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hopepetal · 1 year

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Part Eight!

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@applestruda

CW: broken bones and blood

Many thanks to Elle Periwinklemoonlight for giving me several ideas for this chapter, and Mochi for helping me with some of Mumbo's dialogue <3

Mumbo had always liked sunsets.

He'd never been that big a fan of sunrises. Don't get him wrong, they were pretty and all! But the only times he had been awake to see the sun rise at all was when he had been up all night working on some sort of contraption. The early morning light had forced its way through any crack it could find and pulled Mumbo's attention away from his work, alerting him to the fact that he'd lost track of time and was about to have a very bad day.

(Look, his stomach was sensitive! If he didn't get enough sleep, he'd get all nauseous and lose his appetite the next day. One would think that would be enough of a reason to not stay up all night, but there was a difference between being smart and making smart decisions.)

Anyway! Where was he? Oh, right. The sun. Fascinating thing, really. Some might even call it essential! Most people would, actually. Mumbo certainly did.

Sunrises had always been something Mumbo only saw every once in a while, and dreaded every time. The first rays of light peeking over the mountains were a taunting reminder of one's folly. And with the rise of the sun came the song of the birds, declaring in their high pitched tremolo that it was time to wake up and go about one's day.

Scar had asked Grian what the birds were saying once, over their lovely lunch which was actually just breakfast for the late risers. Grian had given him the most deadpan stare Mumbo had ever witnessed (and that was saying something– he'd known Doc, after all). “Just because I'm an avian doesn't mean I can understand the birds, Scar.”

Scar frowned, giving Grian a confused look. “You can't lie to me! I just heard you talking to the chickens, mister.”

Grian's look became much more pointed. “What chickens, Scar?” he asked sweetly, in the tone that held threats hidden under the surface.

Scar's eyes widened almost comically as he immediately tried to backtrack. “Oh! No! Nooo, no chickens here. None at all! What chickens? I've never seen a chicken. Ever.” He looked over at Mumbo, before leaning forward and stage-whispering to Grian, “I think I fooled him.”

Mumbo had chuckled nervously, scratching the back of his neck. “Scar, I'm sitting right next to you,” he pointed out.

Scar blinked. “Oh. Well! Nonexistent chickens aside, Grian, you still haven't told us what the birds are saying.”

Grian had stared at Scar in silence for a full five seconds before sighing deeply. “They're laughing at me for not getting enough sleep to deal with this.”

“See!” Scar smiled triumphantly, looking over at Mumbo. “I told you he could talk to birds!”

“Pretty sure he's just lying, mate.”

Grian lazily waved his spoon in the air. “I don't know what you're talking about, Mumbo. I never lie.”

Scar's eyes shone. “Now, if my time as a businessman has taught me anything, it's to tell when someone is lying. And that, my dear Grian, was a big ol' lie.”

Grian's eyes narrowed, almost imperceptibly. “I'm going to bite you.”

“That's a lie!”

Grian then lunged across the table and tackled Scar to the ground. Mumbo shrieked, nearly falling off the bench with them. “Oh, goodness, don’t break the man, G!”

Grian didn’t even have a chance– Scar pinned him to the ground with a triumphant whoop, laughing as Grian squawked and flapped his wings helplessly. “I win! Haha! You are not immune to the good times!”

“What does that even mean?” Grian shot back, unable to stop himself from laughing. “Scar, get off me!”

Scar stood, brushing the dirt off of his pants. “Aww, G, now I’m all dusty! Dusty and sweaty! Eugh!” He moved to take his shirt off, and Grian shrieked.

“Scar!” Grian shot up and smacked Scar’s hand. “Put your clothes back on!”

Scar whined, pouting slightly. “C’mon, G! I didn’t even take anything off”

Mumbo groaned, putting his head in his hands. “I miss Impulse and Pearl.”

Sunsets were different.

Mumbo… didn’t really know how to describe it. In the same kind of way people liked going to bed more than they liked waking up, Mumbo enjoyed sunsets far more than he did sunrises. Sunsets were calm, whereas sunrises were frantic, harried. They were a declaration of the day ending, and that rest would come soon. They were an end to the scorching hot temperatures of the summer and a prelude to the cool kiss of the night’s breeze against his face. Not to get all poetic and everything, but they just were nicer.

He enjoyed how the sky would be painted in oranges and pinks and purples, and how slowly the knights would gather together on the more clear nights to sit under the stars and talk. He enjoyed how in those moments they were all at peace and happy, and how they cared so deeply for each other it felt less like a group of friends and more like…

Family.

That’s what it was.

Sunsets reminded him of family.

Not this sunset, though.

As the sun slowly set, and shadows grew to cover the whole land, Mumbo felt… different. As he rode alongside his fellow knights (his friends, his family), he couldn’t shake the feeling of urgency that usually accompanied the rising of the sun, rather than the fall. This sunset was not something of love and rest.

