Chapter Text
We start our story in the hot, bone-dry mesa, where the rising sun sent watercolor ripples of red and pink through the sky, and was already beginning to beat down on the unsuspecting town, along with all the residents that lived in it. Our story starts there, because all good stories have to start somewhere, and with the moon vanishing behind the rays of dawn, it was far too perfect of a picture to not begin here.
It was the wee hours of the morning, before the roosters even began to crow from their coops.
Just as they were nestled in their nests, the townsfolk were nestled in their beds, heads rested on gingham print pillowcases, wrapped snugly in puffy quilts. Despite the heat of daytime, the night found itself to be quite chilly, thus mounds of blankets tucked away in linen closets or folded across the foot of the bed.
A layer of morning mist had settled low and rolled across the silt, sand, and clay, engulfing everywhere from the jail to the saloon in a fine fog. That was the case with every late autumn morning, and would continue well into the winter. It was much preferable to the frost that the rest of the server was forced to endure, that was for sure.
The weekend might have been just around the corner, but the people of this quaint, quiet little town in the heart of the bowl still had responsibilities that had to be tended to once nature’s alarm clock stirred them from their slumber. Those who found themselves awake already grumbled at their loss of sleep, begging for just five more clicks of rest before they had to be properly up and at ‘em.
Cows had to be milked, crops had to be plowed, laundry had to be hung on the line- everyone had their own list of tasks that needed to be done, so sleeping the morning away was sadly not an option, no matter how cozy they were.
As if on cue, the first rooster ruffled its feathers, poked its head out of its pen. The pen was a perfectly ordinary one with chipped red paint, a faded yellow painted roof, and wire that needed to be replaced, which was on the list of chores that just kept getting pushed back. The trough needed to be filled with seeds and corn to keep the whole flock happy, or there would be anarchy.
This unassuming chicken pen, where the rooster called home, was right next to another home. One that was much too large for any rooster, cow, pig, or mule that was kept in the farms scattered around their own little corner of earth- their home on the range.
No, this three-story ranch house belonged to a family of fifteen, so to a rooster, it might as well be a palace. Even if by all accounts, it was as normal as the rest of the ranch houses scattered across the swaths of red sand.
It had a welcome mat rolled out on the front porch along with a porch swing, rocking chair, and wicker side table where a glass of iced tea had been forgotten overnight. It had a vegetable garden sprouting in the backyard, green beans, bell peppers, and spinach ready to be harvested and cooked up for dinner. It, of course, had a sunflower painted on the front door, the paint having faded with time, but still brought a splash of color to the otherwise plain door.
Leading up to the front door was a path of rocky cobblestone embedded in the red silt and sand, the stones covered in scribbles of chalk from the day prior. Clumps of weeds that sprouted from them were left undisturbed, the wildflowers swaying back and forth in the breeze.
Like every other house, every other building in fact, it was constructed entirely out of wood that had been chopped, stripped, and crafted by the bare, calloused hands of those who resided inside its walls. Every log that was tossed in the fireplace and used for the beams holding the whole thing up had been added with nothing short of devotion for the family that lived there. You could see where nails had been hammered in years ago, coats of varnish being added regularly to keep the rot away.
From the outside, it was a house like any other.
COCK-A-DOODLE-DOO.
The rooster had finally decided it was time to wake the whole of the mesa with its morning call. And once got started, it wasn’t long before a whole choir of them rang pierced through the silent spell that had been cast over the town, letting everyone know that it was time to wake up.
COCK-A-DOODLE-DOO.
It was the same routine every day. One rooster would start the call, and then the rest would get all riled up, only ceasing their incessant caws when someone trudged over to their coop to feed them, and allowing the people of the good town to continue their mornings in peace. No one wanted to sip their coffee or take a hot shower when there was such a ruckus.
COCK-A-DOODLE-DOO.
Everyone knew what the point of the rooster call was. It was to wake everyone up, and obviously if the critters didn’t do such a good job of it, then no one would bother keeping them around any longer than they had to before they could turn it into a roasted dinner. No, these creatures served their purpose and served it well.
For the most part.
Because it was the job of one soul in Tumble Town to be up long before the roosters.
