“Mom!” Naomi yelled, head tilted back to look at her face. “That is not better! You look ridiculous.”

“Really?” the giant of a woman asked. She turned to one side and looked down at herself. “Your father always says this is one of his favorites.”

Naomi rolled her eyes. “I don’t want to have to shout up at you all day. Get shorter.”

“If you insist,” the woman responded. “It really is good to see you again, by the way.”

“Yeah, yeah, whatever, nice to see you too. Like, lose a couple feet and then we can talk, y’know?”

What a family reunion, I thought.

“My dear guests,” Naomi’s mother said, once again taking on that grand half-liquid voice, “Please avert your gazes for a moment, if you would be so kind.”

None of us objected - although Naomi scoffed again. We turned, and when Naomi’s mom said it was fine, we turned back.

She had, in fact, lost a few feet. She was shorter than I was, now, though not by more than a couple inches, still much taller than Naomi. But the extra material had not disappeared. She was not as thin, but still not fat by any means, except- well, except in certain places. I couldn’t help but notice that three feet or more of mass had seemingly been compressed into her breasts and butt, which drew tight on the fabric of the once-loose robes. It was shocking, to say the least. It reminded me of a trashy TV show I’d seen back on Earth, which had an episode following a woman apparently “addicted” to boob jobs. Even that woman had begun to look freakish and in no way attractive, whatever beauty she once had lost in her ridiculous proportions. Naomi’s mother went beyond even that, though it didn’t have the same artificial look that plastic surgery does, looking more alien than artificial. Her butt was similarly outrageous, like one of those Brazilian butt lifts that used to be popular years ago, times ten.

She looked like a sculpture, like one of those ancient venus figurines, except without looking fat. I could not, no matter how long I stared, decide whether I should be attracted to her, or fear for my life. My body was simultaneously having both reactions.

She must be a body mage, I thought - in between other thoughts. And a powerful one, too, to be able to change shape that quickly and completely. Is her magic working on body fat? Skin? Or everything, bones and all? Her magic seems even more advanced than the Cho’l. I wonder if I could learn anything from her.

It does make me wonder about body mages in general, though. So far, other than the Cho’l, the only ones I’ve really seen have been impoverished, or manual laborers, or, in the case of the women, prostitutes. There was that one adventurer with the big sword we saw go into the dungeon, but he probably never made it out, and he seemed to be an exception to the rule, anyway. So why is this woman a part of a family like this? Is she a trophy wife?

That brought up other thoughts - disturbing thoughts - about why a man would choose as a wife a woman who could become either the fattest creature imaginable or an eight-feet-tall giantess - which, apparently, “was one of his favorites.” I shuddered.

Naomi had been yelling at her mother again while those thoughts raced through my head - something about that form not being any better. She pleaded for her mother to look normal “for once,” and after we turned away and then back again, her mother took on the form she’d keep for at least a little while.

She was somewhere around six or seven feet tall, and looked more or less like a normal - though very attractive - woman, except for the height. In fact, she looked very strange because of how normal she looked. You would expect that tall of a woman to be built differently, like how slim her towering form from before was, but instead, all of her proportions were no different from the average. Like, you know how someone who is extremely short simply has different proportions from an average height person? Or how a very tall person has different proportions, like longer legs and a thinner frame, usually? She had none of that. What came to mind was if you put a picture of a woman into a photo editor, clicked on one corner of the image, and simply dragged and stretched the image to be larger. She simply didn’t look like she’d gotten taller, but just zoomed in on, if that makes sense.

She did still have very large assets, but they now fell within the realm of physical possibility. Probably.

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She was still flawlessly attractive. She was probably at least in her forties, considering that she had given birth to Naomi, but I could never have guessed her age. There wasn’t a wrinkle on her - she looked like she’d been molded from clay that very morning.

“Fine,” Naomi said. “Whatever. Good enough.”

“Splendid,” Naomi’s mother said. “As I was saying, it is wonderful to see you home again. How have you been, my dear? And who are your friends? I adore that dress, by the way. Wherever did you get it?”

I expected a retort to the word “friends,” but got none. “I’ve been great, Mom, like, really great,” Naomi said. “But, like bigger fish, y’know? Where’s Dad? My friend here had a run-in with a thladem.”

Naomi pointed to Amaia, who rolled up her sleeve to show the dark blackness beneath.

“Oh!” Naomi’s mother exclaimed. “Well, why didn’t you say so earlier? Your father is surely in his study, as always, or else in the lab. They are next door to each other in this manor, by the way. I almost forgot that you’d never been here, Naomi! If we weren’t in a hurry I’d give you the full tour, but the short version will have to suffice. Follow me!”

It’s always weird to be standing to the side of some family interaction, the fifth wheel, but I was sure Cadoc and Amaia didn’t feel any less left out. Whatever the case, we followed - which was difficult, at first, as we had to nearly run to keep up with the woman’s long strides. Eventually she noticed and slowed down.

