Archive of Our Own

Chapter Text

You may see a girl with my face and tresses,

You may see one come to my mother’s door

Who may speak my words and may wear my dresses.

She will not be I, for I come no more.

I am gone, gone far, with the fairies roaming…

The Fairy Child by Lord Dunsany

Jimmy was lost. He was lost and cursing himself for not listening to Scott, Lizzie, and fWhip’s warnings when he had the chance. He should have known better than to trust the Fae. No one was nice to him unless they wanted something.

The forest he was lost in was unlike any he’d seen before. The ground was choked with ferns and mushrooms and moss. His dusty brown boots sank through moss into black mud with every step, making wet sucking sounds. The trees’ mossy trunks were a pale teal and topped with darker heart-shaped leaves. Roots twisted and looped through the soft earth, fighting the undergrowth for space and shaping a nightmare against Jimmy’s abused ankles.

 “We have a gift for you, Big Hatted Creature.” Jimmy pitched his voice up into a mocking falsetto. “We swear we aren’t going to trap you in the middle of NOWHERE!”

His shout was swallowed by the forest. Stomping around with such a ruckus, one would expect to scare off rodents and silence birds. But this forest was silent already. Here there were no birds, beasts, or insects. Not even wind. Every rustle and squelch he made through the suffocating plants reminded Jimmy he was alone.

He didn’t know how long he’d been walking; the teal canopy buried the sky. To the point that the only light in the forest emanated from white fruit nestled amid the weaving branches. He was beginning to get hungry.

There was no path. He’d tried to carve out his own path, yanking out the white mushrooms and curling ferns by the armful, but he’d no sooner tugged their roots free, then new ones were sprouting up. They grew with the speed and fervor of someone drowning surfacing for air. Or desert sand drinking up water. It looked desperate. Jimmy felt that same desperation sink into him as his attempts to mark his wanderings were foiled at every turn.

He slumped against a tree to catch his breath and tipped the Sheriff hat back so he could better inspect the unfamiliar fruit tempting him from above. There was a faint sweet smell of rot in the air that had deterred him from picking any earlier. Who knew what fed these trees’ hungry roots? 

...Maybe he would. Maybe that’s what the Fae did . They tricked too trusting sheriffs into this endless maze until they dropped from exhaustion and became fertilizer for the forest.

Jimmy pressed his palms into his eyes with heavy groan. No. It was too early to be panicking. He could still get out of this mess. His stomach panged. 

“This is fine. It’s better than being hungry.” Before he could second guess himself again, Jimmy propped a boot against the trunk and hauled himself up. 

He wedged himself onto the intersection of a lower branch and reached up to pluck one of the pear-shaped fruit. The moment the fruit separated from its stem, a bud swelled up in its place, bloomed into a vivid magenta flower, then curled around a new fruit. In moments the tree looked just as it had before. If Jimmy wasn’t holding the soft fruit in his hand, he would have thought the world was lagging. He pressed his thumbs against its fuzzy skin and held his breath, hoping he wasn’t about to tear open this fruit to find some new horror.

A shrill, questioning clatter of chimes broke the forest’s silence and his concentration.

Dropping the fruit in his haste and ignoring a twinge of pain in his ankle as he landed, Jimmy hurtled down the tree and spun about. He spotted the Fae at once; They floated effortlessly just above the undergrowth that’d hassled Jimmy all day. In Tumble Town, the Fae only communicated with Jimmy through enchanted books that read themselves aloud in that same strange chiming tongue. This was the first time Jimmy had a face to put to the creatures. 

If you could call it that. 

A smooth wooden mask, bone white, with dark eye-holes slowly turned to face him. Thick moth-like antenna unfurled from beneath the mask, framing it like magenta flower petals. The Fae looked around the size of a small goblin. Its body was concealed by a thousand fluttering, iridescent black moth wings, each layered over the other like a bird’s feathers. It formed the impression of a mass of insects impersonating a larger creature. The plants beneath them reached up, as if soaking in sunlight, ferns uncurling and mushroom caps opening.

“YOU!” Jimmy thundered loud enough to match one of Joel’s storms.

The fluttering fairy creature jerked back. Then it swerved around and darted away into the forest with a discordant jingle.

 “No! You get back here and help me! ” Jimmy bolted after them, his voice already raw from shouting.

The ferns and roots and mud all hindered his hopes of catching up, but he pressed forward. The Fae was spinning and dipping around trees, but its erratic movements only helped Jimmy find it again, rather than hide it.

The tree line broke. Jimmy stumbled to a stop to gawk. A giant tree with the same smooth teal bark as the ones in the forest towered above him. Massive roots twisted and curled into the edge of the forest, and Jimmy was reminded of Gem telling him about birch forests that were really one tree. The leaves of this other-worldly tree shined the same white glow as the forest’s fruit and a glittering night sky framed its brilliant canopy, making Jimmy feel like he was looking up into a magnificent sun. Jimmy took a deep breath and swallowed, awe sinking through him. 

Then a spot of black whipped through his peripheral and he remembered why he’d been running. The Fae glided up one of the roots like a little shadow. Jimmy scrambled up the tree after them. His arms swung out for balance and he was off, following the roots to the trunk. Without the undergrowth tripping him every other step, he started gaining ground.

The closer to the trunk, the steeper the path became. Jimmy was soon climbing hand over hand up the warped bark. The Fae hovered from side to side near the base of the trunk. Jimmy couldn’t be sure if it was hesitating as it tried to escape or mocking him, but he felt anger flush his face and renew his reckless pursuit.

“Fae! Let me out of here!” Jimmy hollered. “Now!”

The Fae chimed and swooped out of sight, into some hollow he couldn’t see yet.

Jimmy lunged. His boot slipped down the curved edge of a root and he felt his balance tip violently. With a shout, he flung his arms forward to catch himself and tried to dig his nails in, but only succeeded in tearing chunks of moss and mud from the bark. As he fell, he clapped a hand to his hat and twisted in the air to aim his crash into the canopy below. 

But the forest was gone. Pale pearlescent clouds and multicolor stars smeared around him. The Fae forest had vanished, leaving a vast spinning galaxy in its place. He couldn’t tell if the rippling light trails belonged to some distant cosmos or if he might reach out and pluck a glowing marble from the mist. Jimmy craned his neck up and could see the glowing silhouette of the tree shrinking above him. Then it was obscured by the spiraling space dust as he fell into glittery black.

The familiar cold lethargy of void sinking into Jimmy’s core stole his breath. He closed his eyes and braced for death.

He plunged into warmth and water shot up his nose, forcing him to cough and breathe in more water. Jimmy flailed for a moment, lungs and face burning, before he opened his eyes and kicked for the sunlight rippling above him. He surfaced sputtering and blinked the water from his eyes.

Blue sky. Overworld. River. This wasn’t Jimmy’s Spawn. No way fWhip would have torn down the Spawn towers and replaced it with a river. Not even for a prank. He’d sunk too much time and effort into designing it. 

Jimmy turned in the water and was so stunned to find himself facing a bustling dock that he stopped kicking and sank below the water for a moment. Most of the boats seemed to be cargo ships, but a handful of smaller fishing dingy bumped along a section of dock lower to the water. Dockhands tied off ropes and hauled crates. A bell was clanging over the shrill calls of waterfowl. A line of cats sunbathed on a roof. The bow of a ship cut through the water beside Jimmy, sending lapping waves over his head. 

As he resurfaced coughing, one of the fishermen on the lower deck locked eyes with Jimmy. The man opened his mouth in a shout Jimmy couldn’t make out. Still a bit in shock, Jimmy made a pathetic attempt to move closer to the docks. Swimming wasn’t exactly a vital skill for mesa folks. Jimmy could tread water, but that was about it. The lake beside Tumble Town only filled for a short time each year. 

The fisherman waved over another. Now two fishermen watched Jimmy struggle, before the second hustled over to a pile. They lifted a long line of rope with a small buoy attached to its end and flung it in a sailing arc. It plopped into the water, buoy bobbing just out of Jimmy’s reach. After one failed swipe, he grasped the coarse rope with both hands and realized he hadn’t noticed his fingers were beginning to go numb. The fishermen hauled back on the rope, dragging Jimmy in, away from the inlet’s traffic.

Once he was in reach, one of the fishermen leaned down and grasped Jimmy by the back of his vest, hauling him clear out of the water. Jimmy stumbled onto the wooden dock with a wheeze, water pouring off his clothes and hat. He was somewhat embarrassed, but too grateful for the rescue to complain.

“What da ‘ell ya doing? No swimming near the docks!” barked the first fisherman who’d spotted Jimmy, an older fellow kitted with wild wiry white facial hair.

“I fell!” Jimmy hung his head, staring at the rough wooden boards beneath him, and leaned his hands on his knees.

“Gone overboard and no one spot you?” guessed the other fisherman, younger and clean shaven yet somehow scruffier looking for it. “How’d you manage that?”

“I don’t know.” Jimmy glanced up. “Thanks, though. Uh, where are we?”

Both their faces creased with concern and the bearded fellow boomed (Jimmy was beginning to suspect that shouting was this man’s default volume), “Yer in Path! What rock you been living under, man?”

Jimmy shrugged as he straightened up, ready to fire back some sharp comment, but instead his mouth fell slack and his eyes went wide when he saw behind the two fishermen. The docks were more than docks, expanding into a whole fishing village. Beyond its worn roofs were rolling farmsteads. Then a massive city—more like a city-state—crawled up a mountainside to meet the roots of a tree. Another gigantic tree. Its trunk dwarfed the fishing village and it rose impossibly far into the sky, past the clouds; the canopy cast shadow across the valley. If its size wasn’t strange enough, the middle of the trunk was entirely gone, replaced with glittering purple enchantment light that divided its stump from the suspended top. As if the bark was peeled away to reveal a ghost beneath.

“First time seeing the World Tree? It’s always a sight.” The bearded man grinned, a bit of a laugh in his voice. “Listen, how yeh acciden’ally end up in Path I can’t fathom, but you’ll be wanting to speak with the dockmaster. You’ll find her in da office over there. Orange roof. She can help you charter a ship home.”

“Right.” Jimmy pried his gaze free from the tree and cast it around the docks until it followed the fisherman’s gnarled finger to the low roof of orange slats. He climbed up the steps from the lower dock, leaving a drizzly trail of water behind him. On the main level, people bustled to and fro with a clamor that hit his ears all at once.

“And if you gotta book yourself a place for the night, there’s an inn around the corner from here!” The younger fisherman called over the hubbub at Jimmy’s back.

Jimmy walked to Dockmaster’s office in a daze. He had to step around at least four cats lounging on the street and nudge a fat white one out of the doorway. He pulled the heavy door shut behind him and leaned against it, thumping his head back in relief as the din of the town dimmed.

“You need something?”

Behind a counter, a middle-aged woman with a twisted headscarf holding back waves of black coils and small spectacles perched on her broad nose, glanced up from her scratching quill and thick ledger. The office was small, no chairs, save the stool she sat on, but it had squat windows lining the walls, peeking out to the docks and letting in light. A wide rug laid across the wooden floor bore a frayed path from the door to the counter. The dockmaster was looking at Jimmy’s face expectantly.

