(Please read the other clan title announcement below, then come back to this one!)

Something was wrong.

Atyiru felt it the moment the doors to her office hissed open. The air, already too quiet in the absence of her once-loyal Proconsul, suddenly seemed to weigh on her, thick and oppressive. She felt her breath becoming shallow as he stepped into the room, the rhythmic cadence of his footfalls entirely oblivious of the sudden tension.

The next moment, Timeros Arconae, her brother and newly-appointed Rollmaster, took a knee and bowed his head. “Your Excellency.”

“Please, brother,” the Consul said, as she tried to recover her customary levity. Where...did that come from. “Must we stand on formality like this? I’d much rather you stand.”

“As you wish,” the Adept intoned, rising as smoothly as he had fallen before standing stock-still and silent, eyes fixed upon the Augur. “You requested a meeting.”

The question remained but unspoken, but Atyiru was adept at reading her brother’s cues. “I did. It appears there’s been a security breach at Dusk Station.”

Silence. Not a flicker of the eyes nor a word of response. Just a cold, waiting stare that lingered at the back of her head, poking at her memories.

“Brother…” she said, finally, leaning over across her desk. “I have the security logs. Mejas Doto was released on your orders.”

There was a momentary flicker of awareness in the Arconae’s eyes. When he spoke, however, his voice was dead and monotonous.

“His talents were required.”

“His talents?” The blind Augur raised an eyebrow. “I was unaware that he had any save in the field of murder, and we have others who are...amply equipped for that. Could you give me the cause?”

“It shall be apparent soon.”

“Brother, that will not suffice. You - ”

Atyiru’s incipient remarks were broken up by sudden noise from her office’s antechamber.

“The Consul is currently indisposed! You cannot -”

A loud crash silenced the protests, and the doors behind the Adept slid open, revealing four instantly-recognizably men. Strategos. Wuntila. James. Rayze. They stepped into the room with the casual organization of veteran killers, spreading around Timeros in a half-circle, hands on their sabers. Through the opened door, she could see Bly lie on the floor, clearly unconscious.

The Consul froze. Five men. Five Arconae. Five Shadow Heart Arconae, all armed. At long last, she recognized that deadened, dissecting look in her brother’s eyes: It was a look she’d seen him give to enemies on the battlefield.

She heaved a sigh, moving back her chair and fixing each of them with a stare through her blindfold.

“Well, then. A coup?” She managed a wry smile. “I suppose the dungeons did just get a few new empty spots.”

“Oh, Atyiru,” Strategos said pleasantly as he took a tentative step around the desk. “There’s no need to make this harder than it has to be.”

“Well, I suppose that if - “ the Consul’s words were interrupted by a storm of motion as she sprang from her seat, throwing herself bodily out of her chair and towards the door. She felt herself stop even as she began to move, however, her moment roughly arrested by five pairs of invisible hands that left her hanging in midair.

“Ah, yes. I thought that might come up,” Strategos sighed. “Very well. I suppose further talk is-”

“Superfluous to requirement, yes,” the Augur managed to say. “Whatever you came to do. Do it.”

James glanced at Rayze, who nodded before producing a dark sackcloth motion at Atyiru.

“Oh, you’re kidding me. I’m already blindfolded! I’m bli-”

The next instant, Wuntila’s fist came crashing down at her, and everything went black.

|-o-|

She awoke to a series of sharp stabs in her stomach.

“...awake,” a voice spoke close to her ears, indistinct through the sack, accompanied by another piercing sensation.

“Atyiru Caesura Entar.” This time, she recognized the voice. Timeros.

“Every action has a reaction.” James.

“Your actions have been seen.” Strategos.

“And judged.” Legorii.

“The consequences are yours to bear.” Rayze.

“Atyiru,” spoke the voice near her head, and recognizing him as Mejas. “We name you Atyiru Caesura Entar, di Tenebrous Arconae.”

“Rise, Consul,” intoned the group, as the pricks at stomach continued, slowly marking out the Clan sigil.

|-o-|

Brethren,

Today marks the two year anniversary of Atyiru as Arcona Consul. Over the past four years of her membership, she has repeatedly shown her value to the Clan. She has been a great artist, an amazing writer and an all-around enthusiastic participant. She has grown, too, within those years, and Arcona has grown with her. Leadership can be a tumultuous affair, and having seen it up close we can say that she has handled every crisis thrown at her with grace and wisdom.

As such, the Arconae have unanimously decided that it is time to add to our ranks, and welcome Atyiru as the thirteenth di Tenebrous Arconae. Congratulations, Abbles. <3

On behalf of the Arconae,
James and Tim