"So, your parents are Arnold Schwarzenegger and Bridgitte Nielsen," Jon said, sitting on my pauldron as I went to visit my sister.

I'd stayed with the rest of the group long enough to get dinner, check out the new flush toilets (so beautiful!), and make sure everyone was safely secured for the evening. We couldn't stay in Dragon Keep if Veles' minions were all among us. Unfortunately, putting my family on the road would do nothing to guarantee their safety either.

I wanted to track down Weis and strangle him for his role in this but the archwizard remained conveniently out of range for any murderous impulses I might be feeling. It was a shame too because it was the thing I wanted to do most other than spend some with Ania now that she was opening up. Well, spend some time with Ania and maybe my parents. I mean, I wanted to spend time with them and I really, really didn't, if that made sense.

"Please don't ruin Red Sonja for me," I muttered, walking along the hallways. "I don't need to think of my mother as Brigitte Nielsen."

"If that annoying little kid didn't ruin that movie for you, nothing I say will," Jon said. "I swear, your mom looks exactly like a chick I saw in an old barbarian flick. It was all in Italian and on Skinemax at 3 AM, but I wasn't watching it for the plot.

I clenched my teeth. "The Crimson Sorceress."

Jon did a double take. "Holy shit. That was her?"

"It was very tasteful," I muttered. "Joe D'Amato directed and Roger Corman did the American dub and re-edit. Dad was a stunt double."

"It absolutely was not tasteful," Jon said. "Which is why it was awesome. Oh my God, I saw your mom topless."

I paused. "Okay, I think it's a good time for us to practice polymorphing again."

"I'm sorry, it was very memorable to my thirteen-year-old self!" Jon said. "I just didn't imagine your parents being this way."

"Hugely embarrassing?" I asked.

"Cool!" Jon said. "I was expecting them to be Meet the Fockers and we've got Mr. and Mrs. Smith."

"That's not going to do them a fat lot of good against the monsters here," I replied. "I can't believe Weis sent them here."

"Maybe he didn't," Jon said, looking up and down the hallway for anyone else. There was no one.

"What do you mean?" I asked.

"Maybe Veles assumed Weis' form in order to send your parents here so he could use them as hostages without them knowing," Jon said.

I blinked. "That seems needlessly convoluted versus, you know, just taking them hostage."

"This is a god who showed up to play a children's card game," Jon said.

“It’s not a children’s game,” I said, frowning. “It’s rated M for mature.”

“Boobies do not a mature game make,” Jon said. “Even I know that. I’m just saying Veles is a lot more whimsical than your average dark lord.”

I didn’t have an answer. “Maybe.”

"Also, Pwiffle is awesome, and we should totally be challenging everyone to matches for cash and prizes. We need to Rain Man the shit out of your power."

"First, it's not a power," I said. "Second, Rain Man led to a lot of misinterpretations about how autism--"

"Blah, blah, blah," Jon said. "We need to set up a table at the Black Cat. We can use the hookers as distractions. Cut Maelor in."

I looked for the door that led to my sister's apartments. She'd picked the royal guest room, of course. "I have enough issues with addictive behaviors right now. I don't need you egging me on to other ones."

Jon paused. "Okay, I assume you're referring to Stormbringer #1 and #2. How are you handling that, anyway?"

"I have them buried in a sacred chest in the chapel," I said, pausing. "I can still feel them in my head, though. I think we're going to need to take extraordinary measures to break my connection to them."

You need us.

We can help you.

Provide you with not only power but pleasure.

Pleasures unimaginable.

Just feed us.

The two voices of the swords had switched to female ones that didn't help their case but just made their attempt at manipulating me all the more obvious. I mean, I wasn't that susceptible to my libido.

...

Okay, forget I said that.

"You think Little Orphan Pope-y can help with that?" Jon asked.

"Maybe," I said, knowing I could summon the swords into my hands at any moment and wanting their power. They'd betrayed me fighting Radu, though, and I wasn't going to make that mistake again.

It won't happen again.

You are the strongest.

We were wrong.

I ignored them.

"Yeah, well, I think we've got a lot on our plate right now," Jon said. "Pretty Prince Shorty, Heavy Metal Elf, and... actually, I've run out of nicknames for Joan. Gimme me a minute."

