Eleanor followed Arrichion into the castle. There were no guards to stop their way; no sentries to glance at them. The silence was uncanny, the emptiness oppressive. They eventually reached a vast hall that could only be a throne room… at its far end, a massive stone chair loomed, less a seat of comfort than a seat of judgement. Eleanor moved as if in a dream, her body obeying Arrichion's lead while her mind reeled. She sank into one of the lesser stone chairs lining the hall, her senses still reeling from the enormity of where she was.
She had joined the School of Mixed Martial Arts with nothing more than a quiet hope of learning a few secrets from the legendary Supreme Grandmaster Scáthach. Never, not even in the wildest flight of her imagination, had she thought she would one day set foot in Dún Scáith itself.
