Weekly Flag Challenge: Discussion & Entries
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Not too long to go and we'd like at least a 3rd entry - don't make us extend the entry period! 
The Thaumarchy of Kaltion
The land of Kaltion was, for centuries, split between the Seven Polis: Geminor, Janum, Ashvin, Roremus, Ablicain, Apollemisia, and Hypnatos. The steady balance between them was kept by their rulers, who harnessed magic with ease. Known as the Administrators, they were the most powerful mage of each city, though some decided ascension by varying means. And then arose an eighth power; Isithys. Once a border town on the edge of Geminor, the endless dunes of the Hash'avashara Desert to the South, Isithys quickly became a hub of commerce once gold was found in the banks of the river for which it was named, and soon enough the discovery of buried ruins, thought to belong to the ancestors of the nomadic insect-men known as Zeshar, made it both the home of the those seeking wealth, fame, and adventure alike. These young people would form a community in their own right, and grow the town exponentially. Once conflict of policy arose between the multicultural city and the xenophobic Geminor, Isithys declared itself independent, but agreed to sign the Pact of Amity after a brief but bloody war with its former rulers. And so the Seven Polis became the Eight.
But while all of this was happening, a new movement was rising. In the Eight Polis, the thaumaturges ruled; these beings could use themselves and words of power to pull upon the Filament, the magical energy that permeated the world, born with a natural connection to it, and with study any thaumaturge could bend the elements to their will. The vast majority of Humanity, however, alongside the goblins (to whom now thaumaturges were ever born), was without such a connection. They were the prosaics. Depending on the Polis, prosaics were second-class citizens, serfs, slaves, or even (in the case of Ablicain) exterminated. Even Isithys fueled its growth with prosaic slavery. The only nation not dominated by thaumaturges (for even the Zeshar were guided by the incredibly rare shaman) was Skadheim, an expansive waste of frigid tundra to the North, where the many tribes were brought to heel only by the iron will and bloody blade of the current High Jarl. But amongst the prosaics, spoken in the publicly forbidden slave tongue, they spoke of a legend. A legend in which a saviour would rise from amongst them, the Imaal, who would take down the regimes of old and end the supremacy of magic. And it would just so happen that a man would arrive in Geminor just before the war with Isithys.
The Imaal led a massive uprising, which soon spread to the other cities. Few prosaics were ever taught the one means by which they could use magic; runes. When precisely cut and used with the right ingredients, runes could resonate the strength of spoken words of power to allow prosaics to, in simple ways, pull at the Filament. Indeed, very few were masters, as only the most loyal slaves in the military would be educated in such things, but enough joined the fabled hero. Using these runes to empower weapons and help weaken enemy spells, and using overwhelming numbers, hit-and-run tactics, and assassination, the Imaal was able to see the fall of the great city-states until only Ablicain remained. A network of mountain fortresses, Ablicain was the last hope for the thaumaturges, who were either killed or made into rune-branded slaves, killable with an utterance. The Eight Administrators and their families had fled to this last great city early on, hoping to strategize in a place that lacked the rebellions that plagued the others. But they knew time was short. The newly proclaimed Free Empire of Kaltion was on the march, bloodlust in their minds for the nation that had chosen to kill any and all prosaics. In an attempt to legitimize themselves, the Administrators agreed to unify, and declared the Thaumarchy of Kaltion, with one Administrator to be elected to the position of Hegemon by the other seven, a new one elected upon death or abdication. While intially helping to unify the armies to fight together against the rebellions, old rivalries and conflicting tactics and generals resulted in minimal gains before the Free Empire began to truly prove itself the master of the realm, even unifying with Skadheim. And so, one morning, as the prosaic forces were amassing, the earth rumbled, and suddenly the mountains shifted, new walls of stone rising to swallow up the city and townships of Ablicain, making it a part of the mountains, too deep to even dig to.
