Aronmar led Araminia through the halls of the Enclave's Arcanium, opting not to take her up the magnificent staircase that dominated the foyer. He explained that it is faster to simply move to the correct wing, then climb than it is to climb here and find the proper connecting hallways. If he was not still assigned to bring her to his master, one could swear he was giving her a tour. Some doors were open, leading to peaceful labs, with one person standing in front of a class lecturing or giving help to those who needed it as they worked on runes or existing projects. Aronmar took the time to explain that they take care to ensure lower tiers can acclimate to their specialties, as well as know full well the dangers they may cause to themselves or others if they are not careful and responsible with said specialties. Other open doors gave them a view of something that looked absolutely mundane, as another mage stood in front of desks, reciting history or proper calculations and incantations. Aronmar explained again that the Red Mist Enclave worked to ensure that their apprentices would not fumble with their spells, as changing one word, or altering the angle of a rune could drastically alter the spell. Others still were shut, but Aronmar did not mind to -as quietly as he could- explain what door led to what classroom or library.<br/><br/>Eventually, Aronmar began to silence himself, explaining on the fourth floor that these were either study rooms or private suites for higher tier members of the Enclave, and that would continue as they continued to walk. It seems they would not leave this floor. It was truly a maze within the darkened stone, but Aronmar had led her to the Northern Wing. This wing was slightly different. There were still rooms dotting the hall, but they were spread further apart. Aronmar spoke his final words to Araminia here.<span class="fixed-color" style="color:#ff8000"><i>"We are in the Northern Wing now. It is reserved for studies and suites for the Circle of Masters..." </i></span>Aronmar said, a hefty amount of sorrow reverberating around them.<span class="fixed-color" style="color:#ff8000"><i>"It has gotten quite quiet as of late...."</i></span><br/><br/>With that, Aronmar completely silenced himself, walking down the long hall to it's center, before turning to a smaller but no less grand hall. No doors were on this smaller hall, save for a pair of grand mahogany doors at the end. And the Mist was present. It was not all consuming, nor was it heavy. Some simply floated about in the air, with what seemed to be no real purpose. The moment Aronmar stepped into the hallway, he straightened up a bit more -if it was even possible- and walked forward. The Mist moved to him, gently wrapping around him before flitting back into place. It seemed almost as if these mists were alive and happy to see an old friend again. On the other hand, the Mist avoided Araminia completely, parting in front of her and skirting around her steps. The whispers had started up again, completely indecipherable to the young lady, but ever present with their hushed tones. Finally, the pair reached the door at the end, and Aronmar knocked upon it.<br/><br/>Ralasizon was still in his study quietly sitting at his grand and imposing desk, pouring over a book that did not look too dissimilar to that of a store's sales book. The study itself was the envy of many in and out of the Enclave. It was circular in design, covering a large floor plan of at least forty yards from the door to the furthest point of the wall. And the walls were lined with books. There was no bare wall to be seen. From the floor to the ceiling, bookshelves inhabited the wall, going up for what was at least three stories. Off to either side about a third of the way into the room, were comfortable chairs and couches, circled around fireplaces that were embedded into the floor. The fire seemed to have no source, and gave off no smoke, but their warmth could be felt if you were to stand next to them. On the opposite side of the room from the fire place, about three fourths of the way between the door and the back point of the wall, stood Ralasizon's desk. And finally, one thing that was partially hidden from view until you stood in the center of the room, was a doorway off to the right. To call it a doorway was a bit too nice. To put simply, it was a cell door. A heavily chained one at that. From the light that poured into the room from the fire and a trio of windows near the ceiling, one could just barely see even more shelves of books past the door.<br/><br/>The knock at the door did not earn his gaze, but it was given words.<span class="fixed-color" style="color:#ff0000">"Enter." </span>He said curtly as he found a place to stop. As Aronmar opened the hefty doors and stepped in, Ralasizon rose from his seat. The Red Mist in the room shrunk down to nonexistant as he rounded his desk at a slow and regal pace. Aronmar bowed deeply to his master and his booming voice filled the room.<span class="fixed-color" style="color:#ff8000"><i>"Aronmar Ironwell, The Red Mist Forgemaster and third master of the Circle of Masters, presenting Lady Araminia Violetta Lytton. As requested,"</i></span>Aronmar said before he brought himself upright once more.<br/><br/>Ralasizon's gaze was cold at first, as he approached where Aronmar stopped in the center of the room. But, as he reached only a couple of steps away, the coldness shattered like ice tossed into a fire. Ralasizon smiled softly and extended a hand to Aronmar, who took it. The pair of them pulled on each other's hands and brought each other in for a hug that lasted longer than master and student, bordering on old friends or even family.<span class="fixed-color" style="color:#ff0000">"Welcome home, Aron,"</span>Ralasizon said, his voice full of power though kept muted and somewhat regal. As the two separated, Ralasizon turned to Araminia. The coldness returned, but at no where near the same degree. "<span class="fixed-color" style="color:#ff0000">Lady Araminia, I welcome you to the Red Mist Enclave,"</span>Ralasizon said formally, with no hint of emotion one way or another.