The windows shuddered slightly. It was something that this trip would have seen somewhat frequently. Her travelling companion was not a normal man. He had no voice, but his speech was quite literally booming. The shuddering of the windows were a side effect of it despite his attempts to what would essentially equate to whisper. The reverberation was not suited to cramped spaces such as the carriage. He had stirred at the sound of her gasp.<i><span class="fixed-color" style="color:#ff8000">"Grandmaster Ralasizon has released enough of the Red Mist into these waters, even the most novice at shaping the mist can forge this bridge,"</span></i>the man 'said' as he sat up, his voice coming from everywhere at once within the cabin. It was not loud, which would indicate that he was attempting to whisper, but the concentration of the mist seeping in around the cracks of the door was enough to cause glass to shudder and the core of a being to rumble at the bass.<br/><br/>Aronmar Ironwell sat across from her, lounging as comfortably as he could without actually laying down. He had made it known that he did not wish to be disrespectful to the young lady, and it showed as even while he propped himself sideways against one of the walls of the carriage, his feet were never put on either of the bench seats of the carriage. His skin was tanned, but not by the sun. It was certainly a glow earned from standing in front of a great forge. He had the look of a smith, the ends of his well kept beard showing signs of being singed. His hair, albeit a bit long, was well combed and pushed back into a small ponytail. The suit he wore was old and obviously recently cared for, but it was in the style of Renegradi court attire. In fact, taking his features and placing them in Renegrad would not be that far off the mark. Perhaps if the tan of the forge was gone, it would be even more likely. All and all, the only thing that betrayed the fact he was not some noble Renegradi smith was the booming voice that came from around him.<i><span class="fixed-color" style="color:#ff8000">"We shall be arriving at the island by daybreak. Please, do not be afraid to rest your eyes further if you feel you need it,"</span></i>Aronmar said, the voice he speaks from drooping with a tinge of sadness as he suggested more sleep.<br/><br/>And true enough, they pair of them felt the jolt of the carriage switching from smooth Red Mist to immaculate -albeit partially broken at the edge- cobblestone, exactly when Aronmar had predicted. The windows were immediately flanked by lush woods, various stones, and even the occasional hill as the carriage progressed further into the island. Roughly five minutes later, the carriage entered a narrow gap. It was large enough to fit two carriages side by side, but instead of trees and the like, the rough stone walls of a mountain obscured their view from either window. It was almost as if it was night in between these two natural pillars of stone. But, just as suddenly as it had appeared, so too did it disappeared a couple of moments later. Immediately, it would feel as if they were somewhere else entirely.<br/><br/>Chiseled into this side of the mountain they had just passed through, were four tiers of building. These steppes were held up and kept smooth by more immaculate cobblestone. Homes were built out on these steppes. Some where basically bunkhouses. Others were closer to cottages. Others still looked as if they were townhouses ripped from the architecture of one kingdom or another and gently placed upon these steppes. The Cobblestone road, barely causing any bumps for the carriage it was so well made, pressed onward, revealing that the steppes wrapped around, going from the left side of the entrance all the way around this circular valley until it finally met the right side. As the carriage turned slowly, following the road, Araminia would be introduced to the grand structure that dominated the center of this valley. As the carriage adjusted to give a better view of it, Aronmar's attempt whisper of a rumble returned as he adjusted his coat, readying for them to reach their destination.<span class="fixed-color" style="color:#ff8000"><i>"Welcome... to The Red Mist Enclave." </i></span>Aronmar said.<span class="fixed-color" style="color:#ff8000"><i>"A place made safe and comfortable for those who wish to learn."</i></span><br/><br/>The Enclave Arcanium was immense. The stories of it being carved out of a mountain itself seemed to have credence, as from a distance, it looked to be a single, uniform piece of stone. It was akin to a sprawling castle more than anything else, save it had no walls hedging it in. Around it, in all directions, was a massive courtyard. Elegant fountains and beautiful flowers bloomed around cobblestone paths, some suited for horses, wagons, and carriages while others were more suited to foot traffic. There was the occasional tree, but largely, they stayed near the large, lush patches of grass. In each cardinal direction from the Arcanium was a large patch of this grass. It was well treated, and people in all kinds of clothes -both uniform and without uniform- seemed to be using the ones that the carriage passed either for relaxation and entertainment, or practice and study.<br/><br/>But her ride through this magnificent quasi-settlement came to an end, as the carriage slowed to a stop, and one window had a shadow cast upon it from the building. This close, the stories were actually false. Dark, petrified trees without their limbs stood at each corner of the building as supports. The roof was lightly interlocking dark red sandstone. The building itself was made of some dark, pure stone that was bricked together to forge it. On closer inspection, it was almost as if whoever had made this place made a castle in the appearance of a mansion. A cobblestone path -one which changed to that odd, pure and dark stone the closer it got- led to stairs, which ascended up to a massive entrance. From windows at least four stories up, grand banners displaying the mark of the Enclave on black backgrounds flowed down until they were about ten feet off of the ground itself.<br/><br/>Aronmar exited the carriage the moment that the door opened with no visible force, inside or out, acted upon it. Once his feet were properly on the ground, he turned and offered his calloused hand up to his travelling companion, helping her out of the carriage and to their final destination. The air was cool, and probably stayed that way all year round. Once Araminia had exited into this bright, comfortable morning, Aronmar gave her a slight smile, albeit one that was a bit weak despite his best attempts. The sound of the carriage was not heard leaving, but if she were to turn around, it would be gone completely. Aronmar's voice was much more manageable in the open air, the rumbling of bones were muted at worst, gone completely at best.<i><span class="fixed-color" style="color:#ff8000"> "This way, Lady Araminia," </span></i>Aronmar said politely, beginning to walk forward. Even if he was being polite, the Red Mist Forgemaster was not going to let her out of his sight. His pace was kept to match her own, and he kept next to him, enough to where they could catch each other out of the corner of their eyes.<br/><br/>This would be where she would first come into contact with the whispers. So quiet, and so out of place within this beautiful valley. Words could not be picked out, but it sounded as if a crowd was around her, whispering among themselves about her. However, aside from the occasional student leaving or entering the building, the only person even remotely nearby was Aronmar, and none of them were speaking. From his place within his study, Ralasizon suddenly was given mixed feelings. On one hand, he was happy that his apprentice had returned in good health and with what he had demanded. On the other, the memories of the apprentices who were not so lucky rose to the surface. He wondered if she remembered the small orb -battered and sealed and tossed into the corner of Salexia's cell, the one that shook as her father carried her away. For that was the beginning of Ralasizon's revenge, formed from Augustus' concern for Araminia and complete dismissal of his first student's life as being a human being.