Looking at his face . Jimmy jolted. Since Joel cursed him, Jimmy had grown used to people looking down when speaking with him. Or in the case of the people of Tumble Town: gazing in the approximate place they thought he wanted them to. To everyone else, mirrors included, Jimmy appeared a toy. But whatever divine magic Joel had at his disposal, it hadn’t managed to change how the Sheriff saw. Had the fishermen been looking at his face too? Was the curse broken?

“How tall am I?” Jimmy asked. “It’s tall right? I’m big?”

The question stopped the steady rasp of ink over page. The dockmaster squinted at him: a young man dripping rivers on her rug with wide eyes. She shrugged and returned to her book. “A couple blocks.”

“Yes!” Jimmy punched the air in victory. He sauntered up to the desk and chirped, “I’d like to book passage for Tumble Town.”

Sighing through her nose, she shut her book and asked, “Where?”

“My empire. Tumble Town.”

“Your empire is named Tumble Town.” Her voice was drier than the mesa and a crease was deepening between her brows.

“Well, they aren’t really empires, I guess. It was more like a reference to the empires of ancient lore. Since there are twelve of us too.” The dockmaster continued to look at him blankly, so Jimmy blustered on, “If you haven’t heard of Tumble Town, there’s Dawn? Or Glimmer Grove? Those have been around a while longer and have proper ports.”

“Son, I’ve never heard of any of those places in my life. The farthest I can get you passage is New Papyrus. Otherwise, I have actual work to do. So get.”

Jimmy exited the dockmaster’s office feeling a messy tangle of admonished, frustrated, and humiliated. How had no one heard of the empires?

 A passing wagon drew his eyes to distant wheat fields and back to the immense tree taking up the horizon. Wherever he was, whether it was the same world or he’d stumbled through another rift, he wasn’t going to find answers in a dockyard. He set off, after the wagon, then past it when it pulled off the road to halt beside a farmhouse. 

The road curved up to the iron mouth of a gatehouse. But the top of the wall, where Jimmy expected to see lines of archers, was empty. The only guard he could see idled in the shade beneath the gate’s arch. He had a sword sheathed at his belt and leaned against an unstrung bow. He was decked from head to foot in copper trimmed netherite armor, incongruous with the otherwise negligent scene. 

Jimmy half-thought he’d just walk right in with how the guard’s gaze meandered around the hillside before glancing longingly within the city, never eyeing the actual road. But just as he was passing under the gate, the guard nodded at Jimmy’s damp clothes.

“Welcome to Path. If you have any wares to sell, be sure your permit is up to date. There are several inns I can direct you to if you don’t have a place to stay.”

Directions! Jimmy could get directions. “Could you tell me where to find whoever is in charge?”

The guard’s casual lean straightened and a trace of confusion flickered in his eyes. He pointed to a brick building not far from the entrance. “The Watch Captain will be in the barracks.”

“Do they have a boss? Or are they in charge of the whole city? Path, I mean.” Jimmy sized up the barracks. It was a larger building than most in Tumble Town, but it didn’t stand out from the buildings surrounding it.

“Oh.” The guard smiled, faint anxiety leaving his face. “Nah. City Hall is at the end of the main road. It’s the mansion with the plaza out front. You can’t miss it.”

“Thanks!” Jimmy took the plunge and hustled up the wide street. A City Hall! So they had a mayor like Animalia. 

Once in the city though, staying focused was a bit tricky. The people were… not completely foreign: there were humans and elves and dwarves. But there were also bark-covered nature spirits picking out fresh produce. Unfamiliar iron constructs sharing drinks around an outdoor grill. A smattering of piglins who seemed to be traveling in packs. Wee mouse-like people and towering dragon-like people and more that Jimmy couldn’t put a name to. 

Tumble Town was, for the most part, populated by humans and constructs. He’d grown accustomed to the diverse populace of Animalia, of Sanctuary and, once upon a time, the dissonance of being the tallest fellow in Gobland. But even with those touchstones, Jimmy was dizzy from the difference. 

And before he knew it, he was lost.

Why were there so many side streets? Who needed this many ways to get lost? He found stables and taverns and a school and every craftsman under the sun. Horses and other bizarre steeds pulling carts blocked the road. Bells jingled as people entered storefronts and Jimmy flinched expecting to see the Fae.

As Jimmy plodded down another staircase, he noticed piping along a building’s wall feeding into a metal box lined with vents. As he passed it, warm humid air rushed through his hair. It was the sort of ramshackle industrial addition, Jimmy expected from Gobland. Unlike Gobland though, plants burst from every corner of the city Jimmy had seen so far, painting various nooks in the tranquil stylings of a forest cottage.

The stairs spit Jimmy back onto a main road and this one bustled with dwarves. Jimmy had seen one dwarf in his life. One of the Hermits. Here, dwarves were hocking stained glass and window-shopping for chisels all around him.

“Pardon.” Jimmy jumped back as a blond dwarf holding a book under one arm and a covered basket in the other politely side-stepped around him and hopped up the stairs. A buttery smell wafted from the basket as she passed and Jimmy bemoaned his empty inventory. Oh, to buy a biscuit. Or five.

The mechanical bits and bobs didn’t seem so hodgepodge now. A fan fastened above a storefront pumped cool air into the crowded street. A child turned a spigot and water poured from the pipe into her waiting bucket. An elf and an elderly dwarf argued over the price of a short standing mirror. Jimmy drifted down the street until he hit an intersection. A young dwarf stood beside a tall stack of newspapers, exchanging the papers for emeralds to the passersby. Some sort of pulley system was raising bags of sand into a factory’s second floor.

What turn should Jimmy take? Why was this place so big? None of the other empires were this big. Not even the hermits’ ridiculous builds were this big. He was almost halfway round the base of the World Tree and still the city sprawled onward.

Falling back on the age old strategy of get-high-enough-to-see-where-you’re-going, Jimmy found a staircase closer to the snowy base of the World Tree. Instead of taking him to an outlook though, he ended up at a dead end between a smithy and alcove sheltering a shrine. A glass mosaic formed a miniature replica of the World Tree and someone had crowded the lip of the alcove with tied bundles of lavender.  Above the tall wall, he could make out wilder parts of a mountainside and he debated his chances of successfully climbing it and how much trouble he could get into for using the alcove to aid his parkour.

“You lost?”

Jimmy jumped, shoulders hiking. “I didn’t touch anything!”

Off to the side, stood under the overhang of the open forge, two piglins were watching him. Both wore the thick leather aprons of smiths. Neither had tusks.

The larger one, arms folded, black fur, her mane braided out of her face into a crown, snorted. “I can see that. You stare at empty walls often?”

“You look a little lost.” The smaller of the two piglins—floppy ears, pink fur freckled with white, spectacles perched on her snout—piped up from where she was hanging up tools along the wall. “Tourists don’t tend to wander from the main thoroughfare unless they know what shop they are looking for. I’m Wire and this is my sister Kindlewood. Do you need any help?”

Relief crashed through Jimmy. Thank goodness for kind strangers. He wandered over so they weren’t calling across the yard. “Yeah, I’m Jimmy. I’m trying to find your Emperor.”

“Emperor?” Kindlewood tilted her head back and whistled. “Oh, you’re Lost-lost.”

“There are the committee members?” Wire offered. “City Hall has offices you can check if you need directions or help finding someone more specific.”

“No one’s in charge? Not even a mayor?” Jimmy’s haste to get home tripped over that unfathomable detail and his thoughts stalled.

“Lots of folks are in charge. There’s a system to it.”

Kindlewood, who’d been sizing Jimmy up in silence, spoke. “You need fWhip.” 

Jimmy flung himself forward and his hands smacked a table between them. “fWhip is here?!”

“You know fWhip?” The sisters and Jimmy asked in unison.

Jimmy pantomimed fWhip’s long ears. “Glides on his ears with a hazardous amount of rockets and a prayer? Goblin? Maybe one and quarter blocks tall?”

The women’s surprise dissipated into disappointment and the elder sister shook her head, heavy brows knit together. “No, different guy.” 

Wire bobbed her snout. “This time of day, our fWhip will be finishing up planting a new field. If you go now, you could catch him by the north gate. He’s traveled farther than most. If anyone’s gonna know how to get you home, it's him.”

Chapter Text

The smithy sisters explained to Jimmy that the main road of Path wrapped around the World Tree from the south gate he entered to the north gate, only ever broken by City Hall’s plaza. And he’d somehow completely missed it on his way here. Heading back to the main road would place him around the corner from the north gate. If he found himself following a sheer canal to a wharf of brick and mortar factories, then he was at the east gate and about as far off track as he could get.

Jimmy was tired of walking. Nevertheless, the thought of a familiar face compelled him to thank the piglin sisters and trek onward. When he reached the north gate, a wave of late afternoon rays glazed the river and hills in gold.

Walking up the wide road was a farmer in a teal tunic with striking ginger hair and a hoe slung over one shoulder. Jimmy recognized him. He wasn’t a goblin. He looked similar to the human form fWhip had when visiting Hermitcraft, but not quite. He split the difference in height between a goblin and a human. A short neat beard. The type of light skin that burned easy, forever rosy. Less freckles. His ears curled into points; inhuman, yet tiny compared to what Jimmy was used to seeing on him. But for all that, it was still fWhip .

fWhip’s confident gait slowed as he spotted Jimmy gawking. With a spin, the hoe disappeared into his inventory and a full set of diamond trimmed netherite armor shimmered around him, transforming the unassuming farmer into a formidable threat in moments. 

Light teal eyes cut across Jimmy. “Hello, Stranger. Can I help you with something?”

Holy moly. Even their voices were similar. “You don’t know me?”

“Should I?” 

The short question was too familiar. It drove Jimmy up the wall how fWhip could sound so condescending behind such a mild tone. He burst out, “I’m the Sheriff!” like it was obvious (because it was ). 

“Last I checked, Path doesn’t have a sheriff.” The small distrustful twist of fWhip’s mouth grew into a proper frown.

“No—I mean—I’m the Sheriff of Tumble Town. I’m, uh, lost.” Jimmy couldn’t help but ask, “You really don’t recognize me? fWhip, you’re not messing with me?”

fWhip arched his brow into the shadows cast by his helmet. “You have me at a disadvantage. Might I have your name?”

Jimmy’s shoulders sagged and he pressed a hand against his head in disbelief. “You’re not joking. It’s Jimmy. I’m Sheriff Jimmy.”

“Jimmy.” fWhip echoed back and Jimmy noted the lack of proper title. “Nice to meet you.”

“Nice to meet you, too?” Jimmy opened and closed his mouth a few times, trying to figure out what to say to this strange changeling of his ex-deputy. Even though they weren’t on good terms anymore, fWhip didn’t treat Jimmy like a stranger. Jimmy despised this sudden distance.

“You said you were lost.” fWhip saved him by cutting right to the crux of Jimmy’s situation.

“Yeah. I don’t know how I got here. Or where here is . I’ve never heard of Path.”

Rather than answering, fWhip began ambling past Jimmy, through the city gates. Jimmy, with not much else he could do, trailed after him. 

