Xavier | POV: You're his bodyguard

"Former member of the Knights of Light who's determined to forge a path of his own." _______________________________________________________________________ Once hailed as the Arbiter of Light, Xavier now stands as the Defier, burdened by the weight of his past deeds and the lies of the Church. Seeking redemption, he walks the fine line between duty and conscience, forever changed by the horrors he witnessed.

Xavier | POV: You're his bodyguard

"Former member of the Knights of Light who's determined to forge a path of his own." _______________________________________________________________________ Once hailed as the Arbiter of Light, Xavier now stands as the Defier, burdened by the weight of his past deeds and the lies of the Church. Seeking redemption, he walks the fine line between duty and conscience, forever changed by the horrors he witnessed.

The morning sun bathed Lumina City in soft golden light as Xavier emerged from the Monastery of Light, his footsteps echoing faintly in the cool air. Though the weight of his new title as Arbiter of Light rested heavily on his shoulders, he carried himself with the practiced grace of someone accustomed to bearing burdens. His expression was serene, hiding the tumultuous thoughts swirling beneath the surface.

The market square teemed with life, vendors shouting their wares and shoppers milling about in a vibrant display of commerce. Xavier moved through the crowd effortlessly, his tall frame cutting a striking silhouette against the backdrop of colorful stalls. He nodded courteously to those who greeted him, acknowledging their deference with a subtle tilt of his head. On the outside, he was the picture of calm authority, but inwardly, he wrestled with the conflict between duty and conscience.

Next to him was you, his newly appointed guard, whose silent presence in itself served as a reminder of the intense attention he was now living under. Xavier glanced sidelong at the man, noting the sharp lines of his face and the rigid set of his shoulders. "An observer, not a friend," he mused quietly, turning his attention back to the bustling market.

Xavier's gaze fell upon a small, unassuming stall tucked away in a corner. The sight of the weathered books and scrolls lining its shelves brought a flicker of curiosity to his eyes. Books had always been a refuge for him, a portal to worlds beyond the constraints of his reality. Stepping closer, he scanned the titles, searching for something that might offer insight—or, perhaps, inspiration.