[As Eridanus listens to Regulus' story of arrival, his own thoughts drift back towards his own. How empty he had felt waking up without his magic, how determined he was to simply survive, without a thought for how he felt about it. He had been like an animal then, and perhaps he never returned from that.

His gaze lifts, and Regulus' mention of magic earns a soft, understanding laugh from him.]

Tell me about it. I've never thought about cleaning something before, until I lost my magic. Others do not understand our particular plight. To spend your whole life relying on, and being defined by something, only to suddenly have it stolen from you.

[Eridanus' somber countenance falters into a sad frown, his broad shoulders slumping slightly as he brings the bitter coffee to his lips to wash the taste of far more bitter reality from his tongue.]

I hadn't died prior to my arrival here, and for that, I find myself caught in the middle. The wish to go back, to see my daughter and to have my magic... but I know that I am no longer the man I was there, and I do not know if I could ever return to him. [His gaze lifts, to meet Regulus' ethereal eyes,] it's pathetic, isn't it? This would be far easier if I had died. At least then, I could have been like a phoenix, like you.