Episode 2: The Citadel of Banners
The wind that swept through the mountain pass howled like an ancient beast awakening from slumber. Cloaked in her mother's patched travel cloak, Elira stood before the towering gates of the Citadel of Banners, the stronghold where Virelia's most gifted were forged into guardians of the realm. Her heart pounded, not from fear, but from the weight of the unknown carved into her skin.
The sigil burned faintly beneath her glove — not with pain, but a quiet pulse, as if the mark itself was aware of where they now stood.
The gates creaked open with deliberate grandeur. Banners of blue, gold, silver, and crimson flapped in the wind above the battlements, each one bearing the symbols of the Four Great Sigils: the sword of the Knight, the eye of the Seer, the bloom of the Healer, and the quill of the Scholar. But none bore the serpent — the mark she carried.
A steward, wrapped in silver-trimmed robes, stepped forward. "State your name and sigil."
Elira swallowed. "Elira. Of Durnfall."
"Sigil?"
She hesitated, hand twitching at her side.
"Scholar," said a firm voice beside her. Nysa emerged from the crowd of new initiates. Her sharp, dark eyes met Elira's. "She's with me."
The steward frowned but scribbled something onto his parchment. "You'll report to Master Varin at Dawncall Hall. Do not wander."
Elira exhaled. Nysa offered a curt nod and motioned for her to follow.
---
Inside the citadel, magic lived in every stone. Glyph-laced walls whispered as they passed, humming softly beneath torchlight. Floating staircases led to towers suspended in midair, and trees with silver leaves lined quiet courtyards. Students in sigil-colored cloaks practiced incantations or sparred under hovering glyphs.
Nysa led her through a hall of moving mirrors that reflected not their faces but their thoughts — Elira caught a flicker of her father's forge, then a burning field she didn't recognize.
"You shouldn't have come," Nysa said flatly.
"I had no choice."
"That mark of yours—if anyone sees it—"
"They won't."
The taller girl narrowed her eyes. "You think the Fifth Sigil stays hidden? It seeps through. The Citadel was built to unearth such things."
They stopped before a heavy wooden door. "Master Varin," Nysa said, knocking once.
The door swung open without touch.
Inside, books floated midair. Candles wrote notes into parchment by themselves. At the desk stood a thin man in gold-rimmed glasses, robes layered in Scholar blue.
"You brought her, then," he said, gaze landing on Elira.
"You knew?" Nysa asked, surprised.
"Not everything. But enough."
He turned to Elira. "Take off your glove."
Elira's fingers curled into a fist. "Why?"
"Because I felt your presence the moment you stepped through the gates. The Citadel speaks to me, and you, child, are a scream in its silence."
Nysa stepped between them. "She isn't a threat."
"Every bearer of a Fifth Sigil has been."
Silence fell.
Elira slowly pulled off the glove.
The serpent shimmered faintly on her palm.
Varin did not recoil — instead, he leaned forward.
"It's awake," he murmured. "I haven't seen this mark since the Year of the Red Moons."
"You know what it means?" Elira asked.
"I know what it might mean. Power. Prophecy. Or doom. But we are not in the habit of slaughtering children based on ink."
He waved a hand, and a book thudded down beside her.
"Welcome to the Citadel of Banners. If you survive your first month, we'll talk again."
---
Elira's chamber was high in a quiet spire. It smelled of old ink and mountain air. As she unpacked her satchel, a rustle at the window caught her attention.
A figure perched there — all in black, face hidden.
"You're the girl with the forbidden mark," he said.
Elira froze. "Who are you?"
"Someone who should be your enemy. But I'm not."
He tossed a small, glass orb onto her bed.
"When it glows red, you'll be hunted. When it glows gold, you'll be safe. For now."
She picked it up, but by the time she looked back, the figure was gone.
The orb pulsed once — softly red.
Elira's journey at the Citadel had only just begun, and already shadows moved. The Fifth Sigil was no longer just her burden.
It was a beacon.
---
To Be Continued...