

”Did you notice what I did not do?”

Riven remained silent.

”I neither bowed too deeply nor greeted him casually. Respect should never become submission, just as confidence should never become arrogance. A noble understands exactly where that balance lies.”

Riven carefully etched those words into his memory.

Another lesson arrived during the evening meal.

One of the younger assistants eagerly approached the Hypnotist after successfully completing a task that the Hypnotist had assigned to him.

”I completed everything ahead of schedule.”

The Hypnotist nodded once.

”Excellent.”

The assistant smiled proudly.

”I shall continue working this hard every day.”

He said, however, ”No,” the Hypnotist replied calmly.

The young man blinked in confusion.

”I expect this standard every day.”

The smile immediately disappeared from the assistant’s face.

After he quietly excused himself, the Hypnotist glanced towards Riven.

”Reward excellence,” he explained, ”but never praise a man for merely fulfilling the responsibilities already entrusted to him.”

He taught, as little by little Riven understood more about how exactly it was that nobles carried themselves.

However, their behaviour towards their subordinates and peers was not all there was to being a noble, so eventually, the lessons shifted towards other topics, such as the art of insults.

”A common man insults another because he has surrendered control over his emotions,” the Hypnotist explained.

He looked towards an assistant arranging surgical instruments nearby.

”If I wished to behave like a tavern drunkard, I would say...”

”You incompetent fool.”

The assistant lowered his head.

”However,” the Hypnotist continued, ”a noble has no need for such language.”

He calmly folded his hands behind his back.

”I expected greater competence from someone entrusted with responsibilities this simple.”

He said, as the assistant’s face flushed with embarrassment before he silently returned to correcting every instrument lying upon the table.

”The first insult satisfies your anger,” the Hypnotist explained. ”The second wounds another man’s pride. Learn the difference, because only one of them belongs to a gentleman.”

Month after month, those lessons continued in the same manner.

While the Imperial Anatomist transformed Riven’s body through Blood Refinement, the Hypnotist reshaped his mind by turning the entire laboratory into his classroom.

Every gesture became a lesson.

Every conversation became an example.

Every mistake committed by another became another page in the education of the future noble lying silently chained upon the bed, committing every word, every movement, and every subtle expression to memory with frightening precision.

As what began as Riven merely wanting to be a noble, had now evolved into him already learning how to be one.