Chapter Text
The Art of the Compromise
The world caught fire. He didn’t remember how. He was halfway from anywhere that felt familiar. He had passed out three times in one day from dehydration. There was no reason for him to feel this sick. He was drinking water, where he could find it. He stared at his reflection in a small pond and couldn’t remember his name… A woman with blue-tone skin marched along not too far from him, but he couldn’t bring himself to speak.
Everything faded to black. “Jimmy? Jim?” A chorus of voices rang out in concern. He found himself unable to speak but finding comfort in the name. He was saying things, he felt his lips moving. He must have been dreaming. He wished the other place was the dream. He couldn’t see anymore. All he could feel was the sand around him, yet no sounds of the calming ocean, though he could no longer remember why it calmed him or what the ocean looked like.
“Wake up!”
Jimmy sat straight up, blonde hair covered in red sand, his skin burned and baked. He looked around expectantly but no one was there.
“When did I get to a mesa?” His voice came out coarse and broken. “I don’t remember this…”
In truth, he didn’t remember anything. He wandered toward a cave entrance for cover, happily discovering a mine shaft. He rummaged in whatever scraps were left in his pack, praying to gods he couldn’t recall that he had a pickaxe. Stumbling through the dark halls, he traced the sand and stone walls, almost running directly into the chest on the tracks.
Greedily he broke the lock on the chest and smiled as it creaked open. “Golden apple… Gold. Okay. Tracks, I’ll leave tho-”
He looked down at a dusty, heavy-duty felt hat. He ran his thumb over the embroidered label: Sheriff’s Hat. Almost in an instant, it sat on top his head; he pulled a small hand mirror out his pocket and admired how he looked. His gaze fell off himself and onto the mirror for a moment, covered in seashells and silver waves. Quickly he pocketed and headed out toward the sunlight.
A goblin man sat atop the mesa waiting for him to come out. “Hey, Sheriff?”
“Yeah?” He asked without blinking, knowing exactly who was talking to him… and that he was being talked to.
“Did you go to the End already?”
Jimmy shook his head. “You think I have time for that? I have a town to maintain.”
“Okay. Do you want to come with me and some of the others? Someone already opened the portal and it could be a trap.”
Jimmy chuckled and patted the iron sword that was now on his hip. “Course I do, fWhip.”
fWhip led the way to the End portal. The Sheriff stared at the woman with long pink curls in front of him. She stared back unblinking, only turning away when he gave her a smile. The Mayor of Animalia, his brain filled in the blank. He scratched the back of his neck, the sand caked to his skin rubbing loose. Something was off about her and he was going to find out what it was.
They left the End with no clue what happened and he landed next to the Mayor. He started the slow hike back toward his mesa, fidgeting with his sword, itching to remember how he got it because it wasn’t with him before and he hadn’t spent that much time mining. Each night from then on he paced Tumble Town trying to recall where he knew these people from. He hadn’t been a traveled man, not that he can recall. He shouldn’t know all their names or their faces. He shouldn’t feel a longing toward the thief of Chromia. He was born and raised in Tumble Town. He shouldn’t yearn for the oceans and swamps. He sat in his office, petting Norman, resisting the urge to tear the entire town down and burn it to the ground.