The Free Empire was content to let the last thaumaturges starve beneath the Ablicanish Mountains. But they did not. Instead, using their powers, they established their own underground farms, using once forbidden practices to create new animals and plants for their use. An elaborate network of tunnels were dug, and so they became a people of the mountains, moving beneath, only surfacing to raid or to defend themselves from incursion. For the Free Empire this was both a blessing and a curse; while they could not traverse the once vital trade routes safely, they now had not only a boogeyman to rally their people with, but a place to dump rebellious slaves as well. Thaumaturges that proved too strong willed or too troublesome were cast out, sent into the caves, although the strongest were merely killed. Prosaic political foes would face similar fates, and so it was that the Thaumarchy, operating under the range, became even more radicalized with hate, and soon their people prided themselves not just on their magic, but on their subterranean lifestyle, a testament to their power and determination. As a warning, the entrances to their networks were marked by the Free Empire, which had learned to circumvent the mountain paths and valleys through innovations in steam-ships. These entrances, under constant military watch for a reclaiming army, saw the warning banners changed with that of a black banner, the symbol of the Thaumarchy. A simple, long black strip, it had a golden symbol upon it; the Star of the Filament, eight-pointed and surrounded by stars of five points and six, was once a common symbol of thaumaturge hierarchy, representing the way in which the Filament went through both forces of light (six-pointed) and of dark (five-pointed). This symbol became used during the war increasingly, as the now Eight Polis wanted a way to show their unity as a singular state, the coincidental number of points on the main-star and its importance to magic symbolism making it a more than obvious choice. But further, placed upon the star, is the Triluminary Eye, a symbol of the now extinct House of Ilva, which established Janum and created the first city-state to be ruled by thaumaturges, who once were feared as monsters by the prosaics of the country-side.
The land of Kaltion was, for centuries, split between the Seven Polis: Geminor, Janum, Ashvin, Roremus, Ablicain, Apollemisia, and Hypnatos. The steady balance between them was kept by their rulers, who harnessed magic with ease. Known as the Administrators, they were the most powerful mage of each city, though some decided ascension by varying means. And then arose an eighth power; Isithys. Once a border town on the edge of Geminor, the endless dunes of the Hash'avashara Desert to the South, Isithys quickly became a hub of commerce once gold was found in the banks of the river for which it was named, and soon enough the discovery of buried ruins, thought to belong to the ancestors of the nomadic insect-men known as Zeshar, made it both the home of the those seeking wealth, fame, and adventure alike. These young people would form a community in their own right, and grow the town exponentially. Once conflict of policy arose between the multicultural city and the xenophobic Geminor, Isithys declared itself independent, but agreed to sign the Pact of Amity after a brief but bloody war with its former rulers. And so the Seven Polis became the Eight.
But while all of this was happening, a new movement was rising. In the Eight Polis, the thaumaturges ruled; these beings could use themselves and words of power to pull upon the Filament, the magical energy that permeated the world, born with a natural connection to it, and with study any thaumaturge could bend the elements to their will. The vast majority of Humanity, however, alongside the goblins (to whom now thaumaturges were ever born), was without such a connection. They were the prosaics. Depending on the Polis, prosaics were second-class citizens, serfs, slaves, or even (in the case of Ablicain) exterminated. Even Isithys fueled its growth with prosaic slavery. The only nation not dominated by thaumaturges (for even the Zeshar were guided by the incredibly rare shaman) was Skadheim, an expansive waste of frigid tundra to the North, where the many tribes were brought to heel only by the iron will and bloody blade of the current High Jarl. But amongst the prosaics, spoken in the publicly forbidden slave tongue, they spoke of a legend. A legend in which a saviour would rise from amongst them, the Imaal, who would take down the regimes of old and end the supremacy of magic. And it would just so happen that a man would arrive in Geminor just before the war with Isithys.