It was the duty of the sheriff to be awake, showered, and dressed before anyone in the ranch house, the roosters, or on some days, the sun was up.
There was a frantic pace to his day-to-day routine as he floundered around his family home as quiet as a field mouse, hoping he wouldn’t disturb his resting siblings, niblings, or parents with the running water and the pitter patter of his footsteps. The only time he allowed himself to relax was behind the door of his own bedroom, his window overlooking the whole of the town.
Some might think that as the sheriff, it was a little odd for him to still be living with his family, especially when they were so large, practically piled onto one another like sardines. But in all honesty, it put him at ease knowing that he was always close by in case- Saint forbid- anything were to ever go wrong. He wouldn’t have to leap onto horseback, or travel through the railroad tunnels just to make it in time, and that thought was enough to stop him from construction of his own ranch house, no matter how many times it was offered to him by well-meaning townsfolk.
No, Jimmy Solidarity was perfectly content right where he was.
He stared at him at the mirror propped up against the wall and tilted his head from side to side. He ran his fingers across the stubble that shadowed his chin and bit the inside of his cheek as he debated whether or not it was worth the time and effort it would take to shave it off. He had hoped growing out his facial hair would give him a much more rugged ‘devil may care’ look, but so far, all it had accomplished was getting his cheeks pinched by the barmaid.
The green kerchief tied around his neck had already been fiddled with more times than he cared to admit, but only because it sat awkwardly on his wrinkled collar. He had decided to forgo his usual vest, as with the chores he had today, he didn’t want to scuff it up too much, which was also why the jeans he had on were old and patched in the knees.
Half of Jimmy’s morning routine always seemed to be taken up by fiddling with his appearance. Brushing out his shoulder length blonde hair and tying it in a ponytail, pressing earrings into his rabbit ears, choosing with belt to put his pistol and hunting knife into-
He was well aware he wasn’t going to be in any fashion shows anytime soon, and that no one in Tumble Town gave a singular hoot what he looked like. But he had been taught that if you presented yourself with respect, then you’d be given respect back.
Jimmy could use all the respect he could get.
The final additions to his ensemble of the day were the most important.
His hat, which sat atop of his head.
And his shiny, golden sheriff’s badge, that was pinned right above his heart.
He smiled at himself in the mirror, showing off the gap tooth he inherited from his mother, and shared with both his older and younger sister. So far none of his niblings thus far had gotten the trait, but there was still a chance, if his older brother decided to have a second child. Of course that would mean they’d have to expand the house, and-
Not wanting to deal with that logistical headache right now, he sat back down on the edge of his bed and stared down at his socks.
Both had been recently darned, reminding him that he needed to swing by Glimmer Grove for more thread for his ma’s sewing kit. And that reminded him that the laundry that had been left out overnight needed to be brought inside, and the next load had to be hung up. And that reminded him of-
You got the picture.
The life of a sheriff wasn’t an easy one. No one said it would be.
If it was, then Jimmy never would’ve wanted the position in the first place.
A knock on his door startled him from his thoughts.
“James, have you taken your shower yet?” The voice of one of his sister’s interrupted him before he could properly begin to spiral under the weight of his responsibilities.
“Uh- yeah Jill, it’s all yours.”
“Thank you.”
He waited for her footsteps to fade away before letting out the breath he didn’t even realize he had been holding. He placed his hand right onto his badge, where he could feel his heart racing.
“You calm down now, Jim.” He muttered, voice in a low drawl. “It ain’t that serious. It ain’t nothin’ you can’t handle.”
With each deep breath he took, he was able to forget his worries for a fleeting moment, as the smell of freshly brewed coffee, biscuits, and eggs wafted up from the kitchen downstairs.
He pushed the pang of guilt that his parents were going through the trouble of a full breakfast aside and paid more attention to the rumble of his stomach. He hadn’t had a chance to eat dinner with his family the night before, having gone straight to his bedroom, falling asleep on top of the duvet with all his clothes still on. He could only assume that his ma had tucked him in, judging by the fact that he woke up with the covers up to his chin and in a fresh t-shirt.
Jimmy had wanted to thank her for that by preparing her usual toast slathered with butter and baked sweet potato, but it seemed, by the sound of the humming that also made its way upstairs, his pa had beat him to it.
