[The Deity's inhalation is sudden, almost violent at the warm, golden glow that has seared itself on the back of the young man's palm. A finger extends as though to touch it, curling in on itself and away at the last, possible second. He cannot.]
The Three.... [Whether he meant the Goddesses or the wielders, he wasn't sure.]
[action]
The Three.... [Whether he meant the Goddesses or the wielders, he wasn't sure.]
The others. Worthy of the mark?