“Fell asleep on the southbound car, eh?” A burly tanned man in a heavy fur-lined grey coat and wide-brimmed white hat took my hand in his, shaking vigorously. He was the one who had woken me up from my sleep once the train arrived. Sheriff Ryke, he called himself, him and his thick Texan accent. He was the only one in town who had such an accent. He claimed I fell asleep on the wrong train and was the sole passenger, but that couldn’t have been correct. I even had picture evidence of myself in front of the packed cars before I boarded the eastbound continental. The train in question was definitely not a steam train like the one I woke up in. I’m hyper-specific when I travel. But there I was, talking to the sheriff of the appropriately named ‘Southtown.’

“Last time any of you showed up was some three years ago. Irregardless, welcome to your new home, stranger!” He shook my hand for what had to be almost two minutes, maybe longer, before he let go and motioned for me to follow him into town. The place looked… off. Dust stung my eyes every few minutes, the sun heated the paved sidewalks to the point it hurt through my shoes, and everyone wore clothing suited for snow rather than sun. Even in a simple loose tee, I was sweating within minutes of leaving the train. The roads were dirt lined with the buildings which were a mix of wood and concrete. The people rode everything from horses to carriages and even cars newer than my 2015 Lancer. Hell, I still don’t fully understand this town and I more or less run the place.

We walked and talked for a while before stopping next to the sheriff's office, one of the concrete buildings. “The last fella to join our corner of the world took residence up in the building on the hill above town, but that was the last available home… So, I’ll make a call or two, set you up in somebody’s guest room for a few weeks, and have a shiny new house made specially for you in no time. Good with you, stranger?”

“A new home? No, no I’ll just be heading back on the southbound once it comes back tomor—“

“Pardon my manners! I haven’t even asked you your name, stranger. So, What do ya go by?” Talking to Ryke is always a test of patience even on a good day. Doubly so for that first conversation.

“I… it’s Jace, but I won’t be staying longer than a day so please don’t worry about it.”

“Nonsense! That’s what they all said, but each an’ every one of our guests spent a single night and decided to spend their lives here.” He placed a hand on my shoulder and tried to bring me in for a hug. I pulled away. His grip was shockingly powerful, not that my spaghetti strength was doing me any favours.

“I would really, really like to leave tomorrow. Can you tell me—“

“Hey, Ryke! That a new guest you got there?” A tall woman strolled up to us, the first person I had seen who was appropriately dressed. She wore a beige hat over long blond hair, a hat similarly styled to Ryke’s, and a loose brown vest over a blue tee. Her skin was dark on top of an appropriately heavy tan. If it were a movie, I’d have thought she was the real sheriff.

“Sure is, Ranger. I gotta find him a place to stay while we build a new home for em.” Ryke said.

“No need, Ryke. You’ll be rooming with me tonight, friend.” Supposedly, I’m the only one who knows her real name. But at the time I thought she just went by her occupation.

“We couldn’t put you out like that! I’ll make the calls and find someone, but if you’d be so kind as to show him around town, that’d be mighty helpful.” Ryke pulled in Ranger for a hug and pat her on the back.

“You got it, boss.” She gave him a thumbs-up, turned to me, and smiled. Something was wrong with her smile, or maybe it was her bright blue eyes. They made me feel unsafe. “So friend, what’s your name?” She tapped her hand against my arm and began to walk away.

“Uh, it’s Jace. I woke up on a different train than the one I got on. Though I don’t think Ryke believes that.” I wiped the sweat from my forehead, she must have noticed as she took a water bottle off of her belt and tossed it to me. I fumbled the catch.

“Careful who you tell the real story, friend.” Her warning took me off guard, the situation was certainly weird and uneasy but I didn’t think it was outright hostile. She stopped walking to warn me before continuing a few seconds later. “My house is up on the hill, I’m sure the boss mentioned me by now. I was a pretty big deal for a while there when I first arrived. Name’s Ranger, by the way, that wasn’t just a title.”

While we walked I couldn’t help but notice the passersby staring at us, at me. It wasn’t just glances, they would stare me down until we got out of sight. They weren’t discreet about it either. If I had spent any more time there, I likely would have had to fight off a panic attack. Ranger told me not to worry and that they’d get used to me by the end of the week, I once again insisted I wouldn’t be there long. She just gave me a ‘hm’ and went silent. I have yet to meet a single person in this place who has given me a fine first impression.

Main street was shockingly busy, with plenty of people walking, shopping, and rebuilding; it looked like a tornado had run through town. Buildings had missing walls, broken windows, and plenty of recent repairs done to them. Strangely, no less than four of those buildings were animal clinics even though I saw no animals. In the centre of town is the main attraction. A massive floating green rock bobbed several feet off the ground, with several far smaller rocks placed around town, resting on the ground. It was awe-inspiring, honestly. Not so much now though, just thinking about it makes me feel anxious.

Eventually, we arrived at her house up on the hill. The house was nothing special, just a decent-sized log cabin, but behind it, the hill continued up into the clouds. That portion was not visible from below. Ranger showed me into her home and to the guest room before sitting me down in the living room. The cabin was homely, dim lamps and a fireplace lit up the living and bedrooms, as well as the kitchen and washroom, covering everything in an orange-tinted blanket. The walls were spotted with paintings she had made, most of them fantastical land and cityscapes.

“Phew. Now, friend, tell me your story. Why are you here?” I told her the long and short of it. From getting on the eastbound continental to visit my sister, to my time on the train, and waking up here. She nodded, and then there was silence.

“So…”

“Friend, I’m going to bet my life on yours. This town is only the tip of the iceberg, and I got urgent business far below so I need you to help me. You gotta blow up the giant crystal in town square while I’m gone. This is a matter of life and death, for more than just us.“ I would have been shocked and refused had I the time. A knock on the door was followed by a slam, forcing it open. Sheriff Ryke stormed in.

“Ranger, I have an urgent job for you. Sorry stranger, I’ll find you a place before the end of the day.” He gave her little chance to argue or decline, gripping her arm tight as he walked with her back outside. She pleaded to me with her eyes as she was forced away. And so I sat there, tasked with committing what may as well be a terrorist attack on a town I had just arrived at. The thought of it all made me weak, to the point that I passed out on Ranger’s couch. In retrospect, it’s no surprise they stare at me even to this day.