Which was fine! He knew how much his pa loved being in the kitchen, and it sounded like he was happy singing along to his favorite songs on the radio, voice just low enough that it wouldn’t wake any of the youngin’s. His pa was considerate like that.
The sound of running water filled the house, and it seemed with both his parents awake and his siblings beginning to stir, that it was no use brooding in his room any longer- not with such a long list of things that needed doing.
Something always needed doing in Tumble Town, but it could all wait a measly hour so he could enjoy breakfast with his folks.
He slowly made his way out of his bedroom, leaving the door open behind him. He looked to his left, and to his right, and when he saw it was only Jillian’s door that was wide open, he peeked over the railing of the upper balcony and down into the lounge.
A smile graced his face at the sight of his two cats- Norman, who normally hung around the jailhouse, and Flick, the former barn cat- snuggled up with their old sheepdog-Lassie- on the couch. They were surrounded by embroidered throw pillows and crocheted blankets, sound asleep, just like the rest of the house seemed to be.
He continued his descent down the staircase, and hoped that his footsteps on the final, creaky step, didn’t disturb them.
“Which one of y’all is that?”
“It’s me, ma.” Jimmy said as he shuffled into the kitchen with a yawn. “Mornin’. Mornin’ pa.”
“Mornin’ junior.” His father said, looking away from the stove and over his shoulder to smile at his son. “Thought we lost ya to the world of the dead.”
“Ha ha.” Jimmy fondly rolled his eyes as he reached for his mug from the cupboard, the one he had sculpted himself as a child, and was surprised it had lasted him this far into his twenties. “Y’all know what to do with me if I die, just toss me in a gorge.”
“Junior!”
“I’m only jokin’ ma!”
“I’d sure hope so!”
Jimmy smiled at his ma as he poured his coffee.
His mother, Meredith Solidarity, was a short, plump, and stocky woman, with a farmer's tan from years of working under the sun, freckles dotting her shoulders and across her nose, and strawberry blonde hair with wisps of gray done in an updo. Her brown eyes were hidden behind golden spectacles that rested on top of her head.
She, like Jimmy, was already dressed for the day, waiting for her breakfast with her latest knitting project sitting on her lap.
His father and his namesake, James Solidarity, was quite the opposite of his wife. All of his children had gotten his tall genes, and most of them his dirty blonde hair. His green eyes had been aged by years of wisdom like a fine wine, and the scars across his hands and arms all told a myriad of stories that were often shared over an open bonfire.
They weren’t just the opposite in looks, but in their personalities as well. Meredith was brash, outspoken, and opinionated, while James had a level head, and much preferred words over fists. While she had to be doing something to keep herself occupied, James was fine relaxing in the kitchen, which was why he cooked all of the family’s meals.
The fact they were so different, in Jimmy’s opinion, was the reason they were so perfect together.
He sat at the table across from her, and slowly sipped his coffee as she did her tea.
“How’d you sleep, hon?” She asked, her voice gentle and warm.
“Like pa said, like the dead.” He couldn’t help but chuckle. “Thought I was about to see the Saints themselves.”
“Wouldn’t be surprised if ya did. Couldn’t wake you for the life of me.”
“‘m sorry, ma. And ‘m sorry you had to-”
“You hush, I didn’t do nothin’ I didn’t already wanna do.” She said with a sip of tea.
“Still…thank you.”
“Of course, dear.”
James set a plate of biscuits slathered with warm, melting butter, with a heaping helping of sunny side up eggs on the side, and said, “So what’s on the agenda for today?”
Jimmy groaned and ran a hand down his face before he reached for his fork to merely poke at the jiggling yolk. “What ain't on the agenda? I’m gon’ spend my whole day bouncin’ ‘round Empires like a junebug in heat an’-”
His face fell, seeing his mother’s pinched brow staring straight across at him.
“‘M sorry ma.” He sighed and hung his head. “Didn’t mean to complain none.”
“You don’t gotta apologize for nothin’.” She said. “I just wish you had more hands around to help ya out.”
