Araminia was given no response to her pleas, aside from perhaps the Mist hungrily writhing harder within her body. Ralasizon simply returned to the book he was reading as his Mist did what it was told to. He did not care whether or not she stayed conscious. But he would pay attention to how long she would stay conscious. It was important to note for future sessions that would be inflicted on her. It took an hour, admittedly longer than he had predicted for the princess to last. Once emotions began to dim from Araminia, the Mist did indeed slow. as she fell into unconsciousness, it would stop completely. No need to inflict pain on someone who could not produce the proper emotion. The mist instead healed itself into Araminia's flesh, actually dulling pain slightly this time around as it sealed itself away. By the time it was done, the carving down Araminia's back was pristine, looking more like a tattoo made from red ink than a ritualistic carving. Her skin, albeit incredibly sore and painful to the touch, was just as smooth and beautiful as it was, save for a bit of swelling around the edges. It would feel.... normal. But it was far from it. The Mist was embedded into her flesh, set there to observe and grow, feeding on the passive fear she would produce. That was the reason for the coloring of the carving turned tattoo. The Mist was present and turning the skin pigments into more mist.<br/><br/>Once Araminia was unconscious, he allowed the mist to release her legs, but not her arms. She would half hang, half drape there in the center of his study for another hour. He would not touch her, he would not even look at her. She was not on display for his or the mist's need. At least.... not quite yet. She was there for the class he was teaching. It was a group of second tiers. They've been here long enough to have a basic grasp on magic and some sort of understanding on the Red Mist, but their capabilities were low. But they had shown promise to raise from the tier 0 to their current position in a year, instead of the predicted route of going from tier 0 to the first tier in said year. So far, none were master material, but they were worth putting a bit of effort in to. Another upside was that most of them were Araminia's age. Another benefit of electing to teach their class on the same day that Araminia to arrive.<br/><br/>And right on time, there was a knock on the door. He has told the class that they were to meet him in his study five or so minutes before their class started, as they were not going to be learning in their class today. The knock was loud, and came at exactly five minutes prior to their class, which was occurring two hours after midday. Ralasizon rose his voice, speaking to them but hoping both the knock and his voice -especially if it was amplified by the Mist within her- would rouse the sleeping princess.<span class="fixed-color" style="color:#ff0000"> "Come in,"</span>Ralasizon said, standing from his desk. The doors opened fully, and a class of thirty wandered in. Their gasps was enough to know what their eyes first fell on, just as he had planned. Ralasizion walked up to Araminia and gently but sharply slapped her face a couple of times with his hand. "<span class="fixed-color" style="color:#ff0000">Ah yes, please welcome Lady Araminia Violetta Lytton, class,"</span>Ralasizon said, before moving around Araminia, but not in the way of her, keeping her back fully exposed.<span class="fixed-color" style="color:#ff0000">"The first lesson of this class: Red Mist grows by the passing of time, as you have been told. However, if in the presence of certain emotions, it seems to feed on them, growing exponentially."</span><br/><br/>Ralasizon gestured, and a wardrobe appeared on the right side of the room.<span class="fixed-color" style="color:#ff0000">"Those emotions -which I will allow you to speculate on until the end of class- are easily harvested through judicious use of... certain methods. It is why those of the unranked tier are not removed from the island if they fail to rise within the year," </span>A curtain of Red Mist cascaded from the air, hiding the wardrobe from sight of the group.<span class="fixed-color" style="color:#ff0000"> "So forgive the princess for her current appearance. She was... fulfilling the role of an unranked tier,"</span>Ralasizon's mouth curled into a sly, malicious smile.<span class="fixed-color" style="color:#ff0000">"Perhaps some of the ladies in the class could assist Ms Araminia in cleaning up? She will be joining us for class." </span>The wardrobe was one he had pulled from his own room. One that he had filled with clothes specifically for Araminia once she had arrived.