Put the fists down; the line holds.
There are rare moments when the long fight can be set aside entirely — when you can lay every defence down and trust something else to hold the front.
A red gone almost to black, sealed at the rim, banked to its lowest steady burn. It has the weight of cold iron in the hand and the still, dry scent of metal after the heat has gone out of it.
Years of standing guard make laying the defence down feel like surrender. The sigil fights nothing and surrenders nothing — it holds the strongest, steadiest line, so just this once you can put every fist down and let the front be held without you.
Keep it for the rare day you can finally stop fighting.
Sit until the readiness drains out of your hands, lay each defence down in turn, and let the line stand without you for once.
Sealed in the archive. Only the sigil that comes to you today opens in AR.
Today's draw →