The girl winced as once more the reverberations from his ‘speech’ shook the glass and made her teeth hurt. She knew he was trying, and couldn't imagine how had his life would have been before the magics gave him the ability to speak in some fashion. In his case she could almost understand the willingness to damn his soul. If the Magics could Grant some measure of relief to the physically disabled than that way, wouldn't they willing to do anything to possess it? But his,explanation of how the bridge was created both fascinated and terrified her. Was this the only way on or off the island? And just how big was this Lake that it would take them until morning to reach the other side. She nodded in thanks for his explanation, feeling bad for not wanting to carry on a conversation because of his voice. Now that she was no longer completely terrified of him, she actually had a great number of questions she wished she could ask. But whatever the morning would bring, she would need what little rest she could get.<br/><br/>Araminia’s sleep was fitful and often interrupted, usually by dreams of varying degrees of horror. Where her limited knowledge of what the red mist welding mages were capable of ended, her imagination was more than willing to fill in the blanks, conjuring all kinds of terrible tortures and reasons why the mist was red. Her only comfort, little though it was, found in the promise the other Leaders in the alliance had demanded of the Archmage. She was to be kept fed, clothed, and alive. Even if each of those was left open to a great measure of interpretation. Her father could have easily forbidden such practices within his own borders, but it was his ambition and desire to enforce such thoughts the world over, the bulk of his energy focused on the evil that The Enclave have brought into the world, that had brought them to their knees, and her to this house of horror.<br/><br/>By the time the first light of morning started to reflect across the water's  glassy surface, the dark haired woman decided she wasn't going to get any more sleep. Her companion was harder to read, as several times she’d thought him sleeping when he turned out to only be resting his eyes. Though she was quickly distracted by the sights outside her window. She'd seen forests before, of many different varieties, but there was something unique about this one, Lush and thriving despite what had to be very rocky soil. Quickly drawn from the trees, her attention fell on the various large Stones scattered throughout the woods, some of which carved with intricate symbols that she could swear were glowing with an unearthly red light. So enamored was she by the forest, that she let out a startled squeak as they were suddenly plunged into darkness.<br/><br/>When it lifted, they were in a village, or so it seemed, as though the members of the enclaves constructed their homes and styles they were most familiar with, or in some cases something made up their own either through a combination of several different styles or something wholly arcane that looked as though it could only be supported by Magic. She couldn't peel her eyes from the windows, still wide eyed and fearful but also curious and fascinated. She stepped from the carriage, taking his offered hands with her eyes on the building instead, soft lips parted slightly in awe. And his voice was so much more manageable out here, though not completely pleasant, it was no longer painful.<br/><br/><span class="fixed-color" style="color:#4da6ff">“thank you.”</span>she replied courteously, eager to finally be free of the trapped confines of the carriage and stretch her legs. When she turned around however, The Carriage was gone and along with it the book that she had been reading. Traces of sadness filled her eyes, although it should not have surprised her. After all, she'd been forced to leave all of her belongings behind, not even permitted to pack a satchel of some of her more sentimental possessions. Instead, she was informed that she would be provided with all she needed upon her arrival. Silently, the girl followed him into the hall, distracting herself from the terror of her unknown fate with the beauty of the architecture.<br/><br/>Though they could not distract her from the whispering as they ascended the first set of stairs. She glanced around discreetly, hoping to find the source, but the fact that there was no one only unsettled her further. By the time they reached the second flight, Princess Araminia Violetta Lytton, Jewel of Whitemarsh, was trembling with fear.