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Sleep did not come easily to Brother Uriah Macawber the night after he had discovered his true parentage. As he and his friends laid down to rest in their tent at the Carnival, he felt as though he would never be comfortable enough to sleep again. His muscles couldn't relax, and though he had taken off his heavy coat and chainmail, he still felt the weight of them on his body.

One by one, Uriah's companions fell asleep or went into repose, and the silence gave him no comfort. It only allowed him to hear the beat of his own heart, which he now knew was a heart born from dark magic. The blood in his veins was that of Azalin Rex, and it sickened him to think of it, but here in the stillness of the tent, there was nothing else. He was almost afraid to go to sleep. What if his creator took over his body while he was unconscious and hurt his friends?

Uriah looked up at the undead angel who sat right beside him, staring off into the distance in the same sort of eerie meditation that she did every night. Nahara was beautiful and kind and capable, and he feared her coming to harm most of all. She had bound herself to Azalin in hopes of protecting Uriah long before she had even known that he was Azalin's unwitting son- no, progeny, and he had to wonder if Azalin would use him to punish her if she stepped out of line. Or perhaps the lich would simply take him one day and leave her with nothing for her bargain.

A darker part of Uriah considered waking Fen and asking her to kill him so that Azalin could never use him to hurt anyone, but his rational mind knew that that ultimately wouldn't solve anything. Fen had promised to take him out only if it was absolutely necessary and not before, so in the meantime, he had to push aside his fear and focus on being there for all those who needed him and for all those he loved.

He quietly sent out a prayer to Ezra, Lady of the Mists, asking that she protect his friends and give him the strength to one day free himself of the man who had made him. In his exhausted state, he thought the soft glow of Nahara's white irises had taken on a misty quality. When he blinked, however, it was gone.

The sound of a gentle breeze outside the tent filled the silence and eventually lulled Uriah to sleep at last.