"No," I said, finding my sister's room. It was a pair of wooden doors at the end of the hallway. There were no guards, which was probably a good thing since I didn't trust anyone here but my team.

The genuine version of this novel can be found on another site. Support the author by reading it there.

"They're trying to steer us on a course to the Great Forest and the Siege, but we shouldn't let them direct us," Jon said. "We should do what we want and know we'll get better results."

"Like play a bunch of Pwiffle and ignore the main plot?" I asked.

"Hey, it worked for me!" Jon said, pausing. "Until it didn't."

I knocked on the door with my fist. "Hey, Wendy, it's your brother, Aaron."

"Fuck off!" my sister's voice replied. "This is your fault!"

Jon paused. "I'm noticing a pattern of behavior in the women of your family that may explain a few things."

"This is not my fault!" I snapped back. "I was kidnapped!"

"Oh yes," Wendy replied through the door, closer now. "I bet banging all the hot fantasy women and learning real magic has just been terrible for you."

"She's got you there," Jon replied.

I frowned. "It's actually been very traumatic. I've had to kill people!"

"Boo frickin hoo!" Wendy yelled. "You know who also had to kill people? Alek! You don't see him dragging me off to the Magic Kingdom."

"Yeah, about that," I muttered, not speaking aloud enough to be heard. I then raised my voice. "Just let me in."

One of the doors opened and my sister popped her head out, looking like our mother about thirty years younger. Just when my parents had given up on having their own baby and were happy with me, they'd visited a witch doctor (that was how the 'fertility expert' described themselves), only for Wendy to be born nine months later.

Wendy pointed at my chest. "Don't think I've heard about your heavy metal band."

"My what?" I asked, dumbfounded.

"Steel Rose!" Wendy said, "It sounds like a girl metal band's name, but I bet you think its a good frontman's name."

I opened my mouth then closed it. "Man, word travels fast on nicknames."

"Just stay out of my business!" Wendy said. "I don't want you anywhere near me or my son. You'll end up...Uncle Owen-ing him!"

I blinked. "I think you mean Obi-Wanning him."

"Shut up!" Wendy said.

Georgie's voice spoke from inside her apartments. "Hey, Uncle Aaron, can I be a ninja? These Dark Undermaster guys seem cool, but they have ninjas, right? I want to learn ninja magic like Naruto."

"Sorry, ninjas are all women here, kid," Jon said.

Georgie probably couldn't understand him and only heard crow caws.

"No ninjas!" Wendy said, poking me in the chest. There was no sign of her understanding Jon either. Thank God. "Save the world without us!"

Wendy slammed the door in my face.

I blinked. "Well, that went better than I expected. I think we learned several valuable lessons there."

"Yes, you're attracted to verbally abusive women because of your sister and domineering older ones because of your mother, Auntforker," Jon said.

I took a deep breath, grabbed Jon by the legs and shoved him in a closet before slamming the door on him.

"Oh, come on!" Jon said through the door. "Just a little incest humor! You should be used to it by now!"

"I'll come back for you in the morning," I said, walking away.

"I'll crap all over the place!" Jon said.

"That's what servants and magic are for!" I replied, shaking my head. I sent one of the newcomers to open the door after I left but I admit, I didn't do it myself. The restoration potions were wearing off and I was barely able to get to my room before I collapsed on the bed, sleeping the sleep of the dead.

Unfortunately, sleep did not provide me rest and I once more found myself in the middle of the Fire Temple volcano central vent. I was kneeling on one knee and once more surrounded by cracks pouring out poison and a shaft that led to the sky. Things seemed difference, though, and more menacing. Possibly because I could see glowing light coming from some of the cracks and could feel the energy gathering below. The volcano was active even if my dream self wasn't threatened by it.

Probably.

"Good evening, champion," Zorya Dawnbringer's voice spoke like melodic notes in a song sung at dawn. Which if that was uncharacteristically poetic of me, is just how she that sort of affect. Blame her being a love as well as war goddess.

