Nyxion's POV

The playpen was alive with little children running around and basking in the faint moonlight. It wasn't uncommon for them to be up this late, but I was extremely tired. This wasn't what I had in mind when Aerila dragged me out here.

"Babe! Come! The kids want a painting!" Aerila called for the fiftieth time. It had been like this since we got here, different services at some times, or ten services at once.

It's not that I didn't like the children; they were fun, but ...