“Whatever happened to that fWhip fella?” James asked, prepping Meredith’s plate, and taking the time to refill her half empty cup of tea. “Surely he could lend a paw or two out with somethin’ small- erm, no pun intended there. We got horses that need feedin’ and crops that need-”
Jimmy scowled at the mention of his former deputy’s name, and shoved his fork deep into his eggs, sending a spurt of yellow yolk across the plate like a geyser. “That good for nothin’, two-bit, disrespectful-” His foot thumped angrily, his knees rattling the table.
“Junior.”
He flushed in embarrassment and placed his free hand on his knee. “Sorry pa. Just- oh, he gets me so darn worked up! I ain’t NEVER met a more disrespectful goblin in my whole life! Granted I-I haven’t met a load of goblins, but the one that I have met, oh, I’m sure he’s the most rotten of the bunch!”
A hand suddenly reached behind Jimmy to tousle up his hair, his hand fluttering onto the ground. “Aw, that’s no way to talk about your ex.”
His cheeks turned pink as he glared up as his older brother. “OI! You watch the hat!” He leaned down, dusted his hat off, and set it back on his head.
“Xander, you know not to get your brother worked up.” James said, reaching across the table to flick his eldest son in the forehead, chuckling when he scowled. “He’s sensitive.”
“I am NOT SENSITIVE!”
“Ya might ‘not’ be sensitive-” Xander poured himself a steaming cup of coffee. “But you’re sure as hell loud. Gon’ wake everyone from here to Sanctuary with caterwaulin’ ‘a yours.”
“I should have you locked up, disrespecting the sheriff like this! In his own home!”
“But it ain’t your home. It’s ma’s home. Right ma?”
Meredith rubbed at her temples with one hand, the other reaching out to take her tea from her husband. “It’s too early to deal with either one of y’all- ‘specially when you’re squabblin’ like children.” She said.
“But ma! The law!”
“Law don’t say nothin’ ‘bout bustin’ chops.” Xander said with a smirk, watching Jimmy steadily turn darker shades of red, his hand shaking so much he almost bent the fork in his grasp.
“Would you boys both hush up an’ just eat your breakfast?”
“But-!”
Meredith glared at both of them over the brim of her mug, and that seemed to be the end of that.
"Yes ma'am, sorry ma'am."
Jimmy was left more picking at his plate than eating it, suddenly finding that his appetite for his father’s home cooking was depleted- though whether that be from having his ex brought up at the breakfast table, or having his own brother tease and taunt him, he couldn't tell. He set his fork down in favor of picking up his biscuit-
“Yoink!”
“EXCUSE ME?”
“You’re excused!” The youngest of the Solidarity’s- Caleb- snickered as he took a massive bite out of the side of the pastry, and made an exaggerated yummy noise. “Mmmm! Pa, this has got to be your best batch of biscuits yet. I mean it. Ain’t never tasted anything like it in my-”
“You give me that back!” Jimmy scrambled from his seat and reached to grab at his brother’s mass of strawberry-blonde curls.
Caleb was far too quick for him to catch- dashing around the kitchen table in a circle and ducking underneath to crouch besides his mother’s legs. He howled with delighted laughter, and shoved the biscuit completely into his mouth like a starving ravager.
“Unbelievable!” Jimmy threw his arms up in the air. “You’re lucky I don’t march your keester over to the jailhouse for that!”
“Junior, you can’t threaten your own brothers with jail time just for a bit of teasin’.”
“I can sure as hell try!”
With a roll of his eyes, James picked another biscuit from the platter on the counter- just as warm, just as gooey, and just as covered in butter as the last- and handed it to Jimmy with his brows raised. As if to say, ‘don’t go making a big deal out of nothing’ with nothing but his soft green eyes.
It was only when he accepted the peace offering with a resigned sigh that he went back to making eggs on the stovetop, the smell mixed with the ruckus finally waking the rest of the house.
‘So much for a peaceful morning’, Jimmy thought to himself, palm pressed against his crumb smeared cheek.
Though he couldn’t find it in him to be bitter.
A gentle smile spread across his face as his half-asleep sister-in-law carrying his still asleep three-year-old nibling in her arms appeared around the bend of the wall. She was still yawning, her hair up in a bonnet and bathrobe tied tightly around herself, but she still managed a smile and a good morning to everyone, receiving a kiss on the cheek back from Xander.
