Chapter Text
Impulse was painfully, bitterly, human. Just a normal guy, with normal hair and normal eyes and friends that were anything but. Even Mumbo, who he'd thought to be his one human companion, turned out to be something different. Something special.
When it had finally been revealed to the knights that Mumbo was, in fact, a shapeshifter, no one was really surprised. With the amount of non-humans in the group, and magically gifted ones besides, it was only a matter of time before Mumbo revealed that he was obviously, not human.
While they were all joking around and laughing over Mumbo's newly revealed ability, Scar had turned to Impulse with that friendly smile of his and asked, “So, when are you gonna reveal your super secret backstory to us, Impulse?”
Impulse had laughed off the pang of bitterness and guilt combined (and how stupid was that, feeling guilty over the fact that he didn't have a special ability or secret backstory to reveal?) and shook his head. “Nah,” he had responded with a shrug, “I'm just a guy. Just Impulse.”
Just a guy. Just Impulse.
Simple words that had become a mantra over the past few days, lingering in the back of Impulse's mind. A whispered chant, just audible enough to catch his attention but hardly loud enough to deserve a shushing. They were an apt description of what he was– of who he was, of course, and Impulse knew that. He had known that all his life, and, up until this point, had convinced himself that he was fine with that.
(He never had been ‘fine’ with it in the first place. It’s why he trained from dawn till dusk for years, honing his strength and skills. He couldn’t fly, couldn’t breathe underwater, couldn’t withstand a fiery blaze, and most certainly couldn’t teleport. But he was smart, and he was strong, and that was enough. Wasn’t it?)
Mumbo was good with redstone, too. He was a genius, even. What with his constant inventions and how he thought outside of the traditional redstone conventions, and the way he brushed off any compliments with a wave and a soft, “It’s quite simple, really.”
Impulse’s mother had told him that everyone was special. That they were all made up of stardust and the love of the universe. It was an old wive’s tale, but it had been comforting.
Now, surrounded by shapeshifters and avians and magical beings, Impulse was wondering if the universe forgot to give him a little stardust.
The sun had just begun to rise, bathing the world in its golden light, as Impulse got dressed and headed out to the makeshift training area to work on his swordplay. It wasn’t long before he was hacking away at one of the many training dummies the knights had made together in an effort to “work on their arts and crafts skills”, going through the familiar motions of a swordfight.
Just a guy. Just Impulse.
He’d always wondered what it was like to fly. To dive deep into the ocean, without fear of drowning. To never feel the terrible pain of burns, or to get to where you wanted to be instantly.
Just a guy. Just Impulse.
It wasn’t like being a human was bad. Not at all! Being human was great! He didn’t have to worry about getting hurt by the rain, or his wings being targeted in battle, or, void forbid, being hunted for sport. He could do so much as a human!
But it wasn’t enough. Not anymore.
Just a guy.
Sweat dripped down the back of his neck as he continued fighting, his breaths coming in short pants. In his mind’s eye, the training dummy was an enemy, and it was his job to defeat it. Slicing and stabbing and slashing, Impulse went back and forth in a dance all his own, in a battle that held no weight on the future.
Just–
“Impulse?”
Pulled from his reverie, Impulse stumbled to a rather clumsy halt, his sword arm falling to his side as he looked over for who called his name. Standing at the edge of the arena was Pearl, leaning against the little wooden fence that surrounded it. She wore a bright smile as always, but something akin to concern shone in her eyes, barely hidden.
“Huh?” Impulse got out, before blinking and shaking his head. “Sorry, Pearl, I uh– I didn’t see you there. Were you calling me?” His muscles were aching, and he was absolutely drenched in sweat. Just how long had he been training for?
Pearl nodded. “Yeah, mate. You were fighting that dummy with the intention to kill, huh?” she joked, gesturing to the very much falling apart training dummy. She continued, “You were training for a while. Lost in your own world, were ya?”
Impulse glanced up at the sky, internally wincing at how high the sun had climbed without him noticing. “Yeahhh…” He laughed, scratching the back of his neck. “Kinda got caught up in my own thoughts, y’know.” He looked over at the training dummy. “Uh… sorry, mister dummy,” he apologized awkwardly, which Pearl found hilarious judging by her soft laughter.
“You should come get some breakfast and wash up,” Pearl advised, “I’m heading to the village in a bit to pick up some stuff– do you wanna come with?”
Impulse shrugged, before walking over to where Pearl was and hopping the fence. “Sounds like fun, and I don’t have anything else planned.”