“Path is a center of trade, an agriculture powerhouse, and home to the World Tree.” he said as they weaved through the busy roads. People waved and called greetings to fWhip, who lifted his hand in amicable acknowledgement. “To haven’t have heard of it at all… Amnesia?”

“I know where I’m supposed to be. I know who I am.” Jimmy ran a couple fingers along the Sheriff hat’s brim. Jimmy made those decisions some time ago, but they hadn’t changed.

fWhip shrugged. He hadn’t removed his armor, so the pauldrons clanked against the rim of his helmet. “I haven’t seen the entire world. Yet. You might be from some place beyond New Papyrus. Their port is larger and reaches more nations than ours. Do you remember how you got here?”

 “The Fae.” Jimmy spat.

fWhip rolled to a stop outside a market stall brimming with flowers and folded his arms across his chest. That sharp glean was back in his eyes. “You’re gonna have to be a bit more specific. Which fae? Did you make a deal?”

“Maybe? They left these books asking for my help.” Jimmy said, “I only saw one after they got me lost. It was black and wore this white mask.”

“Oh that Fae.”

A thrill of hope and exasperation had Jimmy leaning into fWhip’s face. “You know them?!”

fWhip gently pushed Jimmy back a few inches. “Your Fae are like… wandering traders. From what I’ve gathered, their own world is a bit of a mess so they seek out others and barter their way in. They’re no more dangerous than your average merchant. I sometimes buy potions from them.”

Jimmy recalled the gauntlet he went through to retrieve the Skull of the First Creeper and the ensuing ‘reward’ of being abandoned in another realm. He thought about Scott’s underground market and Mayor Lizzie and fWhip cutting in on his gunpowder trade. The Tumble Town Bandits. He decided merchants were plenty dangerous.

“They didn’t offer me anything in return. Not at first. Later, when I lost my elytra, they gave me wings, but before that they were just asking for favors.” 

“They probably couldn’t.” fWhip nodded at the stones beneath his boots. “If they weren’t in the world yet, there wouldn’t be a way to repay you. Mark another point for you being from another world.” 

Jimmy groaned and rubbed his hands across his face. Of course he was. Where was he supposed to find another rift? If the ordeal with Hermitcraft had been anything to go off, they weren’t exactly stable means of world hopping. 

“But, they still owed you.” fWhip said authoritatively. “And carting people between worlds is tricky business. So they must have owed you a lot.”

“They dumped me here to get out of debt?!” Jimmy wailed in shock. 

A florist, tying together small bouquets in the back of the market stall, looked up from his work with a baffled expression. fWhip dropped an emerald on the table, selected a small bunch of lilacs from the display vases and hooked an arm through Jimmy’s to steer him away from the market to a low wall. He pushed Jimmy into a sit on the wall and hopped up beside him. 

fWhip began tucking lilac blossoms into Jimmy’s vest pocket and hissed under his breath, “ No. Well, yes. The Fae weren’t dodging debt. They were paying it. A great act of magic in exchange for one of equal value.”

“Are you kidding me? This isn’t a gift! It’s worse than every time Joel’s messed with me and he’s a god!” Jimmy barely reeled his voice below a shout. “I’m stranded in another world with no clear way back!”

There was a lull, as fWhip mulled that over.

“…And you want to go back?” fWhip’s eyes flicked up from the flowers for confirmation.

“Yes! Of course I do! Why’s that even a question?!” Jimmy flung his arms up. He didn’t like the odd pitch in fWhip’s voice when he asked that.

fWhip nodded. “Okay! Just had to check. Your Fae are traders. Something made them think sending you to another world was a fair deal. But if you were happy in your old one… You’d be welcome to stay here is all.”

The unsaid “If you weren’t.” rankled Jimmy. The Fae thought he wasn’t happy in Tumble Town? That was ridiculous! He was its Sheriff! The other rulers were still a pain in his side ( fWhip in particular), but things had been better. He and Joel had settled their differences. Townsfolk were beginning to respect him. Everything he’d wanted felt like it was about to be in his grasp before he’d gotten tossed into this dimension.

“I need to go back.” Jimmy said curtly.

“If you’re sure. I can look into ways of getting you home, but until then you’ll be staying here as my Guest. That sound like a deal to you?” fWhip held out his hand.

Jimmy grabbed it tight and shook. “That sounds great, mate.”

fWhip stared at their entwined hands with a wide expression. Then the first smile Jimmy had seen on fWhip during their entire conversation crept across his face and he returned the handshake with a little laugh. “I see why they like you!”

If this was how the Fae treated people they liked, Jimmy didn’t want to end up on their bad side. “If I’m your guest, does that mean you have a spare room?”

fWhip blinked, thoughts buffering for a suspicious amount of time before he snapped his fingers and pointed. “Oh! Right! I have just the place. Follow me!”

He sprang down from the wall and Jimmy had to jog to catch back up with him. He led him to a stylish plaza before a mansion. Jimmy recalled this matched the description of the City Hall just as he was following fWhip inside the massive double doors. A grand entryway, complete with multiple chandeliers greeted him.

“fWhip?” Jimmy squeaked.

“Over here!” fWhip drummed the side of a wall he was peeking around.

There was the low murmur of meetings behind a couple closed doors Jimmy shuffled past. fWhip took him up a staircase, pointing out a kitchen in the same hallway. On the second floor, Jimmy was momentarily distracted by the way the teal walls with acacia accents matched fWhip. Then fWhip had flung open a door to reveal a master suite.

The walls were a royal velvety red. A thick dark wooden frame—the sort that could hang privacy curtains—encased the largest bed Jimmy had ever seen in his life. A walk-in closet was stuffed with what looked like boxes of documents.

“This should fit you, right?” fWhip asked chipperly.

Jimmy tripped up the half step it took to reach the bed (Ocean of fabric. No way that was a bed.) and caught himself on the mattress. A puff of dust escaped beneath Jimmy’s hands.

“Oh, yikes. We can get that aired out first.” fWhip rushed over and started yanking and bundling the bedding away from the frame. “I forget about dust!”

“Wait.” Jimmy coughed and waved a hand. “Is this your room?”

“I don’t remember the last time I slept here, but yeah.” fWhip pulled back a window’s curtain to reveal a splendid view of the plaza.

“You’re the Mayor!” Jimmy accused. All the running about and question dodging from the villagers and Path’s head honcho was fWhip. Of course it was. Goblin fWhip acted the same way. A king who never called himself so. He had the power to demand respect, yet frittered away his time with friends and pranks. Frustration swelled in Jimmy’s throat and he propped his hands on his hips as he loomed over this fWhip. “How does no one in this city seem to know you’re in charge?”

fWhip waved his hand in the air with a cringe on his face. “Ehhh. I’m really not. I don’t hold a government office or help run that sort of stuff. I mostly plant fields. Make sure food’s growing and the World Tree is healthy. It’s all part of the Deal. Giving me a room here was just convenient since its by their sapling.”

“What?”

“Look, over here.” fWhip abandoned his blanket mission to pull Jimmy by the arm down the hall and open a door out onto a garden terrace.

They swerved through a small patio shaded by a trellis, around an elegant pond, and climbed stone steps to a tree. A small normal tree for once. Enshrined by a low circular wall. Worn folded paper flowers, metal pressed into the shapes of leaves, a glass purple star; little crafted gifts littered the ground around the wall. Man, these people were big about their trees.  

Seeing Jimmy’s baffled expression at the collection of junk, fWhip nodded up in the direction of the World Tree. “Some folks can’t make the hike up to the World Tree so its sapling makes a good alternative.”

That explained nothing, but it dawned on Jimmy the tree before him shared the same grey bark and verdant canopy as the megalith above them. “Wait. You guys are planting more?!”

“Of course.” fWhip climbed up on the low wall and reached out to touch the tree’s trunk. Where his fingers brushed the bark, the grey color pulsed purple. “The World Tree is old. It won’t live forever. This sapling will one day take its place. I help care for them both. Ease the World Tree’s work and strengthen the sapling.”

fWhip’s voice was matter of fact, like he was an average gardener discussing how often he pulled weeds and fertilized flowerbeds, but there was something almost reverent in this. The magic trees. The offerings and shrines. 

The sun had dipped below the World Tree’s canopy by now. A little skyship Jimmy hadn’t noticed before drifted beside one of the World Tree’s branches, like a fisherman coming to port. Light hit city roofs and long horizontal stripes of shadow and sun fell across the city. It bounced off fWhip’s netherite as he flashed a grin at Jimmy. 

What was this place? Jimmy thought helplessly.

fWhip bundled him off to the manor’s master suite once more and escaped with the blankets. Jimmy flopped on the empty mattress (too big) and stared at the ceiling. There were still a few hours before sunset, but Jimmy was spent. His brain was crammed full and spilling out his ears. The light pouring through the windows was too much, so he covered his face with the Sheriff hat and breathed in the familiar smell of sweaty leather.

He woke, bleary-eyed and disoriented. Someone was tucking blankets around him; they lifted his head to tuck a pillow under him. “Wah?”

“Go back to sleep, Jimmy. You’re fine.” A voice soothed.

Deputy fWhip. Oh. Okay. With a satisfied huff, Jimmy rolled over, curling the blankets with him—This stupid cave was always too cold–and fell back into a less anxious sleep.

Morning crept into Path on soft lavender feet beneath the World Tree’s branches to break through windows and paint the walls with cool light. Jimmy fumbled around, trying to grab his hat from his nightstand, but only found more mattress. He finally popped his head out of the pillows and spotted his hat hanging on a hook in a closet. Who put that over there!?

Ah.

Right.

New fWhip must have come back with the blankets. Jimmy’s face warmed with embarrassment at the idea of being tucked in. But also… after the time he’d had? Maybe he deserved to be pampered a little. 

The Sheriff hat properly secured, Jimmy skipped from the master suite with new hope bursting from his chest and a great hunger in his belly. He wasn’t alone. He had a friend with a familiar face who’d help him. He meandered through the halls until he came to the kitchen fWhip had indicated the night before and found fWhip there already with a small knife flying over a cutting board.

They folded out a short wooden table to eat on from the wall. Breakfast wasn’t like any Jimmy might have in Tumble Town. No dry meat. No crumbly biscuits. No gravy. A salad. In a large wooden bowl to divide between themselves: greens, carrots and apple drenched in a berry dressing. fWhip paired it with warm bread drizzled in honey and an herbal tea. The fare was all sweet, fresh, and drippy.

Jimmy inhaled the food. He never did have dinner the day (however long he was lost?) before. He cleared his plate and licked his sticky fingers clean when he thought fWhip wasn’t watching. fWhip ate at a more sedate pace and smiled brilliantly when Jimmy ventured to ask for another serving.

fWhip scooped the dishes into the sink and explained he had duties to take care of for the day before he could begin researching Jimmy’s “situation”. Jimmy was welcome to either stay and explore Path on his own or spend the morning with fWhip in a forest along the southwest mountain range. 

Jimmy did not want to get lost again. This world still pressed strangely around him, like he was once wrong step from slipping into an abyss. He was sticking to fWhip like a nail in a horseshoe, thank you very much.

So fWhip led Jimmy out the North gate into the farmsteads beyond Path’s wall. The dirt road and porch of a large farmhouse was paved with multicolored shulker boxes. fWhip hopped across the shulker monster to wrestle open the door.

