A runner came from the palace to summon Guard Commander Marindore, the giant in armor, ending the discussion between him and Headmaster Ainsley, the wizard who considered locked doors more of a suggestion. Based on the message, which no one cared to share with Silas aside from certain significant looks intensifying, Ainsley agreed to shelve the discussion as long as he and Silas came along, which seemed to please Marindore from the way he stood straighter, as he won their argument.

Eve began floating helpful name tags over people's heads, once her grasp on the structure of their language reached the point of usefulness, though her dictionary for the dialect required more data to be truly useful, data Ai continued to provide by repeating random conversations in her dull monotone voice as they passed people on the streets, earning their passing group more than a few odd glances.

Silas considered the argument between the guard commander and the headmaster as they traversed the paved stone streets of The Gray Depths, apparently the name of the city, or kingdom. Eve claimed a 77.7778% chance it was both. He told her to stop making up numbers.

Beyond the small courtyard of the jailhouse ran a busy thoroughfare which they had no trouble navigating, riding a wagon pulled by some kind of four legged mammal, almost like a bear but fatter, more like a bear-sized guinea pig with short tan fur. With the giant commander at the front driving the wagon, people seemed to know to get out of the way, allowing them to travel at a pace just above that of the regular foot traffic, as there seemed to be no dedicated lane for cart traffic. They passed storefronts selling various goods, useful signage above the doors or on the front-facing walls of the building depicting their goods, most using painted stone, wooden, or even metal reliefs, while others relied on signage more like billboards with short phrases painted across their walls to attract customers.

The people going about their day were much like Silas had seen in his previous walk through the city, an assortment of humanoid people, many with animal features of some variety, some with fantasy hair, eye, and-or skin colors, and others who appeared like perfectly normal humans. Darker skin tones prevailed among the "normal" folk, caramel and coffee shades versus his ivory white, but people came in such a rainbow of looks he hardly stood out, he felt. No, between Eve and Ai, they made sure he knew people seemed hyper-focused on the fact he wore pajamas fashioned to make him look like the angry, transformed green state of a certain mild-mannered genius who got blasted with gamma radiation during an experiment gone wrong. Some got quite upset he would dare to wear an orc costume, and thought that was why he was being carted off to the castle by the guard commander.

He did his best to ignore the haters.

From the earlier argument, he gathered there were old sayings about summoned Heroes, as none had been seen for quite some time. Two sayings were of particular concern. Or possibly one, and people had flipped the saying at some point during the age when the last summoned Hero walked upon Rimsa, their name for this world, literally translated as Mother Earth Deity. Tella or Terra Mater, if translated to Latin. Gaia, in Greek. Prithvi Mata, in Hindi. Jord, in Norse—yet, Norse being Norse, they chose to name their planet Midgard and had a bunch of different goddesses who were all considered Earth deities, with their names all sounding different yet meaning 'Earth' just the same.

Or in pure English, by the same linguistic path which led most people of Earth to call Earth, Earth, the name the locals called their planet was Earth.

Silas agreed with Eve to call the world Rimsa, keeping it in the local language, to avoid confusion.

As for the topic he'd rather avoid: Heroes seek Trouble. Trouble seeks Heroes. Two sayings which both agreed Heroes and Trouble came as a matched set.

And he was supposed to be one of these Heroes. This led to unfortunate conclusions, because Silas knew he didn't seek Trouble.

Among modern Rimsan historians, which one of the two followed the other seemed to be the point of contention, as their records from those times were vague, but they all agreed Heroes and Trouble, with a capital T (but not the fun kind that rhymes with P which stands for Pool), went hand in hand.

Truly, the idle brain is a devil's playground.

Headmaster Ainsley was firmly in the "why risk it" camp, feeling he and others didn't need some foreign child's help to deal with any possible Trouble, not when Silas's mere presence might act as a beacon, constantly drawing in more Trouble.

The giant Guard Commander took a simpler stance: It was the King's place to decide, not the Headmaster's, for if Trouble came to the city and no Hero was there to face it, the consequences might be dire. Could the Headmaster guarantee he and his circle of magicians would defeat any foe? Of course not. They couldn't even reach the deepest depths of the local dungeon.

Silas was of the position he deserved some peace and quiet, but no one seemed interested in his opinion. "I could set this place on fire," he comforted himself.

"No computerised payroll accounts here to skim money from," countered Eve.

"Thanks to those cheese loving rats, I have no need for complicated money making schemes."

"I fear your mind may have cracked, and this will remain my hypothesis until I see some of these cheese-purchasing rats for myself."

"I wonder if I started dropping bits of cheese off the wagon, would they come save me?"