The smoke in the bottom of the temple swirled and assembled once more into the statuesque Amazon that was now holding two blades in her hand. She was still blindfolded but the rest of her attire was different. Gone were her armor and what replaced it was a red bikini top, loin cloth, and crown that made her look like the pin up version of Wanda Maximoff from the Avengers comics. Back before the movies when they were trying to make her appeal more to fourteen-year-old boys.

Okay, maybe you had to have been there.

My attention was drawn from her, well, incredible hotness to the swords, though. They were the Blades of Chernabog and I instinctively recoiled from their presence. I didn't want anything to do with them anymore. They'd made me feel confidant and powerful, but the price had been my lashing out at everyone I loved. Now my family was here and Ania had said how much I meant to her. I wouldn't, couldn't, succumb to them again.

"Keep those things away from me," I said, standing up. "They're evil."

"All weapons are evil for their purpose is to end that which is most precious," Zorya said. "However, sometimes, oftentimes, it is necessary to do some evil to achieve a great good."

"Not exactly a Tolkein-esque sentiment," I said.

"John Ronald Reul was a devout Catholic writing about pagan influenced cultures," Zorya said. "As such, there's a few wires crossed in his books' morality. Here there is the White Light of Order, the Grey Twilight of Balance, and the Black Darkness of Chaos. All three are necessary for survival. What is good and evil among them depend greatly on the situation as well as one's own values. What is one man's good is another man's evil and what heals one may often destroy another."

I wasn't sure how I felt about alignment being an in-universe thing, but I suppose we'd crossed that bridge a while ago. "I haven't been feeling particularly balanced, lately."

"You have tasted of the darkness' pleasures," Zorya said, approaching me in a way that was very enticing. Lots of hip sashaying as she moved. Unfortunately, my attention kept going back to the swords and it shook me out of any amorous feeling.

"Yeah," I said. "I don't need any more of that."

Zorya shook her head. "If there is any word on your character that needs to be spoken, it is the fact that when you did, you recoiled from it."

"I still want it," I said, thinking about how good it was to feel like I was an unstoppable badass.

"And yet you are willing to put aside the swords," Zorya said, a few inches from my face. "Is that a good thing or a bad thing? Do we need a gentle soul, or do we need a warrior?"

I didn't have an answer to that. Actually, I did, I just didn't think she'd like that answer. "I think the murderhobos trying to solve everything with violence haven't really been covering themselves in glory."

Zorya raised an eyebrow. "Murderhobos."

"Someone commented the typical hero in fantasy stories is a wandering vagabond who murders people along the way," I said, trying not to be caught up in her beauty. She smelled like flowers even amidst all this sulfur.

"I prefer to call them knight errants," Zorya said, throwing the swords into the dirt, the blades embedding themselves in the dirt upright, before kissing me.

I pulled back after a second. "Um, listen, I really like you aside from some questions of whether you're my great aunt or not--"

"I've slept with all of my siblings," Zorya said.

"Right," I said, pausing. "It's just Ania finally admitted she wants to be in a relationship, I think and--"

"Do you think she'd care?" Zorya asked.

I paused. "No, but I might."

Zorya chuckled. "Do you know what I did to the last man who refused my advances?"

"Respected consent and didn't take it personally?" I asked.

"He's now a dog who solves riddles," Zorya said.

I blinked. "Ah."

Zorya kissed me again and I became aroused despite myself. "I'll ask again when you've had time to think that though. Perhaps we'll invite your partner and this time not as a sarcastic joke."

I was uncomfortable here. "Right, uhm, so, we're here to train?"

Yeah, I wasn't going to be able to resist long.

If at all.

Zorya took a step back. "I shall not play the Calypso to your Odysseus, do not worry. Besides, I've already gotten what I needed from you."

"You do?" I asked, wondering what that is.

Zorya conjured a magical staff that was tipped with a dragon around a jewel. "Yes. We do not have much time before the Fire Demon returns."

"She's here?" I asked, looking around.

Zorya lowered her head. "You really haven't figured out. How is such an incredibly smart man so incredibly dumb?"

"I'm going to try not to take that as an insult."

"Why? I'm insulting you."

Dammit. Jon was right. I was more attracted to women who insulted me. "What do you mean?"

Zorya sighed. "I am the Fire Demon. I am training you to kill me."