“Mornin’ Sharon.” Jimmy greeted politely.
“G’morning sheriff.” She yawned.
“Aw, c’mon, we’re family. Ya don’t gotta keep callin’ me sheriff.”
“Sorry.” She said, her Chromia accent thick. She cleared the last remnants of sleep from her throat and said, “Sorry if Tiara woke you last night.”
“Couldn’t hear a peep outta ‘em.” He said honestly. “No need to ‘pologize.”
She just gave him a tired smile back, and leaned her chin against her sleeping child’s head. “I just hope they ain’t sick again.” She muttered under her breath.
Jimmy frowned, and reached his hand over the table for her to take. “I’m sure they’re fine, hon. And if they ain’t, I’ll take ‘em to the best healers we got ‘round here.”
“Let’s hope it don’t come to that.” Xander said, sitting beside his wife and child. He reached his hand over to hold Sharon’s, so she pulled away from Jimmy’s with the flash of an apologetic smile.
The soft-spoken conversation eventually changed from worrying about poor little Tiara, to whatever the hottest gossip was. Most newspapers didn’t deliver so far into the ‘sticks’ of Empires, so it was up to the rumor mill to make sure anyone in Tumble Town knew what was going on in the rest of the world.
He tried to act like he was above it, of course. He was the sheriff after all! What would people say if they knew such a respectable man indulged in gossip, even if it was just in the confines of his own home?
But despite resisting temptation as hard as he could, even he had to perk his ears up when the names of his fellow Emperors were swapped around.
“That False fella- she’s a weird one, ain’t they?” Xander asked.
“Xander! Mind your manners!”
He held his hands up in defense from Meredith’s glare. “I’m just sayin’! Only ever had one conversation with ‘em, and I gotta say, she’s even stranger than Oli.”
“The bard?” Caleb asked. “He ain’t strange!”
“He’s a few ravagers short of a raid is all I’m sayin’.”
Jimmy couldn’t help but snicker. Well, he wasn’t wrong!
He couldn’t deny that out of all the Emperors he found himself amongst- two princesses, a goblin, a pirate, a witch, and a mayor, all as examples- he seemed to be the most ‘normal’ out of the bunch. He came from a normal home, with a normal family, and was completely normal until his election and then coordination as Sheriff. He wasn’t born into royalty like Katherine, and he didn’t demand power like- ugh- Joel. There was no tragic backstory, no predetermined destiny like in the stories of the gods and warriors of old.
He was just…Jimmy.
He was only just beginning to grow used to the builders' magic connected to the land that surged through his fingertips, and it had been almost five years since that day. He liked to think he was the same man, but if his own sister-in-law still called him ‘sheriff’ before his own name, then-
For once, he was glad to have his thoughts interrupted by a pair of yawns behind him. He chuckled as he looked over his shoulder, and said with a teasing smirk, “Nice of y’all to join us.”
Twin sisters Heather and Ruby, the youngest girls of the Solidarity siblings, stood in the kitchen in a state of bed head and wrinkled night dresses, Heather with her glasses askew and Ruby still wrapped in her blanket.
“Edith didn’t hafta wake us up.” Ruby rubbed her eyes, grunting about her oldest sibling. “We’re on break. We don’t gotta be at school!”
“That don’t mean you get to skip out on your chores, young lady.” Meredith sat up from the table, and pressed a kiss to both their heads. “Y’all enjoy your breakfast, I’m gon’ go freshen up.”
Heather grumbled something when she was kissed, but still shuffled over to where her mother had been sitting and plopped down, resting her head in her arms. She looked exhausted- more so than Jimmy or Sharon did- and perked up with visible delight seeing James reach for her mug in the cupboard.
“Thank you, pa.”
“Course, sweetheart.” He said. “What were y’all up to that you’re so tuckered out?”
“Just walkin’ ‘round.” Ruby said, her yawns becoming contagious around the table.
“At night?!” Jimmy’s eyes suddenly widened as he nearly leapt from his seat like a cat whose tail had been stepped on, the china and mugs rattling with his outburst. “Y’all know how dangerous it is to be wanderin’ at night!”
Ruby rolled her eyes. “The Tumble Town Boys are a loud ‘a hot air.”