"We could just leave, I suspect. They seem to have a healthy fear of Heroes. Need to study their history books, when we have the chance."

"Maybe. Probably better to just deal with this. If they want me gone I can go, time on a ship might be fun, and if the King wants me to stay, maybe he'll give me a room somewhere? Or lock me in the top of a tower? That would be nice and quiet."

They crossed through some kind of guarded checkpoint, leaving what seemed a trade district and entering a district for wealthy estates, each one a miniature castle far back from the street with acres of greenery and gardens in between. The dense groves on some plots might have hid mansions, or they might have just been plots set aside to grow trees.

Here and there, workers tended to the vast yards, some clipping and gathering various plant matter, others watering, directing a stream of water from a well to spray out over a large section of crops.

The headmaster, seeing Silas watching, entered teacher mode and began to describe the area.

Silas still couldn't understand the man, but now Eve dubbed over his voice, isolating and muting the sound his words produced and replacing them with synthesized English audio using the man's own vocal patterns. So Silas could 'hear' the man speak English, though he still saw the man's mouth forming different sounds. Eve offered to replace the lip movements with something seeming more natural, saying it was an easy fix to hijack signals from his optic nerve, as she was already tapped in to supply her own layer of information, but Silas kindly rejected the offer.

Ai continued to translate in the background, but Eve just made it so he couldn't hear her droning voice.

"Everything grown in the inner district must be edible, not just something pretty to look at," Ainsley explained. "Arable land is too valuable to waste within our walls, even if we do get most of our meat from the dungeon, and fabrics. Fruit, vegetables, cereals, medicinal and cooking herbs and spices, nuts, and legumes all have their place here. We don't get much rain in winter, so a fair amount of effort goes into keeping the crops well watered."

Silas considered this. "What about fish? This is a port, right?"

"We get trade from those who cross the sea and travel up river. As for fishing, not here. The waters are too deep, and what is down there is more likely to drag down a ship than let itself be dragged up. No life swims through river waters, as they flow straight from The Gray Depths. If you ever must drink straight from the river, mix in a thimble of either your urine or sea water. Otherwise it's too pure and can cause trouble in the body."

"I'll keep that in mind, thanks," he said dryly. "I thought The Gray Depths was the city? Or the kingdom?"

"This city-state shares its name with the dungeon, The Gray Depths."

"Hah!" added Eve.

"That seems confusing."

The old man shrugged. "The dungeon was here first. The city grew up around it. Generations ago it was a haven for pirates and slavers who took advantage of those who would delve into the dungeon in this remote place, but that was a different time. Then the Pirate Council established an actual government, and they ran things fine for a time, but as the old pirates died and their spoiled children took over, well. Let's just say there was a purge, and the waters of The Gray Depths ran red for a year and a day, so the story goes. Proper law and order was established, borrowing strongly from Artean law, banning slavery and establishing every citizen's basic rights."

Silas sighed. "It's the name of the river, too?"

The old man laughed. "Blame the pirates."

"Artean?" prompted Eve.

"Artean?" asked Silas. As much as he skipped through dialog and cut-scenes just to get back to the action, he had to admit knowing this stuff would be better than not.

"Of course. Yes. Big empire far to the west. While on the same continent, it is far easier to get there by ship, going first to Port Searl of Cairon, before finding passage back north to one of the Artean ports."

"No direct ships?"

He scratched at his bushy beard. "Unfortunately, the Empire has something of a disagreement with us and our distant neighbor, Teudsindis, in the forests of the far east, in that they claim an ancestral right to control the entire continent, which is pure nonsense because they never held the entire continent, it's been pure posturing from the beginning. When this place was just a gathering of pirates they didn't care, but nowadays we are under permanent 'economic sanctions,' meaning they won't trade with us."

"If they say to control the entire continent, what is there between here and there?"

"It's all untamed wilderness. Too dangerous to cross for most. And with our walls, well, they'd have a hard time getting any shipped soldiers unloaded out in the salt marshes." He shook his head. "Not that soldiers are the real danger." After a long enough pause Silas thought the man was done speaking, he added, "This whole Hero business might be one of their plots, now I consider it. A way to seed Trouble within The Gray Depths."

On that happy note the lesson ended.

Trees laden with green fruit lined the road up to the palace.

The eager headmaster pointed them out to Silas. "In a few weeks those blood pomelo will turn a bright orange, their flesh a vibrant red. There's a specialty grown here, cultivated by crossing oranges with the ancestral pomelo. Be careful if you've never had one before, the sour taste can be quite the shock to some."

Some fantasy world fruit nonsense, it sounded like. "I'll be sure to try one."

