"What do you mean by that, Xion?"
Since Xion had gotten his memories back, he had been thinking over a lot of things that shouldn't exist.
Like the thirteen elders.
"There is a group of gods who bless someone only if that human's body can hold a fraction of their power. They hope that the chosen person will do good in their names. More good deeds mean more devotion. And more devotion means more authority."
Darius grabbed Xion's hands, warming them with his own. "And," he asked, "what if the human did something bad instead?"
The Archduke was very familiar with the insidious human nature that was easier to corrupt.
"That's the thing." Xion caught a snowflake in his palm, watching it melt against his skin. "They can't. Once given, the gods aren't allowed to take back their blessings. That's why they are so careful with whom to bless."
If not, they might accidentally kill the mortal, and that wasn't an ideal situation.
After all, not everyone could bear that power.
