Within every soul there is a space reserved for what we call a godmark. Most live their entire lives without ever utilizing this space, for most gods do not deign to grant their followers such power lightly. Soulmarked individuals, those who have a connection to their deity, can directly utilize powers mere magicians cannot but envy.

Some few, the godsouled, are born with that space already ignited, the mark of a higher power clear in their life from birth.

While uncommon, it is not unheard-of for a godsouled to convert from one master to another. In these cases, the original godmark is superseded so completely that it may as well never have existed.

For though they are varied in their purposes, power, and temperament, if there is one thing we can say is universally true about gods, it is that they never share space.

-excerpt from ‘Soulmarked’ by Goro Verasithine.

She noticed first the emptiness, a void within her where [[email protected]!?!?&?!!??] ought to reside. She reached, increasingly desperately, trying to grasp [??!?!&[email protected][email protected]??]’s presence, but it was beyond her.

Second, she noticed she was not alone. Though there was no one within, there were a great many beings all around her.

Last, the voice, which had at first been merely a background murmur of meaningless noise, no more than an absence of silence, came into focus, and she realized that she was being addressed.

“Evari Porantot? We are sorry to interrupt your repose, but there is a matter of uncertainty in regards to your fate.”

She nodded acknowledgment. Evari Uli Porantot ve [[email protected][email protected]!!!!!?&??] was her name. Her repose, if that was what it could be called, had been interrupted. Naturally, there must be a question.

Evari did not question the knowledge. Though it was new, it was also ancient and familiar.

“In examining your soul to determine your afterlife destination, there was. . . ah. . . a point of contention. Two godmarks were found within you, both strong, neither obviously first or more recent.”

Images appeared in her mind, then, the dark-gleaming brand of [[email protected][email protected]!] and the bright-vibrant tattoo of [??!!!?!?]. Each intimately familiar. Each utterly alien and unknowable.

“Both deities claim you as their champion. Both have declined to comment further on the state of your soul. Neither will cede anything to the other. So, though it is unconventional, we have woken you to ask. Who do you truly follow? Which mark is true, and which an echo of history?”

ON THIS YOU SHALL NOT SPEAK

It wasn’t a memory, not exactly; it was deeper than a memory, going back farther than her entire life. It was embedded within her being. She knew, without a hint of doubt, that to disobey was to die. Worse than die. To disobey would be unthinkable.

Evari said nothing.

“You must answer us!”

She did not answer.

The words continued. She allowed the interrogation to fade into meaningless noise. She wasn’t going to speak, so there was no reason to listen.

But this was a mistake. The lack of distraction allowed her mind to wander, drawn inevitably back to the eternal void, the emptiness within her, the feeling of wrongness and absence and yearning and uncertainty and imbalance.

Forsaken. Abandoned. Left alone. Directionless. Helpless.

And she knew (relentless knowledge permeating her being even if she refused to hear the words) that all she needed to do was claim one or the other deity as her patron. Both wanted her, neither could have her. Unless she chose them.

One word, one gesture, one indication of choice, and this could end. She could leave this purgatory of broken loneliness and go on to someone who waited to reward their champion.

ON THIS YOU SHALL NOT SPEAK

Helpless frustration rose within her, but she could not contravene the imposition of silence. It was a deeper part of her than her mind, deeper than memory. Soul-deep, and deeper still. If Evari Uli Porantot ve [[email protected][email protected]&?!!!?!] had a core, then those words were wrapped within it so inextricably, even tearing her body and mind and soul all apart into minuscule pieces could not excise them.

And she was so alone. Bound to silence in a circumstance where only speaking could offer relief.

Was this a punishment? Some twisted hell for past misdeeds?

What had she done?

Actual memory was restricted here in order to not influence her decision. She knew it without doubt. They required an answer based on who she was, not any individual actions in her life.

But she would not speak, and eventually they fell silent.

“There is one contingency for such a situation, but it seems harsh and could lead to trouble for you.”

The words slipped in before she could think to block them out, coming sudden on the tail of long silence.

“I don’t care,” Evari said. “I cannot choose between them. Do what you must.”

Would they end this? End her?

Emptiness, void, drawing, pulling away at her sanity, at her sense of self, a pain she couldn’t ignore, couldn’t look away from.

It would be a relief to vanish, to un-be. Anything was preferable to this.

“Then we grant you a trial of living. Perhaps next time you’ll be less indecisive.”

The sense of presences surrounding her faded, but as they did she thought she heard a quiet sigh.

"Until next time, twinsoul."