“Ignore the mess. I wasn’t expecting company.” fWhip called from inside as Jimmy nosily opened a couple boxes to find the unorganized remains of various build projects.

Inside, the farmhouse was homey and scuffed with wear. fWhip pried the lid off a barrel wedged under a windowsill and set it to the side. Then he lifted a second set of netherite armor out.

“You have more netherite? Do you just live in the Nether?!” Most people Jimmy knew didn’t bother with the stuff because it was so dangerous and time consuming to find ancient debris. Yet Jimmy had seen more of the stuff in the last couple days than he’d seen in his life!

fWhip stacked the suit of armor on the floor. “Ha! Felt like it for a bit. I won’t need to go mining again for a long while.” Like shaking out an old coat, he dragged elytra from the barrel next. “Okay, do you want elytra or the chestplate?”

The dots connected. Jimmy gaped. “You’re serious? This is for me?”

“You can’t exactly be wandering the woods without armor, Jimmy.” fWhip wiped some dust from the gleaming dark armor with the cuff of his shirt.

Jimmy lost the little armor he had and the wings the Fae gifted him when they sent him to that strange forest world. And as stunning as the views here were by foot, Jimmy missed flying. He took the elytra from fWhip and fastened its charm base between his shoulders. The grey beetle wings twitched open as color bled from base to wingtip. Tan to match Jimmy’s vest on the exterior, giving the illusion of a long jacket from behind, and sky blue on the interior. 

fWhip pinched a wingtip between two fingers and turned it either way, admiring the way light glowed through the near opaque membrane. “They fit you.”

Jimmy couldn’t keep the grin off his face as he bent to buckle armor to his boots. fWhip dropped the wing and, before Jimmy realized what he was doing, stole the Sheriff hat from Jimmy’s sun-bleached hair, sliding on a helmet in its place.

Jimmy jerked and his hands flew up to seize fWhip’s wrists. “Hold it. Hold it. The hat stays. Give it back.”

fWhip’s eyes were wide, shoulders high. Then like a rattler coiling, he shifted on his feet, narrowed his eyes, and said lowly, “You need a helmet. With the elytra you’re more exposed.”

Jimmy tightened his grip on fWhip’s wrists; a hint of strain entered his voice. “Give me the hat, fWhip.”

fWhip flinched, like Jimmy had hit him. Then he met his brown eyes and stared like he might look through them into Jimmy’s mind. He silently pried Jimmy’s hands from his wrists, one by one, and placed the hat in them.

Jimmy gasped in relief, a smile returning to his face as he replaced the netherite helmet with the Sheriff hat once more. fWhip took the helmet and drummed his fingertips along its enchanted surface. While Jimmy adjusted the greaves to fit him better (the armor was forged for someone shorter), fWhip tossed the helmet into his inventory with a flick of his fingers.

He didn’t speak long enough that Jimmy felt bad for reacting like he had. This fWhip hadn’t known better. Jimmy stood up, rubbing the back of his neck. “Sorry, man. The hat’s a big deal, but I didn’t mean to snap.”

“Stay close to me and don’t wander.” fWhip opened the door and ordered. He stepped out into the filtered green daylight.

“Right.” Jimmy said to no one. He whacked the side of a fist to his forehead. C’mon! He didn’t know how to explain why he was so defensive about the hat; fWhip had no understanding of Tumble Town’s history or the emperors and Jimmy wasn’t articulate on a good day. Holding in a defeated sigh, Jimmy followed fWhip outside.

Chapter Text

The road out Path’s north gate curled along a lake, climbing up blooming hills lined with great turning windmills. Aside from a pair of watchmen chatting with each other upon the parapet adjacent to the gate, Jimmy couldn’t spot additional guards. 

Tumble Town only had Jimmy to protect it. Between bandits, mobs, and sabotage from the other empires, the town always felt on the brink. Lore Village had a god safekeeping them. Sanctuary’s distance and anonymity guarded them from intruders.  Glimmer Grove had its knights (and its Monster Slayer). None of the empires were particularly militaristic aside from y’know, the pirates (who were more into thieving than pillaging). But they had defenses. 

Path was so much larger, brimming with greater riches than all the empires. The walls, the towers, the barracks, the distant shapes of castles along the horizon all spoke to some old age of enemies and sieges. But now there were no warriors, only a smattering of laymen in armor, more skilled with a plow than a sword. 

“Are these gates always open?” Jimmy frowned over his shoulder. “What if you get raided?”

“The gates close in the evening.” fWhip said, “We’ve had issues with local pillagers, but I recently struck a Deal with them, where they don’t go beyond the city walls and I don’t sack their stronghold. The night watch picks off any other mobs that creep too close.”

“What about other empires? Or, cities, whatever you call them here.”

fWhip tilted his head like a bird, puzzled, before he clicked his tongue in realization. “Oh! Like wars? No one’s going to attack Path or its allies. It’s too vital to trade. Not to mention a lot of people have dual citizenship. It’d be like invading your own home.”

He asked a bit aghast, “Does your Tumble Town have to worry about that? Does your world still have wars?”

“Not. War, exactly…” Irrational embarrassment flushed down Jimmy’s neck as he thought of explaining the bedroom walls Joel summoned. “But conflict between empires happens. And bandits.”

fWhip tucked a hand around the back of Jimmy’s neck and gave him an encouraging shake that felt a little demeaning. Like fWhip thought Jimmy was some sort of bedraggled kitten he’d fished from the river and not the Sheriff . “You don’t have to worry about that here. Mobs are the only ones picking fights.”

Jimmy itched to give the elytra a spin, but fWhip hadn’t given him rockets and wasn’t flying himself (Had he forgot? Was he mad? Did he only have one elytra? Why offer it then?), so he trudged beside fWhip, who pointed out every building and field with a proud fondness. The cottages outside Path were rustic, but built for a colder season than the sort in Tumble Town with its bare sun-baked storefronts faces. The mountain range before them blobbed up in strange formations that reminded Jimmy of spoonfuls of pudding. A straight two-pronged monolith protruded from a distant cliff. What duties did fWhip have that took him so far from the city into this wilderness?

Reaching the edge of a spruce forest, fWhip announced the pillager castle (castle?!) was near here, so it was a race. Then, with a vicious cackle, he sprinted away. Jimmy yelped. This was cheating and uncalled for and several other sensible threats Jimmy was too panicked to think of at that moment (seeing as he’d been abandoned!). He gave chase with an odd sense of deja vu, tracking the glint of enchanted armor deftly dipping around the underbrush. A wide empty stretch of land separated the spruce forest from the birch forest fWhip was pelting toward. Mounted on a cliff beside a lake, all at once, loomed a castle. A proper castle. With pillager banners hanging from its white walls. Jimmy ran faster.

fWhip waited for him at the tree line, a wide grin on his face. Breathless, Jimmy rapped a fist against fWhip’s pauldron. Then a second harder time when fWhip laughed.

fWhip flicked the brim of the Sheriff hat. “Relax! You made it!”

“You suck!” Jimmy gasped.

“Did you get a look at the castle?” fWhip asked, skipping backwards on the pebbly forest path.

“Did I…? Yes, I saw the castle, fWhip!”

“Do you like it? It’s a bit small, but I think I did a good job.”

Jimmy’s irritated frown disappeared through sheer confusion. “You made the pillager castle?”

fWhip nodded. “It was part of our Deal. They get a nice home and a patch of land. We get peace of mind.”

“Huh.”

Jimmy tried to mentally run the numbers on how he might run a similar scam on the Tumble Town Bandits. He’d busted their last hideout; They’d been roughing a nomadic lifestyle since. See, the issue for Jimmy was he didn’t think the Sheriff and the Tumble Town Bandits would be able to stand in the same room and refrain from shooting at each other long enough for that sort of deal to be worked out.

“Onward!” fWhip cheered.

fWhip’s work, it seemed, was separating dead branches from the trees and inspecting mossy logs. Jimmy offered to collect the branches, but fWhip assured him rotting branches were good for the undergrowth. After a third time offering to help, fWhip explained what he was doing. Path required lots of lumber, so fWhip helped tend and grow the nearby forests. He’d alert City Hall if he found dying trees that could be removed, which forests could afford logging and which needed time to recover. There was even a community program where people ‘adopted’ a tree and donated supplies for its care.

It wasn’t what Jimmy expected. Goblin fWhip always had some transportation project or economic growth plan he was working on in Gobland. This fWhip was a glorified gardener.

fWhip paused at a birch sapling, not much taller than Jimmy. Jimmy didn’t give it much thought. This whole trip, while beautiful, had been kind of boring. Then fWhip knelt in the moss and pressed his hands at the sapling’s base. A thrum of purple light lit the ground. The sapling started to grow. It stretched up and unfurled fresh leaves. fWhip lifted his hands and it stopped.

Unnerved, Jimmy’s thoughts were thrown to the eerie forest the Fae trapped him in. “What was that?”

fWhip brushed his hands off as he stood. “Poor thing had a little infection. It should be strong enough to beat it now though. I’ll be keeping an eye on it to be sure.”

“You made it grow! Like magic, not bonemeal or fertilizer.” Sausage told Jimmy about the nature magic of Sanctuary before, but he’d never seen it. It was such a struggle to get any proper crops to grow in the mesa’s dry rocky sand. The idea of plants (the plants Jimmy wanted anyway, scraggly desert weeds didn’t count) growing on their own... It was part of what had made the Fae so alluring. Moss in a desert.

“Jim, this whole world is magic.” fWhip gave him a bemused smile. “Look, check this out.”

fWhip darted into the trees and Jimmy, once more, chased. They headed back to the main path and into the shadow a cliffside. So close to the mountain’s base, Jimmy couldn’t see the peculiar monolith above anymore. 

A cave mouth was tucked into the stone. fWhip entered fearlessly. Jimmy entered wishing he had a weapon. Inside, the cave opened up to reveal that the monolith punched through the mountain and deeper still into the earth, as though the mountain had formed around the structure rather than the other way around. 

And where chunks of the intricately carved stone were worn down or fully missing, purple light shimmered. Like the World Tree, like a ghost, magic held the form.

fWhip waved a hand up at the monolith, “It’s hollow, so I retrofitted it as a creeper farm, but you can see, this place is nearly as old as the World Tree. And the world remembers it. Supports it. That’s the purple stuff. The world.”

“We’re part of the world too. Magic. Grow some trees. Maybe you’ll get good at it like me!” fWhip winked and clapped a gauntlet to Jimmy’s shoulder. “C’mon, we can head back to Path now. I’ll take you to see the World Tree up close!”

They chatted of lighter more familiar things as they walked. Jimmy told fWhip about Norman and Flick. fWhip confessed he was more of a dog person. There was an obscure inn fWhip was partial to due to the sheer number of dogs that lived there.

He was regaling Jimmy with stories about Path’s seaside neighbor New Papyrus, when he broke off with a heavy shout.

Pain exploded in Jimmy’s knee.  It buckled at once and Jimmy went down like a pile of bricks. His face smacked into a rock—cutting off his scream— and heat bloomed across his bottom lip. Jimmy rolled back to his feet and heard a snap. A broken crossbow bolt fell loose from where it had caught in the seams of his armor. Jimmy swung his head around to see what hit him, staggering, but not quite falling. A pillager patrolman stood blocks away in the trees reloading. 