“Did they see you at all?!”
“Yeah, an’ I gave ‘em a piece of my mind!”
The Tumble Town Boys- a gang of bandits that had taken up residency in the mines- had once been residents of their town, just like everyone else. It wasn’t at all surprising to see them lingering on the outskirts of town when the whole sky was illuminated by a blanket of bright, blinking stars, but the surprise itself was never pleasant. It was one of Jimmy’ greatest failings as a sheriff that none of them had wound up behind bars yet, even if he wasn’t the first sheriff whose capture they eluded, and he certainly wouldn’t be the last.
Still, he thought his siblings all knew better than to steer clear of no good, foul mouthed, dangerous and dirty bandits.
The word itself felt so sour on his tongue that his appetite had depleted completely, and he saw no need to linger around watching everyone else eat. Not when he had a mountain of chores that he had to be doing instead.
“I should be headin’ off.” He said, just as his oldest sibling Edith walked hand in hand with her wife, and his other sister-in-law, Jade. Surprisingly, none of their three kids- all triplets with jet black hair like their mama Jade- toddled behind them, and he figured they were all still sleeping. He must have been the only one unaffected by Tiara’s midnight wailing, as he had been sound asleep long before then.
“So soon?” Edith asked.
“Sorry sis, but duty calls.” He adjusted his hat with a crooked grin.
She rolled her eyes. “Don't you go pullin’ that sheriff act with me.”
“Wouldn’t dream of it, ma’am.”
Jimmy pushed his seat into the table, and made the rounds, hugging whoever needed to be hugged, and kissing several cheeks, starting from the still asleep Tiara and ending with his pa, who squeezed his shoulder with a smile. His chest swelled with pride, feeling more energized than if he had sat and drank four whole cups of coffee.
That energy would do him good.
His itinerary was a whirlwind of menial everyday chores, meetings with other Emperors, maintenance around the town, with barely enough time to sit down for more than a moment, let alone use the bathroom or grab a bite to eat. He’d have to skip lunch again, something that he could tell his ma wouldn’t be pleased about if she knew. Between feeding every pen of livestock from chickens to pigs, to laying new tiles on the roof of the inn, to soaring halfway across the server to meet with Scott- something that he was not looking forward to in the slightest- he was lucky if he’d be home before midnight.
He wanted more than anything to have the same lazy mornings as his siblings, and when he heard them all laughing from the kitchen as he slipped on his leather cowboy boots, he bit the inside of his cheek.
‘Don’t tell me your jealous high schoolers now, James’, he thought, chastising himself in the same gentle warning tone his ma used. ‘Least you never have to do another scrap of homework again. You’re tellin’ me you’d rather be doin’ algebra than bein’ the sheriff?’
The thought alone made him chuckle, even if he did feel a pang in his chest as he crept out the front door.
The gust of fresh morning air hit his face all at once, causing a shiver down his spine.
He shut the door behind him to take a moment to linger on his porch, something that he very rarely got to do for himself, usually always ready and raring to go to the point he’d often forget his shoes and have to race back for them. This particular morning, however, he leaned against the railing and watched as the fog continued to roll up over the bowl, up onto the edges of the mesa itself, and probably spooking any lingering critters out of their hidey holes.
Just like himself and his family, there were plenty of others that had made their way up and about. He hadn’t gotten quite the headstart he usually did, but with a deep breath that soaked in the scent of a crisp morning- the coldest it’d probably get in Tumble Town. Maybe even the coldest on the server.
He could spot across the way the inn-keeper’s daughter running around outside with her dog, who raced back and forth to retrieve a bone being thrown. He’d known her since childhood, and she was always wearing the same red and white checkered print bonnet, like a picnic blanket that kept her golden hair tucked in place.
The general store had switched the sign from ‘closed’ to ‘open’, and he made a mental note to swing by and pick up a bag of flour and a gallon of molasses. He could still see charred wood where a fire had almost engulfed it last summer, and frowned, remembering how the town had struggled without somewhere to buy and trade their goods right there in the mesa.
The tavern didn’t open till late afternoon, but he could still see a few lingering drunks, waiting for their fix of beer and ale from the tap to be downed in their own flasks or tin cups that would eventually be thrown across the wall.