Pearl grinned, and gave Impulse a fistbump. “Great! I’ll go get the horses ready, if you wanna go eat and change real quick?”
“Will do!” Impulse gave her an over the top salute. “Thanks, Pearl!”
He began to head back to his tent at a slow jog, and decided that maybe it was best if he ignored that soft voice in his head. His friends were incredibly perceptive, and the last thing that he wanted was for them to get all worried about him and start asking questions.
Would they judge you? Call you jealous?
Maybe. And maybe Impulse was jealous, at least a little. Did that make him a bad person? For wishing he could be more than what he was? For hoping that he had some chance at standing on the same level as his friends?
Impulse tried to shake those thoughts out of his head as he quickly scarfed down some breakfast and changed out of his sweat-soaked training clothes. Pearl had just finished with getting the horses ready by the time Impulse returned, and greeted him with a smile. “Ready to go?”
Impulse returned her grin as he mounted his horse. “You know it. Road trip time!”
The trip to the village was a short but pleasant ride through the forest, on a well-worn path the knights had traveled many times. Impulse and Pearl made idle conversation as they rode, Pearl mentioning that she wanted to stop by a couple of shops and the library. They arrived at the village after about thirty minutes and dismounted, tying their horses reins to the hitching post before grabbing their bags and walking into the village.
Impulse had been here before, of course, but visits had been rare recently with… well, everything that had happened. It was nice to get back out and just walk through the village, without any life-threatening or world-ending danger looming over their heads. And as a bonus, he got to hang out with Pearl, which he always enjoyed.
They went through the shops one by one, Pearl picking up supplies and things they had run out of. Eventually, they were finished, and Pearl pulled Impulse rather excitedly toward the library. He didn’t blame her– he was the exact same way around candy shops. Everyone needed a place that they were excited to go to, in his opinion.
The librarian– a woman with messy black hair– looked up from behind the counter and greeted them with a nod, before going back to reading her book. Impulse caught a glimpse of the name tag that was pinned to her shirt, the name ‘Evelyn’ written in neat cursive.
Pearl led Impulse into a room full of bookshelves and, of course, books. “I’m going to go look for some books,” she whispered to him, “you can go off and see if there’s anything that catches your eye.”
Impulse nodded. “Alright. See you in a bit,” he whispered back, and watched Pearl disappear into the maze of bookshelves.
Looking around, Impulse began to wander. The library was well stocked with literature on nearly every subject he could think of, with golden labels on the end of every bookshelf to indicate what the books in that particular section were about. He found himself walking past the shelves that normally would’ve had his attention– books about redstone and industry ignored as he gazed at the shelves.
Finally, a particular bookshelf caught his eye. The label told him that the books here were about all things supernatural, and with a shrug, he began to walk through the aisle. Most books seemed to be rather thick, scholarly texts, which made sense given the topic. A couple books drew his attention– an old book with a faded purple cover and block letters that spelled out Evolution in all capitals, a book on curses, and a book that probably had been misplaced, given its title– The Legend of Theseus. The mythology shelf was right next to the supernatural one, so Impulse took the book and brought it back to where it was hopefully supposed to be.
Once the book was back in the mythology section– next to a very old book with a cracked spine and strange symbols on the cover– Impulse headed back to the supernatural section, glancing over the titles with relative disinterest until a particular book caught his eye. He bent down and carefully took it from the shelf, instinctively brushing off the cover and flipping it open to the cover page. Skimming the summary of the book, Impulse found himself nodding along to the words.
He closed the book and glanced around. Pearl was nowhere to be seen, so he likely still had some time. Tucking the book under his arm, Impulse walked back to the main room of the library, placing the book on the counter. He cleared his throat awkwardly, and Evelyn looked up from her book. “I’d like to check this out, please.”
Evelyn took the book, looking at the spine and writing down something on the sheet in front of her. “An’ what’s your name, sir?” she asked, not looking up from the sheet.
Impulse blinked. “Ah– uh, Impulse.”
Evelyn wrote his name down, before setting her red feather pen down and handing him the book. “Alright, sir. If you’d please return this by the end of next month, and no writin’ or rippin’ any pages out unless you wanna pay for it.”
Impulse took the book and placed it in his bag with a thank you, just as Pearl returned with her collection of books. She gave him a smile, which Impulse returned– albeit a little nervously.
As they were walking out of the library, Pearl asked Impulse if he had seen anything he liked. Impulse answered with a shrug and a shake of his head. “Nah. I’m not much of a reader.”
Something must’ve spooked the horses while they were gone, as Impulse’s horse was clearly nervous when they returned. He calmed the horse down with a bit of petting and a treat Pearl had bought for their horses before mounting up and beginning the journey back home.