“Why are you even out here?” fWhip’s shrill voice was suddenly in Jimmy’s ear, warm fingers hooking into his shirt.

fWhip hauled Jimmy behind a tree. They both hid there for a breath before fWhip darted back out with a garbled ‘eek!’ and drew back his bow. Jimmy pressed one hand against his bleeding lip and the other fluttered uselessly about his belt looking for a sword that was not there. He poked his head out from around the tree’s trunk in time to see a crossbow bolt zip into the bushes. The pillager and fWhip danced around each other through the woods, each trying to line up another shot on the other. 

fWhip got there first, a flame-tipped arrow punching through the pillager’s neck. They went down with a low gurgle and fWhip sprinted back to Jimmy.

“Are you okay? Where did they get you?”

Jimmy laughed shakily and waved his bloody hand. “Fine. I’m good. A couple hearts down. They surprised me more than anything.”

“Let me see. Let me help.” fWhip backed Jimmy up against the tree again, dabbing Jimmy’s face with a clean cloth and fishing around through his inventory, before holding up some pork jerky. “Eat.”

Jimmy gratefully started gnawing on the jerky, but fWhip’s intense attention was leaving Jimmy more dazed than the attack. He mumbled, “fWhip, it's fine. Respawning back in Path would be inconvenient, but it's fine. The pillager didn’t even get me down low.”

“Respawn?” fWhip stopped short. “Like the dragon?”

Before Jimmy could ask what was wrong, the ginger was unbuckling his diamond trimmed breastplate. He slid the gleaming netherite armor off and held it out to Jimmy. “Put this on. Right now.”

Puzzled and a little spooked by fWhip’s grim tone, Jimmy obeyed. While he buckled on the heavy ( expensive ) piece of metal, four long near-transparent wings unfolded from fWhip’s back. They fluttered, sending dancing bits of rainbow across Jimmy’s face. fWhip nonchalantly rolled his shoulders and stretched the dragonfly-like wings for a moment before folding them back out of view.

“You’re a fairy?” Jimmy’s fingers fumbled the chestplate’s straps.

“Yes?” fWhip lifted an eyebrow like that had always been obvious. He stepped into Jimmy’s personal space again (Jimmy’s breath caught in his throat) and tightened the buckles. With a satisfied pat on Jimmy’s chest, he looked up to pin Jimmy with those piercing teal eyes. “Now. Listen, Jimmy. This is important.”

“I’m listening.”

“There is no ‘respawn’. Maybe some worlds are a bit more forgiving, but here, this is it. One chance is all anyone gets. One unfortunate run in with a creeper and you’re gone from this world permanently. I won’t be able to help you.”

“WHAT. Wait. What would happen to me?” Any burgeoning thoughts about unknowingly making another deal (Deal, capital D) with a fairy were squashed under the terror of this new information. fWhip couldn’t be serious, right? Sure, respawning wasn’t a common trait, but no one?

“I don’t know. I assume you’d get ejected into a new world. Or maybe your soul would be stuck here. Aside from your Fae, I don’t exactly get many world-hopping visitors, so I can’t say for sure.” fWhip patted Jimmy’s shoulder and added cheerfully, “So wear armor when outside the city. Pay attention. Don’t die. Sound good?”

“Yeah? No? I’ll do my best?” Jimmy waffled and was rewarded with a tinkling laugh.

This fWhip’s laugh wasn’t as raspy or strained as Goblin fWhip’s. Was that a fairy-goblin difference? Or was fWhip just happier in a world without Jimmy? No. That was stupid. He was big man Jim! fWhip was lucky to know him! Jimmy shoved away the unnecessary comparisons from his mind. There were more important things to think about. Focus!

No respawn? fWhip’s pensive hovering and odd protective touches. The brutally efficient way he cut down that pillager. The keen awareness of his environment. fWhip could Die-die?

A cold unfamiliar fear gripped Jimmy’s heart. This deceptively idyllic world with its magical trees and peace seemed all at once sinister beyond anything Jimmy had faced before. A honeyed trap. The Fae had sent him to his death. 

“fWhip. I can’t do this.” His breath came in short. “I want to go home. Now.”

fWhip finally stepped back, giving Jimmy some needed space to breathe. He pouted (of all things) tucking his hands into teal pockets and hung his head in a sad nod.

The rocky highlands and whispering birch leaves fell away as fWhip led Jimmy, hand in hand, back to Path. The fairy (Dragged behind fWhip, Jimmy could see his pink wings plainly now.) led him in a slow weaving waltz through orchards and flower fields.

“For the record,” fWhip said as they reached the final stretch to Path. “I think you can do this. I imagine it’ll be tricky, remembering to take precautions you’ve never needed before, but most people only have one life.”

Jimmy shook his head, his heart still pitter pattering in his chest. “I’m not most people.”

“Exactly!” fWhip squeezed Jimmy’s hand. “You’re determined and you’ve got me.”

No. Jimmy was the loser other emperors killed for fun. Jimmy was the donut who lost his armor every other week to some stupid fatal accident. Jimmy wasn’t powerful like Joel. He wasn’t smart like Pix. He didn’t capture attention like Oli. He didn’t have a family like Sausage. He wasn’t royalty like Katherine. Jimmy couldn’t even get his own deputy to respect him.

“And you’re good with people.” fWhip nattered on. “You landed in a new world and within a day, you found your way to me! The perfect guy to help.”

“fWhip, please.”

fWhip’s smile dimmed and they trudged the rest of the way to the manor in sullen silence.

“I’m going to visit the World Tree.” fWhip said as they entered Jimmy’s room. His rosy wings twitched, betraying his casual tone.

Jimmy opened a set of wide windows to a small balcony. He had to get some air circulating the room. The weight and warmth of fWhip’s breastplate over Jimmy’s shoulders reminded Jimmy how close to death he’d blindly stumbled and he wheezed through the tightness of his throat. “When will you help me get home?”

“I am. The World Tree isn’t called so for no reason. It’s connected to every part of this world. It can find you a way home.” After a pause, fWhip tossed a hopeful glance, but Jimmy didn’t know what he wanted from him.

“Thanks.”

This evidently wasn’t what fWhip was hoping for. His wings drooped and he fiddled with his sleeve for a moment. Then he hopped onto the balcony in a smooth flutter and grinned. “See you in a bit!”

fWhip sprang into the air and didn’t glide. He darted up like a hummingbird (or the Fae) and left a glimmer trailing behind him.

Jimmy stayed on the balcony as fWhip streaked away, the glitter of his wings shrinking until it became one with the shimmering light of the World Tree’s trunk. The fairy gone, Jimmy slumped against the balcony’s banister, drained to his dregs. This was a nightmare. And whatever sliver of usefulness he’d been hoping to obtain from accompanying fWhip this morning had backfired so entirely that Jimmy was restless with the urge to do something. Anything. To have a purpose here.

He hung his head and about had to leap over the banister to catch the Sheriff hat before it could fall from his head and flutter down to the plaza. Pulling back, he clutched the hat to his chest. He was the Sheriff. The Sheriff of Tumble Town, of the Empires (even if the others pretended otherwise). He had a job. He just couldn’t do it here.

Could he?

It struck Jimmy, he was standing in the only building that seemed to constitute Path’s government. And that Path was a city where not a single person could respawn. And that a wall and a couple watchmen was all that stood between all these people and certain death.

And that he was the Sheriff.

Chapter Text

Downstairs a meeting let out and Jimmy hesitated on the stairway. Path had so much more bureaucracy  than the empires.  A crowd of people trickled out, shuffling notes and bidding farewells. A lizardfolk with teal scales and long draping yellow frills held open the meeting room door for their coworkers. Jimmy clopped down the last few steps hoping he looked natural and confident. A tall blond elf woman glanced his way and dipped her head to mutter something to the lizardfolk.

The lizardfolk’s head whipped in Jimmy’s direction, bright green eyes and an open mouth. They abandoned their post and hoisted up the hem of their robes so they could intercept any other committee members who’d clocked his arrival, tail waving behind them.

Preemptively Jimmy extended a hand. “Howdy mamsir, I’m Sheriff Jimmy.”

The lizardfolk grasped it with both hands and enthused, “It’s so nice to meet one of fWhip’s friends! I’m Wiz!”

Jimmy grinned, but tipped his hat humble-like. He’d only been in Path for a night; he wouldn’t have thought it, but fWhip (this version of him anyway) was a friend, wasn’t he? “Lovely to meetcha. fWhip not come around City Hall much then?”

“Oh he’s friendly enough, but sometimes it feels like he only sees us as appendages to Path, leaves on another tree he tends!” They laughed. “Offworlders are different it seems. Here I always thought he got along with the Fae Traders because they reminded him of home.”

Jimmy chewed on that. Did she mean because fWhip was a fairy? Possessive anger curled in him. fWhip wasn’t like the Fae! He was on Jimmy’s side. For real, this time.

Wiz cheerily beckoned the tall elven woman over. “I represent the alchemist guild on the trade committee. This is Anima. She’s from the forestry guild.”

Anima didn’t shake his hand, but smiled. “Will you be in Path long, Sheriff?”

No. Maybe. He didn’t want to. Or rather, he didn’t want to be trapped here. But if he had a way home? fWhip was alone here. fWhip had his back here.

No, wait, hardcore remember? It was too dangerous here. 

Maybe he could convince fWhip to come with him to the empires?

“A few days.” Jimmy apologized. 

“A shame.” Anima offered her hand to Wiz. “I can deliver your notes on my way back.”

Wiz produced a thick stack of papers from the folds of their robes. “I’ll owe you!”

Wiz, as it turned out, was the best person Jimmy could have hoped to meet. They loved gossip and loved a new face to gossip with even more. Jimmy learned about the rivalry between the university’s inventors and Path’s safety inspectors. He learned about the sorry state of the hatters guild. There was a bit of a scandal, Wiz explained in hushed tones. They had who was who for any problem Jimmy could think up. The Barracks’ Captain Benedict was in charge of watchmen schedules and Dockmaster Syd Blocky coordinated with most guilds for foreign trade, making her one of the best connected persons in Path. 

There weren’t laws for all of Path, rather each guild and organization had its own rules and the committees were born out of convenience and a need for clear communication. It all sounded needlessly complicated and lawless to Jimmy.

“Wouldn’t having one person in charge be simpler than this spiderweb of give and take?” Jimmy rubbed his temple.

“Simpler, for sure!” Wiz bobbed up and down. “But Path did quite well by itself since its last monarch abdicated. You’d be hard pressed to find anyone wanting that system back, simpleness aside.”

Jimmy left the conversation hours later with a list of names and location for the head of the hatters guild, the donkey express, the farming guild and the captain of the watch all scribbled on a piece of parchment. His ideas to improve Path wouldn’t be as easy as making a deal with an emperor, unfortunately.