Yes, Jimmy’s eyes traveled all along his quaint little town, and it brought a smile to his face.
He couldn’t imagine living anywhere else- being anyone else. Not when everything here was, for the most part, kept calm and quiet. It was one of those towns where everyone knew everyone, and faces stayed the same throughout the generations. His parents were only the fourth generation to ever settle here, and that brought him a great sense of pride, knowing how close he was to his own history. The thought of his own name being in the books taught down at the schoolhouse- it made him giddy in a way he couldn’t describe.
Jimmy must have looked just as giddy as he felt, because he heard a sharp whistle from down below in the sand.
“Someone looks mighty happy.”
“Oh, not you!” He groaned.
A cocky, sharp toothed grin looked at him from on top of the donkey they were riding, and they tipped their hat in greeting, pierced hyena ears peeking out of the leather brim.
“Howdy sheriff.” They said with a teasing drawl.
“Hello, Roz.” He sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. “What do you want?”
“What makes you think I want something?”
“You bandits always want something.”
Roz rolled their eyes. “Maybe I just want to say hello to my favorite sheriff.”
“I’m your only sheriff.”
“Exactly why you’re my favorite!”
Jimmy rolled his eyes and stepped off his porch, careful not to get too close to the already ornery donkey. He had been sent flying from the donkey’s hind legs once before, and he didn’t quite feel like repeating the ordeal. A single huff was enough to send him scrambling, cheeks once again burning as he was chortled at.
“Yeah, yeah, laugh all you want!” He snapped, pulling himself back onto his feet. “One of these days you’ll learn to respect me!”
“Highly doubt that, sheriff cottontail.”
Oh, his face was three different shades of red, and his hands flew to his backside to cover the tail that poked out of his jeans. “You watch your tongue, varmint! Or I’ll tear it out an’ feed it to the pigs!”
“Aw.” They said with a smirk. “You’re cute when you try to be intimidating.”
“I-I am the sheriff of this Empire! The sheriff of this server! You WILL respect me! And DON’T call me- call me-!”
“What?” They innocently bat their eyelashes. “Is it cottontail, or cute that bothers you so much?”
“You-!” He angrily stomped his foot. “You are something else! Something that I-I don’t feel like dealing with right now! Good day, sir!”
With the tip of his hat, he left a cackling hyena on his front path, stomping away in the complete opposite direction of where he needed to go. He had meant to head to the general store, but since there was a very annoying bandit and their donkey who had a personal vendetta against him blocking his only path, he had no choice but to shuffle along through the sand towards the railway tracks.
It was fine, he told himself. He could do his chores in whatever order they wanted- he didn’t have to spend his whole day in Tumble Town. It was just peaches and cream if he wanted to go to Chromia first, greet Scott for the trade deal he had been begging for, and join him for a cup of tea. It was fine that he was leaving the confines of his Empire. It was-
Who was Jimmy fooling?
As soon as he entered the tunnel he felt ill.
He knew exactly what was going to happen as soon as he crossed the threshold of the mesa, and left his own bubble of safety for the outside world. There was a reason he hadn’t caught the Tumble Town Boys yet, and it wasn’t just because of their quick stallions and even quicker pistol work.
No.
As soon as he stepped out onto grass instead of clay, and the air turned to a brisk chill, he would be left completely exposed, like prey under the eyes of a watchful hawk, circling a forest with no trees. He couldn’t begin to explain to anyone how it felt- not to a bandit like Roz, not to his closest allies, and especially not to his family.
His poor family…
If only they knew what Joel had done to him.
He didn’t know what he did to piss the God of Stratos off so much, but lately, it felt less like he was being punished for some specific reason, and more just he was punished for being alive. His worshippers- more like cult followers in Jimmy’s eyes- might have seen him as a kind, and benevolent god, but when Jimmy walked the earth outside of Tumble Town, every step reminded him just how cruel the god could truly be.
Everywhere he went, Jimmy felt the presence of Joel, looming over him, ready to squash him underfoot. The thought of having to cower from someone he was supposed to be an equal with made him sick, and he might have, if he weren’t so focused on putting one foot in front of the other.