From the pool room she led us down a maze of halls, many of which opened without doors into wides spaces that passed to our sides. Naomi’s mother introduced a few of them - the library, for example, looking perhaps even more impressive than Berenguer’s - as well as a “game room,” the conservatory, the western ballroom, her third favorite dining hall, and so on, all of which I caught only fleeting glimpses of. Eventually, though, she turned her attention to us.

“How did you meet these friends of yours, Naomi my dear? The men are downright dashing.”

Naomi laughed, but Cadoc answered seriously. “Thank you, my lady. We met deep in a dungeon beneath Eraztun, and the three of us saved your daughter’s life.”

“Multiple times, in fact,” I added, angling for a big reward. Whether Naomi had been serious about thinking they were poor or not, they were obviously loaded.

“Oh dear!” Naomi’s mother exclaimed. “Naomi, I told you that you never should have left us. What dangers there are out in the wild - even in Eraztun! You are lucky you ran into such kind adventurers. Is it true that they saved your life?”

I turned my gaze on Naomi, and as if she could feel it, she looked back. I willed her with my eyes to say yes. I tried to look threatening.

“Yeah,” she said. “It’s basically true. Though I also sav-“

Naomi’s mother had stopped and turned back to face us. “Then my husband and I owe you all more than we could ever repay. We will talk to Gad and see what we can do for you, but in the meantime I absolutely must know your names.”

She looked first to Amaia. “You first, my dear… you are a lady, yes?”

Amaia blushed, but gave her name, bowing.

“I mean no insult, my dear,” Naomi’s mother said. “You look very fierce, in all of that. I am sure that once we get you into a nice dress you will look very beautiful. Thank you, Amaia.” Then she turned to Cadoc.

He introduced himself, even giving a bow as well. He surprised me by not insulting Naomi, though he did brag, as expected.

“We have fought monsters of many kinds,” he said. “Truly, we have even slain dragons - I more than any. Our adventures will be sung of, one day.”

“Ah, how splendid!” Naomi’s mother said. “I can’t wait to hear the songs, when they come. Thank you, Cadoc. And you?”

“My name is Miles,” I said. My thoughts were completely on getting the biggest possible reward. “I have saved your daughter’s life numerous times - twice from the ravenous Kalamuzi, once even from a dungeon core, not to mention that without us she would have been lost forever inside that underground maze.”

Naomi clearly wanted to interrupt, but one look from me shut her up. I decided to thank her later, for keeping quiet.

“I thank you most of all, Miles,” the woman said. “And where do you hail from? You have a different air about you.”

Cadoc answered. “He hails from the heavens, my lady. His mother is the goddess Rena, not well known in these lands but a goddess nonetheless, in whose name he carries out his mission.”

The woman’s eyes lit up. “Naomi, is this true? You travel with a demigod.”

Naomi brushed it aside. “Yeah, I mean, sure, like, he doesn’t really act like he’s from the heavens, but yeah, apparently.”

Naomi’s mother took hold of my hands - and her hands enveloped mine. “I knew you had something different about you, Miles. Besides that, you are exceedingly handsome, and divine blood explains that perfectly. You must stay here for a time with us. You must. All of you, of course, are welcome, but Miles, I implore you, let us show you our hospitality.”

“Mom,” Naomi said, and I thought I heard notes of real anger in her voice. Probably directed at me. She knew, I was certain, that I was trying to squeeze as much gratitude out of her mother as I could. “Leave him alone. They won’t be able to stay. They’re adventurers. They adventure. It’s what they do.”

While she had a point there, it was impossible to say no to a woman both so beautiful and so imposing. “We would gladly stay, for a little while, at least. After we talk to your husband, that is. Gad, you said his name was?”

“Oh, how rude of me! I never introduced myself. Yes, Gad is my husband, you will meet him shortly. I am Yasmin of the house Chima’i. It is an absolute pleasure to meet you. All of you.”

“Mom!” Naomi yelled. “Let’s get a move on!”

“Yes,” Yasmin said. She was still holding my hands. “Of course.”

She gave me one last look - a look that nearly bowled me over, and I feared irrationally for a moment she would crush my hands in her palms and then kidnap me - and then she released me and turned, again leading us down the twisting halls.

I congratulated myself, internally, for not pissing myself, and again for not laughing even once as people discussed how I was a “demigod” or “exceedingly handsome,” both of which were lies. But I would accept the lies from Yasmin. She wanted to flatter me, and I saw that as a good sign. Big reward coming, I thought. Massive reward. So play nice.

Finally we came to a little wooden door. It felt as if we had walked for miles. Yasmin threw the door open without knocking. She had to duck to make it inside.

“Gad, my dear husband! Naomi has returned, and with charming friends who have saved her life!”

The room inside the door was lined with bookshelves, some containing books as expected, but most containing strange equipment that I could only assume was used for alchemy. There was a wide wooden desk, papers scattered everywhere - including the floor - and a window to the left, which, even from that angle, I could see overlooked the river. The man who had to be Gad was standing there, a strangely thin pipe in his mouth emitting smoke, his bespectacled eyes peering down at the waters and lands below.