"Those are grapefruit," helped Eve.

"Your translation just said—"

"It's what he said. Hybridized citrus fruits being what they are, it might not be completely identical to your grapefruit, but it's essentially a grapefruit."

"Essentially."

"Yup. Just like the bananas you grew up eating weren't the same type of bananas your grandparents ate."

"How so."

"Back then everyone ate Gros Michel bananas. They were sweeter and less prone to bruising when compared to what you grew up eating, the Cavendish banana. But the Gros Michel bananas got wiped out by Panama disease, so the growers had to move on to a less ideal alternative, because the Cavendish bananas happened to be resistant to Panama disease."

"You're just making that up."

"Nope, Panama disease. Wiped out the Gros Michel bananas. And it gets better. As hybrids, Cavendish bananas can't reproduce sexually."

"Now I'm thinking about banana sex."

"Sigh. Cavendish bananas reproduce by cloning, which means—"

"Now I know you're making this up."

"WHICH MEANS, they grow from cuttings taken from one of the plants, or suckers which grow out from the grown plants. Because all the Cavendish bananas have zero biodiversity, they're proving susceptible to a new strain of Panama disease. It's almost certain by the time your siblings have grandchildren, they won't have Cavendish bananas to eat. Likely it will be something similar yet different, still found under the banana sign at the supermarket."

"Why can't it be by the time I have grandchildren?"

"If you do manage to reproduce, I expect your grandchildren will learn to love blood pomelos."

Just for that, Silas felt the need for a banana, which he summoned and began to peel. When the headmaster gave him an odd look Silas offered him half, which he accepted, chewing and considering each bite before swallowing and taking the next.

White stone adorned the gleaming walls of the palace. The stone seemed mirror polished, smooth as glass. Murder holes lined the protected walkway atop the wall, a soldier waiting at each. Some called and vanished balls of various colored lights into their hands, seeming ready for any excuse to let loose.

The guard commander slowed enough to shout at the soldiers on duty at the gatehouse, ordering the gate open without bringing the wagon to a complete stop. They gave Silas and Ai curious looks, but asked no questions and signaled the inner gate to open.

Guard Commander Marindore pulled to the side of the small courtyard, beside two boys who stood waiting, both wearing uniform heavy dark green button down shirts, black canvas pants, and dirty black boots.

"See that she is watered and fed," he ordered as he hopped from the wagon seat, as did the headmaster. Silas gingerly followed, as did Ai.

Looking up, Silas inspected the palace fortress. Mostly what one would expect from a castle fortress, a block of a building with four corner towers as part of a central keep, not unlike the famous Tower of London.

"Right this way, Sirs, Mistress," came a voice.

Silas found the two important men waiting on him, with a soldier in black and green leather armor gesturing for them to come inside. The soldier had the dark, furry face and whiskers of a black cat, or maybe a panther from the way his yellow feline eyes made Silas shiver as the man looked his way.

The group started inside with Guard Commander Marindore in the front, followed Headmaster Ainsley, then Silas and Ai side by side, with the feline soldier at the rear.

They walked down a short hall lined with ornate, embroidered tapestries and a few paintings of scenes from the ocean, men on boats fighting tentacles coming from below, and the like, plus a few items of obvious importance on pedestals and covered with domed glass. To Silas they didn't look like much, a few colored rocks, some of which glowed. One notable pedestal contained a pearl as big as Silas's head. At least he thought it was a pearl.

Some hallways branched off but they continued straight to an open pair of giant double doors.

The Guard Commander paused at the entrance as a guy holding a long staff banged it against the ground, sending out a blast of sound strong enough to force Silas half a step back.

"ANNOUNCING, HIS HIGHNESS, GUARD COMMANDER MARINDORE, SEVENTH PRINCE OF THE REALM. HEADMASTER AINSLEY OF THE GRAY DEPTHS ACADEMY OF MAGICAL STUDIES, and…" He paused, glancing up and down at Silas, then at Marindore, the not-exactly-a-surprise prince. He continued after Marindore nodded. "AND SILAS, SUMMONED HERO, PLUS ATTENDANT."

After a pause, a hearty man's laugh rang out from inside the chamber. "You found one too, brother!? Surely the gods smile down upon our family! The one I found bested the entire dungeon, reaching the bottom floor and destroying the final boss in a mere ten days. What great feats has your Hero accomplished?"

Beyond the open doors, he could now see an entire hall of people gathered, each and every one looking his way.

Silas's mind went blank. Quick! What had he done lately to earn himself some bragging rights? Quick! "I, uh. I sold cheese to some rats."