It was a little past noon when they returned, and they were greeted by Scar and a barely awake Grian. Mumbo was busy working on something, but he soon ran over to say hi and help with the supplies and horses.
The rest of the day went by as normally as it could– it was a calm day for the most part, the only “mishap” being Grian stealing Mumbo’s rocket launcher as revenge for drawing a mustache on him while he slept. They all ate dinner together as they usually did, and after, Impulse left to go to his tent.
Finally alone and in the quiet, Impulse took the book out from his bag, brushing his fingers over the title.
The Art of Summoning - Demons.
He opened the book.
Obviously, a book given out at a library wasn’t about to teach him how to summon a demon– void knows he didn’t want to do that, anyway– but Impulse had always been fascinated by demons. He had been told a lot of stories as a child, which probably was the reason for his interest, but there was also… something else. He had been drawn– pulled to this book, almost. As if by magic, or something.
…some demons can grant their summoner a wish– whether it be super strength, speed, or even flight, there have been records of people making a contract with a demon for their own benefit. When asked why, many of their answers were similar. They wanted to be unique, or special, and had become desperate.
That… sounded familiar. Impulse pressed his lips together in a thin line as he continued to read. He obviously wasn’t desperate enough to summon a demon– he doubted he would even be able to if he wanted to! Which he didn’t. Because that would be crazy.
As he went to turn the page, a sharp pain shot through the tip of his finger. Impulse sucked in air through his teeth as he yanked his hand away, examining the fresh papercut. “Oh, come on…” He shook out his hand, annoyed, before going to flip the page.
As soon as he touched the book, Impulse found that his fingers were almost glued to the page. He couldn’t pull away, couldn’t pull the book off his hand, though he tried frantically to do so. It was then that he noticed a small bead of blood had welled up from the cut, and smeared on the page when he had gone to flip it again.
That… was probably bad.
Just as he was considering calling for help, a soft voice spoke up in his mind. Not soft enough to be inaudible, but not loud enough to be quieted.
Hello.
Impulse tensed up, looking around the tent. “...I didn’t mean to summon you,” he began, “assuming you’re…?”
A demon? The voice was… quite pleasant, actually. Not like anything Impulse had thought a demon would sound like. Yes, I am one. And you haven’t summoned me. Just drawn my attention. I’ve been trapped in this book for quite some time, you see. It’s been a long while since anyone has opened it.
“Why were you trapped inside the book?” Impulse asked, still on edge. “What did you do?”
Well, that’s rude. The demon sounded as if it were pouting, as if Impulse had offended it. I didn’t do anything. I just… It sighed, and its voice took on a tone of loneliness. I was young when I came to this world. I… wanted to be different, I guess, from the rest of the demons. Everyone had this cool thing going for them… one could curse multiple people at once, one could take human form, and everyone else… had something that made them special. I didn’t. I’m just your regular ol’ demon, residing in your thoughts.
Impulse frowned, settling the book carefully on his lap. “So… why did you get put in the book?”
I’m getting to that. I… got excited. I wanted to show everyone that I was special, too, by cursing someone. I didn’t really think things through. The demon paused. I don’t even want to curse someone, anymore. I just want to go home.
“I’m… sorry…” Impulse began, “that sounds really rough.” He sighed, leaning back slightly. “I get it, though, as crazy as that sounds.” He briefly debated on whether or not he should tell someone– a demon, no less– about what he’d been going through. “I’m… the only human in my friend group,” he started, hesitant, “and it’s just… I’ve always been just a guy. Just Impulse. And no matter what I do, I’ll never be able to change that.”
There was a moment of silence, and Impulse could almost feel the demon thinking. Well… maybe you could. Maybe, we could both help each other out.
Impulse’s brow furrowed. “What are you thinking of?”
I know, you were against summoning demons earlier, but… hear me out, okay? I could tell you how to summon me, and not only would that free me from this book, but I could also maybe grant your wish!
The demon sounded… genuinely so excited at the prospect of being freed. Being trapped, all alone, for however long it had been, must’ve been really difficult. Impulse didn’t blame the demon for wanting to be free. He would want the same thing, were he in the demon’s position.
…and maybe, just maybe, a small, selfish part of him spoke up and influenced his reasoning. But Impulse closed his eyes, took a deep breath, and sighed. “Alright. I’ll help you. Tell me how to summon you.”
Excellent choice! Alright, first things first, you’re going to…
Impulse was painfully, bitterly human.
He refused to be just Impulse forever.