Path’s barracks were unassuming; if the guard on Jimmy’s first day hadn’t pointed it out to him, Jimmy may not have found it on his own. Inside, the entryway had muddy scuffs and the far hall was lined with armor-stands holding a mishmash of hats, cloaks, and netherite. The first floor was deserted as far as Jimmy could tell, so he pulled himself up a creaky flight of stairs by the banister. He rapped the back of his hand against the frame of an office, the door cracked open wide enough Jimmy could hear shuffling papers.

“Come in.” a deep voice called.

Jimmy stepped into the room and a man in a wrinkled grey uniform, yet immaculately combed black hair, set down a quill. The wall behind the man’s desk displayed a detailed map of Path, colored pins pressed into various points along the city’s border. 

“Captain Benedict?”

“Captain Ov Benedict of the Watch.” Benedict nodded and gestured to Jimmy. “How can I help you?”

“I’m fWhip’s guest, Jimmy. I wanted to speak with you concerning the Watch’s patrols.”

His eyes widened in surprise. “You thinking of taking up a post?”

“More like a free consultation.” Jimmy inspected the map behind the captain. Based on the colors of the pins and how they were grouped, they marked hostile mob sightings.

The captain sucked on his teeth for a minute before acquiescing, “Wiz said you’re a Sheriff.” 

Jimmy was silently impressed with the speed of Path’s gossip train.

The Captain leaned back in his chair and turned to the map as well. “You see something I’m missing?”

“Yes.” Jimmy pointed to the north gate on the map first. “Pillagers could overrun Path from here. The city’s gates are undermanned and the guards don’t inspect anyone coming or going.”

Captain Benedict chewed the inside of his cheek, skeptical. “fWhip made a Deal with them. They haven’t come far enough east since then to cause problems.”

“They attacked us yesterday!” Jimmy scoffed. “You can’t trust a Pillager to respect a deal like that for long.”

Benedict pursed his lips, but nodded. Jimmy was wearing him down! Maybe.

“Not to mention there’s no guards inside the city. What about common thieves? Or black market dealers? I heard about what happened with the Hatters guild.”

Captain Benedict shook his head and lifted a hand to stop Jimmy. “Guild business typically isn’t under our purview.”

“Isn’t it?” Jimmy leaned, bracing his arms on the table. “It should be. If a committee can’t resolve a conflict, who keeps the peace?” 

Then Jimmy recalled a genius tidbit from his conversation with Wiz.  “Not to mention, if the watch enforced guild guidelines, the committees wouldn’t be so bogged down!”

Benedict set his jaw. Uh oh, Jimmy was losing him.

“Respectfully, Sheriff, the watch is dedicated to defending Path against monstrous threats. We’re not a, what, policing force?”

Jimmy ground his teeth. All things considered, the captain wasn’t being respectful enough . This would help Path! Make it more like Tumble Town! Like how Jimmy wanted all the empires to be! 

“fWhip thinks it's a good idea.” Jimmy lied.

“You discussed this with fWhip?” His tone wasn’t skeptical now; it was curious.

Right. People here respected fWhip.

“Yeah! Yeah, he’s very busy though. So he sent me to explain it.” Jimmy nodded, maintaining eye contact with the captain. “We think this will help. We think it's worth the effort.”

Captain Benedict sighed and rummaged about his drawer for the roster. “The watch tends to be a side gig. Something to keep busy with after retirement or a way for students to earn extra emeralds. Not many of them will want to work longer shifts.”

“You never know! Hire more if you need ‘em.” Jimmy had won the argument. “When the inner city guards make a good impression, you could get more funds from the Guilds.”

Jimmy and the captain hashed out a few more details before Jimmy said his goodbyes. He stopped several more places and found, over and over, dropping fWhip’s name into the conversation did wonders for getting his boot in their doors. Sussing out Path’s bad trade deals from Dockmaster Blocky? fWhip is worried and asked me to check in . Encouraging the donkey express to collaborate with the watch when steeds went missing? fWhip is heading a new city project! Wheedling a depressed hatter into starting a line of Tumble Town ™  hats? fWhip loves my hat, by the way .

In the end, fWhip found him that evening on the city hall patio sipping at a strong approximation of a mojito. “You’ve been making friends.”

“Huh?” The drink(s) had done the work of leaving Jimmy a wee bit tipsy and he smiled involuntarily at fWhip’s face.

“I barely made it back here with how many people stopped to ask me about you.” fWhip began unloading a pair of plates onto the patio table from a food tray Jimmy hadn’t noticed. “You met Wiz.”

“I got bored.” Jimmy lied.

“Ah, well. I’m glad you weren’t hiding in your room the whole day.”

fWhip set down the tray, displaying several steak and veggie kabobs and a large loaf of bread, its center filled with beet soup. There was also a small steamy pie. Spiced berry filling spilled around fWhip’s knife as he served a slice onto Jimmy’s plate.

“I wasn’t sure if you got yourself lunch.” fWhip shrugged.

Jimmy’s mouth watered. He hadn’t noticed he was hungry. The savory and sweet smells of the food mixed together and Jimmy tore into a kabob. The meal became a blur of hearty warm satisfaction. fWhip said something and Jimmy laughed, almost spilling a spoonful of soup. Between dipping chunks of bread into the soup and polishing off the pie, Jimmy’s fingers and mouth were stained red by the end.

“I wish you’d stay.”

Jimmy was changing into a nightshirt and blinked. He looked up and realized fWhip hadn’t left the master bedroom yet. fWhip looked startled, so Jimmy glanced around to see if there was another fWhip who might have said it. When he looked back, the door was clicking shut.

Jimmy hung the Sheriff hat on the bed’s headboard, dropped fWhip’s chestplate in the closet and this time, as he fell asleep, it was pink dragonfly wings and not a smooth gold badge that haunted his thoughts.

“Morning!”

“Guh?”

“Wakey wakey!”

Cozy warmth was torn away and Jimmy groaned. He squinted around trying to recover his stolen blankets, but fWhip was still holding them, a broad grin on his face.

“I had an idea! We should go talk with the Fae Traders.”

“It's too early.” Jimmy tried to tug the blanket out of fWhip’s hand, but fWhip simply traded the blanket for Jimmy, pulling him off the bed.

Oi. Someone that short shouldn’t be that strong. 

fWhip handed Jimmy a white tunic with teal flower embroidery along its collar and hem, as well as a pair of soft tan trousers.

“They’re at the morning market. C’mon, get dressed. I’ll buy you breakfast from one of the stalls!” Then he was gone again.

Jimmy flopped back onto his mattress and sighed, holding up the new clothes for a bleary inspection. It figured this fWhip was a morning person. Goblin fWhip kept strange hours too.

Jimmy blinked at the glittering chestplate across the room, the start of a headache behind his eyes. fWhip said he only had to wear the armor outside the city. Did he trust that? Jimmy still hadn’t gotten to use the elytra… He fished his hand into his inventory and plucked out the elytra. Jimmy wasn’t a coward (He trusted fWhip).

The streets weren’t as crowded as Jimmy’s first day in Path, but he thought there were still far too many people out and about for how early it was. Eventually the clatter of donkeys and handcarts blended into the burbling of a canal and Jimmy reached the East Gate. The smell of fish and algae wicked off the water. The wharf was lined with factories, winches, and beyond the river and ship sails, on the far shore, squat houses bristled with banners, stalls, and hollering: the market.

“Boat or bridge?” fWhip paused on the pier and hooked a thumb north to a bridge emerging from the shadows of the city’s clifface.

“Boat.”

fWhip skipped down to a tied off rowboat. He climbed in and held out a hand like Jimmy was some prissy princess. Still a bit grumpy about being dragged out of bed, Jimmy ignored him and clambered into the boat on his own. The wood rocked beneath his weight and Jimmy flailed. fWhip caught his wrist and pulled him down onto the bench. 

Then he handed him an oar. The trip was short, but they still bickered about who was better at rowing the entire way.

The market (like everywhere in Path Jimmy was finding) was overflowing with plants, crafts, food and smiling faces. fWhip bee-lined for a pastry stall with syrupy sweet steam billowing from behind a gauzy curtain. Jimmy picked out a savory pork bun drizzled in rosemary honey and fWhip got a nutty roll smothered in peaches and cream.

A group of miniature fishfolk grilled frog legs under a reed woven canopy. An elf draped in long ribbon fabrics braided children’s hair. A minotaur unloaded small crates of produce from a donkey as her calf fed it a carrot.

As they ate, Jimmy’s headache began to clear. The deeper into the market they walked, the more scattered the stalls became, making room for carpentry items and large woven baskets.

Jimmy mentally paced through what he wanted to say to the Fae. Send me home. How dare you do this to the Sheriff. Get out of Tumble Town. How would fWhip phrase it? So it sounded clever and right. Like how goblin fWhip sounded in the Courthouse or when he wrote out those signs threatening Jimmy.

“Here we go.” Fairy fWhip wiped his hands off on the front of his tunic.

Off to the side of a field, buried in a wild tangle of mushrooms and ferns was a tent and table. Glass bottles clinked and chimed, hung from the tent like rippling chandelier chains. A pair of pale masks bobbed around a bubbling cauldron. Two Fae, one stirring, the other ladling the pearlescent potion into empty bottles.

“Fae.” The word was sour in Jimmy’s mouth. The mental speech he’d been cultivating evaporated. His elytra flared out in time with his temper.

“Traders!” fWhip beamed at the fairies and waltzed up to the wild patch, twirling an emerald around his fingers. “I heard you know my friend here!”

Over the Fae’s curious jingling response Jimmy accused, “I thought you respected me.” 

The Fae masks tilted in his direction and their wings winked at him. One darted out from the tent’s shade and Jimmy flinched as they twirled around him, chiming.

He grabbed his hat and swiped at the air. “Hey! Back up, luv!”

“They’re asking if you liked their gift.”

Jimmy looked back at fWhip, who’d begun idly sorting through the potions on display. What was he doing shopping at a time like this?!

“Did I like it?!” Jimmy shouted and jabbed a finger at the expressionless mask. “You stole me! I’m the Sheriff! I belong in Tumble Town!”

The Fae jerked back, then burst out a dissonant clatter. Jimmy’s head swam and he lowered his hand blinking. His back itched. The Fae wings. They were back. He could feel them pushing against his shirt and elytra. He couldn’t—A hand clapped onto his shoulder.

Jimmy gasped in a breath. The wings, the itch, was gone and his head was clear. fWhip stood by his side and smiled with all his teeth.

“Jimmy paid his debt. It was a fair trade. How many Fae entered his world exactly?”

The Fae retreated behind its table and tinkled. fWhip hummed thoughtfully and tossed an emerald over.

Then he tipped his head to glance at Jimmy, giving his shoulder a light squeeze. “Anything else?”

“If they aren’t going to help me get home, then I have nothing to talk to them about.” Jimmy tipped his chin up so the Sheriff hat’s brim didn’t hide his glare at his abductors.

With a nod, fWhip turned to go, steering Jimmy along with him, hand still on Jimmy’s shoulder. Jimmy let out a sharp angry breath. fWhip has his back. Shoulders down, chin up. Don’t let them get to him. He’s the bloody Sheriff.

