As of late, the Scathachians had been scarce, that much was truth. In fact, people of the good city of Rhydin and its surroundings had theorized as to where they had gone, or if they had really gone at all. Some had said that they had returned to their island home for the mid-winter celebrations, others said that they had been dispersed elsewhere where they were needed as most of the immediate danger to the city had seemed quiet, while others still insisted that they were off on some holy crusade to bulk up numbers. The theories as to where they had gone were as many and as varied as the citizens of Rhydin. And there were some who believed that the Scathachians, champions of the innocent, had gone nowhere, but were still where they had always been: in the shadows, watching, guarding and protecting those that cared little for them. Those faithful few who knew that the Daughters of Scathach would never abandon them were the ones who knew the truth: that Isuelt and her Sisters, while observing their holy festival of mid-winter, had done little more than lay low in their duties and their socializing. These priestesses of the goddess of war had had their temple decorated and visited by the grateful citizens during the multiple winter celebrations; and this reverence did not go unnoticed by the priestesses.
Isuelt, herself, kept to the shadows this time of year anyway. For winter was the anniversary of the death of her husband nearly two decades past now, though she still felt the soft stillness of that battle and inner battle she fought for many years afterward. Her dark eyes still watched over the citizens of Rhydin from the snow-covered rooftops and deep, icy alleyways. Her strong jaw still sat in sure determination as she did her best to make sure her fellow denizens enjoyed the blessings of the season, even if she herself took shelter in little more than a hot cup of tea and a warm fire at the end of a long, cold evening. Her Sisters knew her well, and chose to visit their families or stay in Rhydin and do as Isuelt had done: their job.
As it happened, Isuelt was doing just that: enjoying a cup of tea when the door announced a visitor. She knew that while only a very few of her Sisters were still absent, still spending time with their families in alternate lands, the rest of the Scathachians were back in Rhydin (even if they were not home at the moment). It fell to Isuelt to answer the beckon. After a few moments longer than she normally would have waited, she set down her tea and headed toward the foyer where she heaved open the heavy door and saw the Headmaster before her.
"Master Briarius, winter greetings to you." She bowed her dark head before continuing. "I would bid you welcome. What brings you to the Sanctuary?" As she stepped back, and further opened the front door, there was a mixing of bitter cold and fragrant warm airs swirling between the indoors and outdoors.
