As though she'd been physically struck, Araminia recoiled at his words and the harshness, the contempt there. As he turned away so too did she, trying to hide the hurt there.<span class="fixed-color" style="color:#4da6ff">“I meant no offense…” </span>she said softly, though she didn't expect a response, much less a reaction. Pressing her lips together she steeled herself for whatever she thought might be coming. Her trip here with Aronmar, he'd been so kind to her. So much so that despite her fears she had allowed herself to relax, to think that maybe everything was going to be okay. After all anything her father could imagine happening would be worse than what actually was, right? But it seemed like he had no such thoughts. The disparity between the way he spoke with her and Aronmar was not lost on her. She was nothing to him, little better than an object. As if he'd asked for her father's favorite vase to smash. Unconcerned that she was a human with emotions and feelings and decisions of her own.<br/><br/>Araminia’s eyes filled with fear as her escort turned to her to say goodbye, looking almost excited to be returning to his forge. But he was leaving her here, with the grandmaster who so obviously despised her simply for having her father's blood in her veins.<span class="fixed-color" style="color:#4da6ff"> “I hope you find your forge well, Master Ironwell” </span>she replied, though she couldn't keep her voice from trembling as she spoke, her eyes following him desperately as he took his leave, as though she knew his presence was somehow protecting her. She did not want to be left alone with the grandmaster.<br/><br/>Flinching as the door closed with a resounding echo, sealing her fate, the girl reluctantly turned back to Ralasizon, getting about what she’d expected from the look on his face. She dropped her gaze, looking away from him until he finally turned from her, speaking. The trembling returned to her slender frame as he chastised her, and harshly explained that while magic, and probably implying that his students as well were not evil simply for practicing such arts, he was no stranger to such things. She wanted to know what he was doing on his desk, afraid that whatever it was meant unpleasantness for her. But she wasn’t the sort to go quietly to whatever fate had for her. Skilled in the art of speech, it was the one weapon she had in her pathetic arsenal, and her only chance at making this man see reason, though she very much doubted he would listen, as he spoke of her father’s enemies.<br/><br/><span class="fixed-color" style="color:#4da6ff">“With respect Grandmaster Ralasizon, I was not even born when this conflict began, and still a mere child when your involvement became necessary. I am not responsible for the decisions of my father. I have never even had any say over my own life, let alone the ability to make a man such as him change his mind from a path he set down before I was even a thought.”</span>her words were clear, her tone respectful, despite the shaking, and her obvious fear of him. It was at that moment that she felt the brush of something across her thigh, nearly stumbling backwards as her legs were quickly rooted into place, the only thing keeping her upright was the obvious tendrils of red mist that wrenched her arms free of her waist, nearly dragging her into the air as they stretched her out to her limits, despite her frantic struggling.<br/><br/><span class="fixed-color" style="color:#4da6ff">“Please! I’ve done nothing to you… why are you doing this…”</span>her gaze dropped to the knife as her breath caught in her throat, lips parted as she struggled to breathe, eyes only returning when he mentioned that the mist needed to feed. All of her previous thoughts came crashing back down, her currosity at where the mist had come from, and why it was red.<span class="fixed-color" style="color:#4da6ff"> “No....” </span>she pleaded, unable to even struggle against the steel-like restraints as the mist swirled about her, taunting her.<span class="fixed-color" style="color:#4da6ff"> “You promised them you wouldn’t hurt me…”</span>her voice came out in a mere whisper, the most she could manage.