On Eldros, faith was not optional.
It was law.
The floating sanctuaries hovered above the planet's surface, suspended by radiant pillars of divine energy. The Order of Lumina governed from above, preaching balance, sacrifice, and obedience to the Light.
Xavier was born inside the highest sanctuary.
He never doubted.
As a child, he memorized scriptures before he learned strategy. He knelt longer than others during prayer. He believed the Light watched him — not to judge, but to guide.
"The Light rewards devotion," the High Cleric would say.
Xavier lived for that reward.
At thirteen, he manifested Radiance.
Golden energy flared from his palms during a ceremony, brighter than anyone expected. The sanctuary gasped.
"A chosen vessel," the High Cleric declared.
Xavier felt warmth flood his chest.
Chosen.
He trained harder after that. Sparred longer. Studied deeper. Fasted without complaint.
If the Light had chosen him, he would prove worthy.
Eldros was divided.
The sanctuaries floated above.
The surface dwellers lived below in shadow — mining the crystal cores that powered the divine pillars.
"They are guided by us," the Order taught. "Without the Light, they would fall into chaos."
Xavier believed it.
Until the day he was sent below.
A crystal mine had collapsed.
Surface casualties were high.
The Order dispatched Xavier and a small escort to "stabilize morale."
Xavier descended through the radiant pillar, expecting gratitude.
Instead, he found smoke.
Dust.
Blood.
Families clawing through rubble with bare hands.
No divine choir.
No blessings.
A woman grabbed his robe.
"Where was your Light?" she demanded.
Xavier froze.
He raised his hands instinctively, golden radiance forming.
The Light flared brilliantly.
He cleared rubble effortlessly.
He healed fractures.
He saved lives.
For a moment, the surface dwellers stared at him in awe.
Then the pillar above flickered.
Just slightly.
Xavier felt it.
A strain.
He looked upward.
The escort captain stepped close.
"Enough," the captain said quietly. "Return."
"They still need help," Xavier replied.
"The pillar is destabilizing," the captain said. "Surface operations are not priority."
Xavier stared at him.
"Lives are priority."
The captain's expression hardened.
"The sanctuaries are priority."
That was the first crack in Xavier's faith.
He returned to the sanctuary as ordered.
The surface miners were left to dig out the rest of their dead alone.
That night, Xavier knelt longer than ever before.
"Why?" he whispered to the Light.
Silence answered.
Weeks later, he overheard something he was never meant to hear.
Two High Clerics speaking behind sealed doors.
"The lower mines are reaching depletion," one said.
"The pillar stability?" the other asked.
"Sacrificial realignment may be required."
Xavier's breath caught.
"Surface population density?" the second voice asked.
"Acceptable loss."
The words hit harder than any blade.
Acceptable loss.
Xavier stepped back, heart pounding.
He had believed the Light demanded sacrifice for balance.
He had never considered that others were being chosen for him.
That night, the golden energy in his palms flickered differently.
Not warm.
Unsteady.
For the first time in his life, Xavier wondered:
What if the Light was not pure?
And if it wasn't…
What did that make him?