Why didn’t he eat just a little more breakfast? Maybe he wouldn’t be so wobbly now, when he had to pull himself together before he reached-
“Jimmy?”
Jimmy’s eyes widened and he yelped in surprise, stumbling backwards onto the edge of the concrete. He groaned as he landed on his elbows, his leg hanging off of the side and onto the train tracks.
“Oh my- jeez!” He breathed a sigh of relief, seeing it was only his new deputy. “You scared me half to death!”
“Sorry, I figured no one would be coming through here today.”
He accepted the outstretched paw and pulled himself to his feet.
“No, it’s quite alright, Sam.” He said, smiling up at the creeper in golden armor. “What’re you doing over here?”
“Working on the railroad.” He said, holding up a bucket of plaster with his bottom right hand, and a pickaxe with his bottom left. “Everyone’s been asking for it and-”
“I know, I know.” Jimmy ran a hand down his face. “It’s- it’s on my list.”
“How long of a list?”
“You have no idea, my friend.”
Sam couldn’t help but chuckle. “Then I’m glad I’ll be the one to cross this one off.”
“That’s real sweet of you, deputy.”
“Of course, Jimmy.” Both the trident hanging from his hip, and the bronze deputy’s badge glinted in the flickering light from the torches lodged in sconces lining the walls. “You’ve been busy and-”
“You know what?” Jimmy suddenly cut him off. “Why don’t I give you a hand for a bit?”
“Really?” He blinked in surprise.
“Yeah!” He said, puffing out his chest in a show of bravado. “C’mon! Let big man Jim get to work!”
Sam once again chuckled and handed him the pickaxe. “Hey, knock yourself out.”
A grin graced Jimmy’s face as he held the pickaxe in both of his hands, and got to work right away. They had to pry up the old, cracked and crumbling stone that had been laid by the first townspeople, and then lay down next layers of cement, then the wood, then the iron for the rails. There was a whole load of redstone that came next, and then the train after that, but for now, he would do his small part.
Just as he was beginning to get in the groove, however, the ground beneath his feet suddenly felt uneven, wobbly like scaffolding. He paused mid-swing, and turned to an undisturbed Sam to ask if he felt anything-
Only for a much bigger rumble to send them both to the floor.
The tunnel rapidly shook all around, sending the two rolling onto their sides, curling up to stop bits of debris from landing on them. Jimmy tried to peek out from between his fingers, and from his position on the floor, he could see right through to the other end of the tunnel, back into town.
The buildings there were shaking too, and the morning fog had turned violet, just like in the Evermoore. His eyes widened as he scrambled to sit up, even if the force of the quake tried to flatten him like a pancake.
“Jimmy!” Sam exclaimed. “What’re you-?!”
“The-the town!” He shouted back. “My family! I’ve got to get them into the storm cellars!”
He started to army crawl across the tracks, prongs of iron digging into his stomach as his shirt rode up and bunched around him. Harsh sand and stone scraped his elbows, knees, and palms, leaving him already exhausted and in need of a healing potion by the time he had made it back to the town square. He opened his mouth to shout for everyone to hit the deck, to head as quick as they could for their cellars-
But then it all stopped.
The air was quiet once again.
Jimmy could only sit up on his knees as the folks who had been sent to the ground either of their own volition or from the force of the sudden earthquake picked themselves back up, questions of ‘are you okay?’ and ‘are you hurt?’ filling the air. His mouth was completely dried as he stared at his house, which save for the glass of iced tea on the porch table being knocked over, was left completely undisturbed.
The fog had even disappeared entirely. It was no longer purple, and it no longer lingered across the mesa floor. It had vanished into thin air, leaving no trace that it had been there at all.
Once his legs no longer felt like jelly, and he didn’t feel like throwing up, he would run as quickly as he could to his house to check up on everyone. Chores be damned, Sam be damned, all of it be damned- as long as they were okay, so was he.
He swallowed a thick lump of worry, and looked up at the sky to thank the Saints. Whatever had happened, it was passed now. Everything looked only a hair out of place, and as he stood up, he could already hear people beginning to go back about their day as normal.
The sky was completely clear. Without clouds. Without blemish.
Just trillions, upon trillions of stars that hung like a protective canopy over the server.