“Flags do not lie. They might burn, rise, fall, or billow in the wind, but never lie. You see what they are, you know what’s coming.”
In Everwealth and its rival territories, heraldry is more than battlefield flair. it is a declaration of philosophy, identity, and ancestral intent. Banners are flown not just to intimidate, but to remind. Each color is chosen with care, each symbol traced back to a founding myth, a holy pact, or a pivotal betrayal. To march beneath a banner is to step into a legacy you may not survive, but must represent all the same. Consider the green-and-gold banner of Kibonoji, The Swathed Sword, bearing a golden katana wrapped in floral coils. It’s not just a symbol of their respect of nature or their honor-bound society, it is a visual threat: to them, war is beautiful, war is sacred. Contrast it with The Screaming Eagle of Kathar, a white eagle flying headlong out of a black-crossed purple field, a reminder that from the south comes not just wind and war, but judgment at the end of a sharpened talon. Each flag unfurled across Everwealth’s scarred terrain is a fragment of a greater tapestry, stitched with honor, blood, and prophecy. Even small clans or outlaw bands design sigils, knowing well that in a world this chaotic, a symbol might last longer than a name.