Where other empires raise noble houses, Antioch raises honors. Nobility by blood is rejected. In its place stands a visible system of recognition: cloaks, cords, ribbons, and brands borne openly on the body. These are not baubles but proof of sacrifice, a language by which every citizen reads the life of another.
Children inherit the memory of their parents’ awards but never the right to wear them. Each generation must prove itself anew. In this way Antioch preserves splendor without aristocracy, and dignity without decadence.
The Silver Tag
At the completion of a soldier’s term, the plain iron tag of identification is exchanged for one of burnished silver. Upon it are etched the legion served with, the rank held, and the tours endured. Worn openly upon the chest, it marks the bearer as one who has endured the discipline of the legions and returned with honor intact. For many, it is their proudest possession, a reminder that their voice in the council was not inherited, but earned in blood, mud, and unyielding drill. To see a hall full of Silver Tags glinting in the firelight is to glimpse the iron heart of Antioch.
The Laurel of Valor
A pendant of bronze in the shape of a sprig of laurel, granted for acts of courage performed in battle. It may hang from the neck or be sewn upon the cloak, and when it catches the sun it proclaims to all that its bearer once placed life at hazard for comrades and for Antioch itself. Officers and common soldiers alike may wear it, for valor belongs not only to the highborn but to every hand that grasped a spear or rifle when all seemed lost.
The Ember Cloak
A cloak of deep crimson edged in black, bestowed upon those who suffered grievous wounds yet returned to their post. Few are granted, for few endure such hardship and survive. In markets and temples, men step aside when an Ember Cloak enters, for it is known the price was paid in flesh. Children are hushed to silence, and even priests bow their heads. To wear it is both an honor and a burden, for the cloak proclaims that the empire stands upon scars.
The White Cord
At the completion of their term, healers, midwives, and ward-servants receive the White Cord: a knotted length of linen worn across the chest. It marks years spent in plague tents, in war-camps heavy with the stench of blood, or in village wards where fever claimed as many as famine. Though humble, it is revered, for it is proof that the bearer faced death without sword or shield, and fought it with little more than poultice and steady hand.
The Healer’s Seal
A silver disk engraved with the staff and serpent of Antioch, worn at the collar. It is given only to those who performed feats beyond duty: halting epidemics before they spread, drawing comrades back from the brink of death, or enduring sleepless weeks to save the wounded in numberless droves. To see it is to be reminded that the empire endures not only through battle, but through mercy.
The Crimson Stole
A stole of red cloth, draped across the shoulders, awarded to healers who endured disease or injury in the course of their service yet returned to their charge. It is not uncommon for one who wears it to cough with lingering sickness or limp with a leg poorly healed. In Antioch, such marks are not hidden—they are badges of devotion, as holy as the scars of any soldier.
The Acolyte’s Cord
Those who complete their years tending temple fires and shrines are granted a plain cord of wool tied at the waist. Though simple, it binds them forever to the Sacred Flame. To wear it in public is to say: I once kept the covenant alive, even if only in humble duty.
The Torch of Vigilance
A bronze token shaped as a burning torch, worn upon the breast. It is given to those who bore the Sacred Flame across danger, who rekindled it in besieged towns or carried it through storms to sanctify new shrines. In every age a few such torches gleam, reminding citizens that the empire’s fire has never been wholly extinguished.
The Oathbrand
A mark seared into palm or forearm in the shape of a flame. It is bestowed upon those who confronted heresy, rooted out corruption within the temple, or stood against foes who sought to smother the flame. The Oathbrand is both feared and honored, for it signals one who has walked in shadow for the sake of light.
The Service Band
Upon completion of their term, clerks, builders, and magistrates receive the Service Band: a strip of dyed cloth tied at the wrist. Its color indicates their branch of duty—blue for builders, white for clerks, red for magistrates. It is plain, but no less important than a soldier’s ribbon, for it proclaims that the citizen once gave years to the slow work of record, stone, or law.
The Builder’s Sigil
A bronze clasp cast in the shape of a tower, worn upon cloak or tunic. It is given to those whose labor left behind works of permanence: bridges spanning rivers, aqueducts carrying water to cities, or archives preserving law for generations unborn. In Antioch, to raise such works is counted no less heroic than the winning of battles.
The Gavel of Order
A medallion carved from polished obsidian, granted to magistrates or officials who preserved justice under duress. It is most often awarded posthumously, for many who earn it do so by exposing corruption at the cost of their lives. To see it worn is to know one has gazed into danger not with sword, but with law.
The Green Sash
A length of cloth dyed deep green, worn about the waist. It is granted to those who endured frontier service: planting fields in hostile soil, digging roads through wilderness, or guarding outposts from beasts and brigands. Its color is plain, but when seen in the capital it commands quiet respect, for the Green Sash is a reminder that empires fall to famine long before they fall to war.
The Torch-Bearer’s Badge
A token of carved wood in the shape of a torch, worn upon a cord around the neck. It is given to explorers who mapped new routes, to settlers who tamed new land, and to those who bore Antioch’s fire into the unknown. Though humble, it is beloved, for it signals one who went where no citizen had gone before.
The Stonebrand
A ritual mark carved into the flesh of the arm and darkened with ash. It is reserved for those who endured calamity—sieges where grain ran out, mines that collapsed yet were dug again, settlements where the strong starved alongside the weak, but did not abandon their duty. It is both a scar and a sigil, proof that the bearer suffered what most would flee.
The Scholar’s Knot
At the completion of their term, scholars and tutors are given a cord interwoven with threads stained black by ink. It is worn across the shoulder, a modest sign that the bearer once spent years in thought and study, sharpening the empire’s wisdom.
The Gilded Lens
A medallion shaped as an eye, its center polished like glass. It is given for discoveries or inventions that advanced Antioch’s knowledge: new medicines, improved engines, or instruments that expanded the empire’s reach. To wear it is to be counted among the few who changed how the empire understands its world.
The Scroll of Revelation
A white ribbon edged with gold, inscribed in ink with the bearer’s name and their field of study. It is bestowed only when a discovery shifts the empire’s destiny—an innovation that saves lives, alters war, or changes the shape of Antioch’s memory. It is exceedingly rare, and citizens travel far to glimpse one.
The Novitiate’s Mark
A bronze pin shaped as a small flame, granted to all who complete sanctioned service in the magical orders. It is often seen on wardens who patrolled the empire’s borders against sorcery or scribes who copied spells for the state’s archives.
The Sigil of Binding
A silver amulet engraved with runes of restraint, awarded to those who contained magical disasters or defeated sorcery gone awry. When worn in council, it serves as reassurance that the empire can master the most perilous of forces.
The Veilbrand
A tattoo inked in dark blue upon the wrist or palm, given only to those who risked both life and soul in the containment of forbidden magic. Many who bear it are regarded with awe, but also with unease. For the Veilbrand proclaims not only bravery, but proximity to powers most fear to name.
In Antioch, these honors are no mere adornment. They are the empire’s living history, carried not in books alone but upon the flesh and raiment of its people. To hide them is shame, to display them is duty. In the council chamber, a thousand colors and metals gleam in firelight, each a testament that the state is not an abstraction but a collection of sacrifices.
Children may inherit the memory of their parents’ awards, but never the right to wear them. Each generation must prove itself anew, or stand only as residents without voice. Thus the Sacred Flame burns unbroken, fed by service remembered and renewed.