The Imaal led a massive uprising, which soon spread to the other cities. Few prosaics were ever taught the one means by which they could use magic; runes. When precisely cut and used with the right ingredients, runes could resonate the strength of spoken words of power to allow prosaics to, in simple ways, pull at the Filament. Indeed, very few were masters, as only the most loyal slaves in the military would be educated in such things, but enough joined the fabled hero. Using these runes to empower weapons and help weaken enemy spells, and using overwhelming numbers, hit-and-run tactics, and assassination, the Imaal was able to see the fall of the great city-states until only Ablicain remained. A network of mountain fortresses, Ablicain was the last hope for the thaumaturges, who were either killed or made into rune-branded slaves, killable with an utterance. The Eight Administrators and their families had fled to this last great city early on, hoping to strategize in a place that lacked the rebellions that plagued the others. But they knew time was short. The newly proclaimed Free Empire of Kaltion was on the march, bloodlust in their minds for the nation that had chosen to kill any and all prosaics. In an attempt to legitimize themselves, the Administrators agreed to unify, and declared the Thaumarchy of Kaltion, with one Administrator to be elected to the position of Hegemon by the other seven, a new one elected upon death or abdication. While intially helping to unify the armies to fight together against the rebellions, old rivalries and conflicting tactics and generals resulted in minimal gains before the Free Empire began to truly prove itself the master of the realm, even unifying with Skadheim. And so, one morning, as the prosaic forces were amassing, the earth rumbled, and suddenly the mountains shifted, new walls of stone rising to swallow up the city and townships of Ablicain, making it a part of the mountains, too deep to even dig to.
The Free Empire was content to let the last thaumaturges starve beneath the Ablicanish Mountains. But they did not. Instead, using their powers, they established their own underground farms, using once forbidden practices to create new animals and plants for their use. An elaborate network of tunnels were dug, and so they became a people of the mountains, moving beneath, only surfacing to raid or to defend themselves from incursion. For the Free Empire this was both a blessing and a curse; while they could not traverse the once vital trade routes safely, they now had not only a boogeyman to rally their people with, but a place to dump rebellious slaves as well. Thaumaturges that proved too strong willed or too troublesome were cast out, sent into the caves, although the strongest were merely killed. Prosaic political foes would face similar fates, and so it was that the Thaumarchy, operating under the range, became even more radicalized with hate, and soon their people prided themselves not just on their magic, but on their subterranean lifestyle, a testament to their power and determination. As a warning, the entrances to their networks were marked by the Free Empire, which had learned to circumvent the mountain paths and valleys through innovations in steam-ships. These entrances, under constant military watch for a reclaiming army, saw the warning banners changed with that of a black banner, the symbol of the Thaumarchy. A simple, long black strip, it had a golden symbol upon it; the Star of the Filament, eight-pointed and surrounded by stars of five points and six, was once a common symbol of thaumaturge hierarchy, representing the way in which the Filament went through both forces of light (six-pointed) and of dark (five-pointed). This symbol became used during the war increasingly, as the now Eight Polis wanted a way to show their unity as a singular state, the coincidental number of points on the main-star and its importance to magic symbolism making it a more than obvious choice. But further, placed upon the star, is the Triluminary Eye, a symbol of the now extinct House of Ilva, which established Janum and created the first city-state to be ruled by thaumaturges, who once were feared as monsters by the prosaics of the country-side.
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What universe is this flag based on? Is it a video game, novel etc or completely fictional?
Great job to both of you! Mine pales in comparison
AH don't worry. Some of my early flags were pretty bad. Like JPEG atrocities of pink, brown, and lime green. Plus I've done a lot of these challenges and I check out the Flag Request thread. Both are great ways to improve.
AH thank you for the encouragement and advice. I will go check out that thread.
Unless @Mirror gets to it first, the poll will be up tomorrow when I have computer rather than mobile access.
I went ahead and posted it
https://www.alternatehistory.com/forum/threads/weekly-flag-challenge-166-poll.417985/
If your flag is original you can. Just remember that ultimately, you win by votes, and people like originality.
I want to say yes, but I'm worried that might allow too much leeway. I'll say this; it can be a country and a nation within another country (as in a region with a distinct cultural group within)