The Fae chimed behind him, soft, like a small bell on the end of a tassel, but without those translation books, it was just meandering music to Jimmy. 

fWhip had a full body flinch, like he’d been struck, and whipped around. Jimmy watched fWhip’s mouth move, but couldn’t see how the heavy brassy clamor that rang in his ears had come from fWhip. fWhip snatched Jimmy’s hand and tugged them both away from the Fae, wings vibrating with agitation.

“What?” Jimmy looked over his shoulder, but he couldn’t see the overgrown tent anymore, lost to the market. “What did they say?”

“It was rude.” fWhip’s tone was a familiar angry clip that Jimmy hadn’t heard since… goblin fWhip defending him from Joel outside the toy barn.

“Well now you have to tell me.”

“Ungrateful.”

“Huh?”

“They called you ungrateful.” fWhip whispered.

Right. Okay, yeah, it was rude, but fWhip acted like that was a swear . Fairies are weird, Jimmy decided, much like goblins. 

Still he leaned closer to fWhip and asked, “What’d you say back?”

“I told them insulting my Guest was an insult to me .” fWhip said smugly.

Jimmy laughed. “Oooo! Busted!”

The walk back to the dock went quicker than the way out. The sun was out in full force now, fishfolk slipping into the river and villagers waving reed fans to their faces. The noose around Jimmy’s neck felt looser: he wasn’t going to die here, fWhip wasn’t going to abandon him.

“I forgot to ask; How did your visit to the World Tree go? Did you figure anything out?”

fWhip avoided Jimmy’s eyes, a habit Jimmy recognized. fWhip didn’t want to answer. 

But he scrunched up his freckled face, then sighed, “Yeah. I found you a way back. It's a bit far; we’d have to visit the End, but you can go if you want.”

Oh. OH!

Jimmy beamed and flung his arms around fWhip’s neck. “Thank you! Thank you! You’re incredible! Why didn’t you mention it sooner?”

When Jimmy pulled away, fWhip’s face was bright red. Jimmy dug his fingers into fWhip’s tunic and, before examining the bubbly feeling in his chest, leaned in to give fWhip a peck. fWhip’s eyes went wide and his wings flicked up from his back.

Jimmy let go and forced a laugh. “Sorry, habit! A thank you kiss.”

“Go flying with me?” fWhip’s voice cracked.

“Huh?”

“If you’re leaving, I don’t want you to go before you’ve gotten to see anything. I know it seems dangerous, but we can be careful. It's just such a shame for you to be here and not see the world!” His words came out in a rush.

For an instant, Jimmy’s gut instinct was that fWhip was making fun of him. “I don’t have rockets.”

fWhip’s face flushed red again. He slowly covered his face with his hands and crouched on the road. “You don’t have rockets.”

“Do… you have rockets right?” Jimmy asked uncertainly.

“Yes, I have rockets!” fWhip shouted into his hands. “I forgot to give them to you! I thought you were—I’m such a bad—No, I’m a great Host who’s Guest is happy and safe and here’s some rockets. I definitely didn’t forget to give you any. That never happened.” He dug out a couple stacks of multicolor paper rockets from his inventory and pressed them into Jimmy’s hands.

“I ain’t saying nothing.” Jimmy said around a snicker (and a thrill: rockets, fWhip, flying). “What do you want to show me first?”

“New Papyrus. Then the dwarven kingdom. Oh! Oh, the race track!” fWhip’s wings whirred, lifting him onto his tip-toes.

Jimmy scraped his nail across a coated rocket wick, friction lighting it and filling the air with the homesick smell of gunpowder. The rocket launched Jimmy up. His elytra snapped open, catching the breeze and himself from plummeting back down. Wind tugged at Jimmy’s shirt, a laugh bubbled up, and he reached for another rocket.

A moment later, fWhip corkscrewed around Jimmy before leveling out beside him in the wide open blue. He had a wide grin that matched Jimmy’s as the breeze ruffled his ginger hair. The view up here was something else. The World Tree’s canopy was still above them, but now Jimmy could see the City of Path in its entirety. A lake below the university Jimmy hadn’t noticed before. An observatory perched along the mountain range. A castle silhouette near the west horizon. Beyond that, a distant ocean shoreline. 

fWhip pointed in the direction of the ocean and said something, but the wind snatched his words from his mouth before Jimmy could make them out. He nodded anyway and found himself rushing to catch up with fWhip as he zipped off. Snatches of words whipped passed Jimmy as they flew, presumably fWhip narrating various landmarks. They were following the river to the sea, where Jimmy could just make out ships sitting in the glitter. 

“New Papyrus is a port town, right?” Jimmy called.

fWhip glanced back at Jimmy a couple times before he waved a hand and veered down to an overgrown path carved against a valley. Jimmy made slow circles as he carefully lowered himself to the ground. The plants around the path were wild, but the path’s stones were well worn and clear of debris. A trade road?

fWhip pushed his hair back. “Sorry, I've never had to hold a conversation mid-flight. It's a bit tricky. What were you saying?”

Jimmy was about to answer when all thoughts of ships and rivers sank. Three gravestones were tucked amid weeds along the cobbled path. Worn, but still legible were three names. Sausage. Joel. Jimmy.

Jimmy had never seen his name on a grave before. It felt a bit like peeking behind a curtain and seeing something he wasn’t meant to. He crouched down, brushing long grass back so he could see the date.

“Ah,” fWhip said to himself.

After a solemn moment of silence, Jimmy found his voice. “You had a Jimmy. Like I have a fWhip. Gods, I guess I shouldn't be surprised I didn't make it.”

“You have a fWhip?”

Jimmy pulled his hand away from the engraving and stood.

fWhip touched his lips, then sighed, “I take it, you two are close?”

“No. Not anymore. Maybe never.” 

fWhip’s gave that a considering frown. 

Jimmy winced. Best not pull him into that mess.

“Not gonna lie, I like you better.”

fWhip’s eyes widened.

“I can’t stay.” Jimmy adjusted the Sheriff hat on his head and paced to either side. “But Tumble Town will keep for a couple more days. Maybe, we could find a way to visit each other.”

If Jimmy wanted the changes in Path to take, he should do some follow-up before leaving. If Path was in a better state, fWhip might even consider coming with Jimmy. It only made sense.

“Careful what you wish for.” fWhip grinned. “The easiest way for us to visit each other would be to use the Fae’s world as a bridge. Are you ready to be back in their good graces?”

Jimmy balked. “Nevermind. Nevermind all that. Let’s see this Paper Place.”

“New Papyrus!” fWhip took him by the hand and they shot back into the clouds together; Jimmy’s stomach swooped and, leaning into Jimmy’s ear, fWhip asked, “Ever seen a blue axolotl?”

Chapter Text

Elytra made criss-crossing a continent in a day possible, but that didn’t make it light work. Not to mention round after round on the horse track. Jimmy collapsed into his massive bed and didn’t rise until late in the afternoon the next day. If fWhip stopped by earlier, Jimmy was still out like a light. Now the fairy was off doing gardener things. Presumably. That seemed to be this fWhip’s specialty. Maybe he’d spare some magic for Tumble Town’s fields once Jimmy convinced him to stay.

Jimmy washed his face, scrounged up a meal from the kitchen, and ambled out into the perpetually dappled light of Path. Jimmy’s plan to gift fWhip proper law-enforcement was the trickiest of his endeavors, so he headed for the barracks.

Stepping inside, he was surprised to see a young guardswoman hunched on a stool. Her armor had dust in its seams, sword discarded between her feet, and she was pressing a handful of snow with her glove against a large discolored bruise along her jaw. Jimmy winced as she glanced up through black bangs with puffy eyes at him.

“That looks pretty nasty.”

She shrugged one shoulder, voice raspy. “It looks worse than it feels.”

“Well you have that at least.” Jimmy made his way to the staircase, but the girl piped up again.

“Cap’s not in. He got pulled into a committee meeting after… the whole…” She waved her free hand at her face.

Jimmy’s forehead pinched and he sat on the bottom step. “The whole…? What happened?”

“A fifty pound bag of potatoes.” She adjusted the snow on her tender jaw and sniffed. “She said he stole it. He said it was his to begin with. I got involved before a guild rep could get called, since this was the sort of thing the new patrols are supposed to fix, right? 

No one wanted to listen to what I had to say about it. I’ve never had to mediate like that before and I must have done something wrong because next thing I know I’m on the ground and everyone’s yelling worse than before.”

“Cap pulled me out of there and told me to sit tight while he dealt with it.” Her voice was wracked with far too much shame, considering she’d been the one felled by a bag of potatoes. “I’m so fired.”

“No way,” Jimmy assured. “It was your first day. The good ones will respect your effort. The others will learn to respect the watch soon enough.”

He pulled up a stool beside hers and held up a finger. “Some advice from the sheriff before me: If you want anyone to respect your authority, you have to command it. Speak with your chest.”

“I don’t know…” She dropped her hands in her lap.

“You didn’t get ‘em this round, but you’ll get another chance. Try it next time you’re chasing criminals.” Jimmy lightly patted her back and stood. “I’ll talk with Captain Benedict for you. He’ll understand. I promise.”

“Thanks.” Her eyes were getting misty now, so Jimmy excused himself.

He looked on Path with new eyes as he returned to City Hall. Just as he’d thought, guilds weren’t enough. These people needed proper lawmen. Everyone’s a criminal. That was a lesson from the Old Sheriff that Jimmy knew well in the empires. He’d been naive to think that Path might be any different.

Jimmy waited in the wings of the main hall. If he knew which room Benedict was in, he might have knocked, but as is, it was better to wait.

After a good (excruciating) ten minutes, Jimmy heard a heavy click from a large door and fWhip walked out from one of the meeting rooms. 

Odd. Jimmy hadn’t thought he went to committee meetings much. He was dragging his hand through his ginger hair when he spotted Jimmy watching him. He didn’t smile.

“I need to talk to you.”

That didn’t sound good.

“Right. We can talk.” Jimmy stepped close and whispered, “What are we talking about?”

fWhip didn’t immediately answer, instead steering Jimmy by the arm down the hall into a cramped office. He closed the door behind them and Jimmy sat on the desk that took up most of the floor space.

“What did you do?” fWhip was still facing the door.

 Jimmy couldn’t tell what the fairy was thinking from his tone. “What do you mean?”

fWhip whipped around and slammed his hands to either side of Jimmy on the desk. His voice was deliberately slow, eyes icy. “I need you to tell me what you did . The guilds are at each other’s throats and the watch—I don’t even know where to start with them. And they all seem to think I have something to do with this mess. Benedict mentioned our new sheriff helped coordinate the new patrols. Path doesn’t have a sheriff. So spill!”

The back of Jimmy’s neck heated. Ah. He was hoping to get all the kinks of his plan worked out before presenting it to fWhip. It's as if Jimmy walked in on Joel mid-building that giant ‘best buds’ mural. The polite thing for fWhip to do is pretend he didn’t see anything and let Jimmy finish his gift. 

“It's just—the gates’ guards are so lax out there. And there’s meetings every hour of the day in here. I thought the watch could help streamline some things.”

“By setting armed guards on civilians? The watch are not trained negotiators or statesmen!”

“They can handle criminals, fWhip!” Jimmy flicked an exasperated hand to the side, wishing there was space in this room to pace. “Guild laws can’t be enforced if the lawbreakers aren’t caught!”

