For the days you've moved through with your guard up, ready for a fight that never quite came.
Dark crimson edged hard in black. It has the heat just off a flame and the dry scent of struck flint.
A raised guard feels like readiness; held too long it just wears the arm out. The sigil fights nothing for you — it holds a firm edge so you can put your fists down and let the line stand instead.
Light
Keep it where the day's guarding tightens your hands.
Witcher
Set your eyes on the center, breathe down hard once, and let your hands unclench.
Sealed in the archive. Only the sigil that comes to you today opens in AR.
Today's draw →