A whole month of inputs can leave the mind a crowded switchboard, every line lit, none of them yours to rest on.
Blue-green light with a quicksilver edge, faintly iridescent. It has the cool of smooth glass, the scent of cut grass and ozone, the taste of lemon.
A lit-up mind looks like a sharp one; often it's just overrun. The sigil doesn't clear the board — it opens one clean channel where a single line can run uninterrupted, and the rest can wait their turn.
Light
Keep it where the month's overload is heaviest.
Witcher
Choose one line, settle on the center, breathe long and slow, and let that single thought run clean to its end.
Sealed in the archive. Only the sigil that comes to you today opens in AR.
Today's draw →