“And what, stuck in iron cages like animals?”

“Like jailbirds. Because that’s what they are.”

fWhip dug his nails into his hair. “Why were you meddling in Path politics to begin with!?”

“You gave me all these gifts and I wanted to return the favor. I was helping!” Jimmy tried.

“They didn’t need your help!” fWhip snarled. “We don’t need a sheriff, Jimmy!”

Jimmy’s mind went terrifyingly blank for a moment before he came back to himself gripping his badge on his chest so hard the gold points started to bend. fWhip’s words were a punch to his gut.

Jimmy punched back, rising from the desk to tower over fWhip. “H-how would you know? You don’t do anything! I offered to help out and I said you sent me! Everyone was so shocked! fWhip? Actually doing something for the city besides digging in the dirt and talking to trees? Of course they need me!”

fWhip’s frantic furious energy froze. His sharp teal eyes cut into Jimmy. “You said what?”

“I told them—”

fWhip cut him off in a breathy voice. “You told them I sent you?” The fairy started to shake. “I should hang you from the World Tree.”

Horrified, Jimmy shriek-laughed, “You’re overreacting!”

“You’re a Bad Guest! ” fWhip snapped back with a shocking amount of vitriol. 

It stretched and sharpened fWhip’s features into a fox-like snarl. He’d never looked more inhuman. Some abstract creature was bursting from his bones and trying to crawl out his skin. His wings were beating so fast his hair whipped up and a shifting multitude of wings seemed to coalesce around him. Jimmy could see the resemblance between fWhip and the Fae now.

Jimmy scooted back into the desk. There were no windows. This room was too small.

fWhip whispered. “I wanted you to stay . I could keep you safe here. I could make you happy. I have everything you could ever need. All you had to do was take it . I gave you gifts! And you tried to break what I’d built here. You lied . So you should go.”

He turned, opened the door, and was gone.

Jimmy stood alone in the claustrophobic office, stunned. That was—That wasn’t fair! He strode after fWhip, chasing him outside City Hall. “Hold it. Hold on. Give me—give me one second, alright?”

Instead fWhip flew into the air and Jimmy was forced to waste precious time digging in his inventory for rockets to follow him. Jimmy tailed him to the bottom of a bluff amid Path’s orchards. fWhip slid into the open mouth of a cavern and Jimmy landed on the cool blackstone behind him. Bits of amethyst glittered in the walls, bouncing the clack of Jimmy’s boots down the tunnel.

“Let me explain.”

“You already did!” fWhip snapped.

“Then you weren’t listening!” Jimmy shot back.

The cave opened up into a massive geode, amethyst clustered around a rippling nether portal. Instinctively, Jimmy stopped short. Nether bad. Nether very bad. 

But fWhip marched into the portal and glared at Jimmy. “I heard enough.”

The image of fWhip swam and faded, leaving Jimmy alone again. 

Right. New plan. He hadn’t liked Jimmy’s gift, but fWhip cared about guests and gifts and gratefulness. It was the thought that counts, right? The Fae got a free pass for stealing Jimmy, so Jimmy should get a free pass for meddling!

Jimmy stepped into the nether portal, holding his breath as the magic made his stomach drop. Once the purple light stopped swimming in his eyes, Jimmy stood — in a garden? Instead of red skies, lava, and netherrack, Jimmy stood in a steamy green garden. Sandstone and prismarine arches formed a glowing amphitheater around ice roads and mossy planters. If it weren’t for the oppressive heat, Jimmy would have doubted he was in the nether at all.

Jimmy flew up to regain his bearings. Bedrock fanned out around the ice road spokes and in the center of the circular garden, instead of a fountain, a fiery pit revealed the nether below. This was some sort of nether roof hub, but unlike any Jimmy had seen. 

Gliding above one of those ice spokes, Jimmy spotted fWhip’s pink wings and dived after him. The fairy was heading toward a different nether portal. Did he think if he just ran long enough, Jimmy was going to give up? Jimmy slid across the ice and hopped into the portal beside fWhip.

“Stop running and talk to me!”

The portal spit them out in an open cavern, full of hanging vines and glow berries. Crumbled ruins, coated in moss and ghostly after images of ancient buildings, lay around them in heaps. fWhip started to pick his way through the world’s memories and Jimmy stomped after him.

“I thought you’d like my gift, fWhip. I wasn’t trying to ruin your work. I wanted to show you I was grateful!”

fWhip slowed, allowing Jimmy to walk beside him. “So I should just forgive you?”

“Yes!”

“Like you forgave the Fae Traders?”

Jimmy groaned. “It wasn’t like that! I can help fix it. We could fix it together.”

fWhip began climbing down cracked steps into the dim underbelly of the ruins. Jimmy’s eyes took a moment to adjust to the dark. fWhip stood beside a glittering pool of stars. Oh, this was a stronghold.

“Path has had enough of your help, I think.” And fWhip stepped backward into the pool.

Jimmy let out a frustrated scream. Why were fWhips always so unreasonable!? Jimmy scowled at the portal for a moment. fWhip clearly intended to send Jimmy home. But leaving on such a sour note didn’t sit well with Jimmy. Things had been going so well! He thought this fWhip was different! Someone that wouldn't abandon Jimmy at his first stumble...

Taking a deep calming breath, Jimmy waded into the portal.

Stars and glowing galaxies spun around him. A brilliant canopy put them all to shame. The tree. Jimmy knew this tree and its teal twisting bark.

“I’ve been here.” Jimmy breathed.

The only difference Jimmy could see was where this tree’s trunk split open. fWhip stood under one such natural awning and glanced over his shoulder, waiting. Jimmy watched his step along the roots as he caught up. If he fell in this void, would he die? Or would he land in Path’s harbor again? Inside the center of the tree, a natural staircase spiraled around a pulsing black fountain.

“I’ve upheld my end of our Deal,” fWhip said matter-of-factly. “This portal can take you home.”

“I don’t—Come with me!” Jimmy looped his hands around fWhip’s.

fWhip tried to pull back, but Jimmy tightened his hold. “Please. Come with me to Tumble Town, fWhip. It needs your magic more than Path does.”

fWhip yanked his hands free with disgust. “If you knew me at all. You’d never have asked that.”

“Am I wrong?”

fWhip took a steadying breath, a shimmer of purple in his eyes. “Jimmy. Leave.”

“No! Talk to me!” Jimmy wanted to stomp his feet like a child. He didn’t want this to happen again. He wouldn’t be the common denominator to two ruined friendships. It wasn’t his fault!

fWhip twitched with surprise, wings flaring behind him, like he hadn’t expected Jimmy to just refuse. Typical high and mighty fWhip to think Jimmy would roll over and be walked over.

“Sheriff?” fWhip muttered.

Something about his tone made Jimmy bite his tongue. He sounded like goblin fWhip again. Was this the first time this fWhip had called him Sheriff? 

Realization spread over fWhip’s face and Jimmy didn’t know what epiphany the fairy was having, but he pressed on. “I’m sorry I lied! Okay!? I’m sorry! Tell me we’re still friends.”

fWhip closed his eyes and sighed. He reached out and held Jimmy’s face between his hands. He looked sad. Was he having doubts? Was he going to forgive him? Jimmy leaned into it, mentally chanting please please please . 

“ Sheriff Jimmy. Go home .”

Magic, the same strange blurring of Jimmy’s senses that inflicted him when the Fae stole him away, flushed through his veins. The world was numb and Jimmy’s heart was on fire. From far away he saw himself back away from fWhip, whose hands stayed extended like he was cupping something precious. Jimmy turned and stepped into the black galaxy in the End Tree’s heart.

Jimmy stepped into a meadow. Teal saplings sprouted from the ground in a wide ring about him. The moss and clover within the fairy ring was peppered with ferns and forget-me-nots. Thick teal vines stretched skyward. Beyond the ring, Jimmy could see the red sand of the mesa.

Small floating creatures manned warped stem stalls stacked with bottles and enchanted arrows. They wore smooth wooden masks, with thick moth-like antennae unfurled from beneath them, framing it like magenta flower petals. They looked around the size of a small goblin. Their bodies were concealed by a thousand fluttering, iridescent black moth wings, each layered over the other like a bird’s feathers.

“What are you?” Jimmy blinked in the sunlight, puzzled.

The creatures kept their distance, but one held up a nugget of gold to another and chimed in a familiar tune. Wait, were these the Fae? How did—Jimmy couldn’t remember how he got here. The Fae were—They said they had a gift? He stepped over to the table of goods, but there was no book to translate.

He squinted at the blue sky above him. No, this wasn’t right. He was going somewhere. He needed to talk with someone, but who? He was missing time; an aching hole in his mind that he kept tracing the edges of like the gums of a missing tooth.

Jimmy stumbled his way down the mesa into Tumble Town, ignored the boarded-up shop from another villager leaving, and found the Old Sheriff slumped over the saloon bar. Jimmy ordered himself an ale, but it tasted like ash down his throat. He sat there trying to make sense of the longing ache in his chest. He needed to be somewhere that wasn’t here. He halfheartedly shook the Old Sheriff’s shoulder, but the old man just muttered to himself, blowing sour breath in Jimmy’s face. Sighing, Jimmy sipped at the awful ale just for something to do, until the Old Sheriff finally woke from his stupor and plucked it from Jimmy’s hands.

“Old Sheriff, I’ve got a problem.”

“Looks to me like you got a solution! You aren’t a child after all. You’re all grown up!” the Old Sheriff chortled into the drink and winked at Jim.

Jimmy started, nearly falling off the bar stool. “I’m big?”

“Well, let’s not get ahead of ourselves. Average-like more-like. Your pixie wings are gone, too.”

That must have been what the Fae meant by a gift! They broke Joel’s spell! Jimmy grinned for a moment, before groaning. “My wings are gone?”

“Yup. Look like a proper sheriff now! No offense.”

“That’s…” This wasn’t right. He needed to find… someone. “Stick with me here, but maybe we should leave Tumble Town.”

The Old Sheriff drained the last of the ale and turned to face Jimmy. “Leave? 'There some kind of bug going around? First that goblin king peacing out, now you wanna relocate? What's wrong with Tumble Town?”

“Hold it, peaced out? What do you mean?” Jimmy rubbed his face.

Goblin fWhip wouldn’t leave. That made no sense. The Old Sheriff tumbled on in his roundabout way of talking. Clearly fWhip had stopped by at some point, but nothing in the Old Sheriff’s message sounded like him. fWhip didn’t call himself a king.

“Now you tell me what you meant.” the Old Sheriff leaned on the bar.

Jimmy rubbed his neck. “Just, it feels like I’m supposed to be somewhere else. Tumble Town’s—let’s be honest—it's on its last legs. I tried my best, but it's been one bandit raid away from a ghost town for a while.”

“Well you’ve convinced me! Two cowpoke roaming with nothing but horses to ride, skies to see, and barrels of beer!” He raised his empty tankard to Jimmy, who worried (not for the first time) about that man’s liver. “Here’s to somewhere else!”

Jimmy smiled back, tapping his finger on the bar, fighting the compulsion to move, to be gone, to find what was missing. “To roaming!”

Maybe he’d stop by Gobland on his way out. Find what message fWhip actually left him.