This sunset felt like a warning.

They were running out of time. As the clock ticked, as the sand fell through the hourglass, a sense of impending doom settled over each one of the knights. Mumbo, in his often anxiety ridden state, was no stranger to the feeling that sat tight in his chest and caused his heart to race, tearing air from his lungs in sharp gasps.

Scar, riding near him, glanced over and saw the poorly concealed panic on the man’s face. Urging his horse closer, he got Mumbo’s attention with a soft ‘psst!’

Mumbo startled, torn from his thoughts as he so often was. He met Scar’s gaze and gave him a nervous, half-hearted smile. Scar could, most likely, see past any pretense he was putting up. The man was good at what he did– good at reading people, good at looking for certain nonverbal clues that cued him into what the person was actually thinking. “Hey, Scar.”

Scar reached out, holding the reins in one hand as he gave Mumbo a pat on the shoulder. “You doin’ good? You’re not looking so hot.”

Mumbo sighed, looking away. “I’m… I dunno, Scar. I just… goodness. This whole thing is so… it’s overwhelming, Scar. What are we even supposed to do?” He laughed, a tense sound. “It’s– it’s just… it’s not something we can just… it’s not simple, Scar. We can’t just solve it with some redstone, or some crazy invention– this is so big. And I don’t– I don’t know how to fix it.”

Scar pressed his lips together into a thin line. The setting sun cast long shadows over his face, the little light remaining creating dappled patterns on his skin as it filtered in through the trees. He thought for a moment before speaking. “Mumbo, you don’t have to know how to fix everything. You know that, right?”

Mumbo let out a strained laugh, his grip on the reins tightening slightly. “Well, Scar, mate, isn’t that kind of… my job? You know, brilliant redstone inventor over here, coming up with solutions is my whole thing. It’s not like I could… well, I have to make up for my lack of physical prowess somehow.”

Scar shook his head, chuckling softly. “Oh, Mumbo, Mumbo, Mumbo. I’ve been there! I get you, I really do. You know, back in the day, I had a bit of a job myself. I was a businessman, Mumbo Jumbo! And a very good one at that. And my job was to sell things to customers! And…” he frowned, cutting himself off sharply. “I don’t know where I’m going with this. Man, Cub’s so much better at this than me.”

Mumbo felt himself relaxing slightly, the tension slowly being let out of his body. He smiled, giving Scar a half-shrug. “Cub has a lot of skill, that’s for sure. Plenty of experience to go along with it, as well.”

Scar nodded, and let silence fall over them for a moment before taking in a deep breath. “So, Mumbo, what I was trying to say… I guess, you don’t need to solve everything? I mean, none of us have any clue what we’re doing. Kinda.” He thought for a moment. “That’s not it. What I’m really trying to say is that we’re all in this together? It’s not your job specifically to figure it out alone. Impulse is our friend, and… we all really care for him.” His voice trembled slightly as he finished, eyes darkening. “I hope he’s safe.”

Mumbo furrowed his brows, concern shining in his eyes as he looked over at Scar. “You doing alright, mate?” This whole thing had been hard on all of them, but something seemed… off… about Scar.

Scar blinked, and shook himself out of whatever sort of trance he had been in with a slight jerk of his head. “Oh! Yes, don’t you worry, mister. I’m doin’ just fine over here! Just thinking about the scolding I’m gonna give Impulse when we get back home.” He flashed Mumbo a bright smile, and Mumbo let it rest.

He knew that smile was forced. He knew when the cheerful persona of Scar’s came out to play. He knew, and yet… what could he do? Mumbo wasn’t good with words. He was probably the worst out of the knights when it came to social interaction, and that was saying something given they were practically hermits outside of the occasional job they’d pick up and shopping trips.

So Mumbo did what he did best.

He let his body go on autopilot, and got lost in his thoughts.

At the front of the group, Grian and Pearl were talking in hushed voices. Grian remained stubbornly in his watcher form, despite Pearl’s insistence on taking a break and letting his eyes rest. He’d given her a look, feathers rustling irritably as she spoke. “Stop nagging me, Pearl. Gosh, you’re starting to sound like Timmy.”

She let out an indignant sound, glaring at him. “I am not! And it’s not nagging, mate, you’re going to give yourself a headache with all that looking!”

Grian scoffed, looking away. “It’s called watching, thank you very much. And you’re the one who’s gonna give me a headache, with all your talking! I know what I’m doing Pearl, I’m not a baby.”

“Well, you’re acting like one,” Pearl shot back. “I’m right here, Griba. You don’t have to be hyper vigilant, or whatever it is you’re doing.”

“And what happens if I don’t?” Grian snapped, his voice dropping slightly. “What happens if I lose sight of the demon and Impulse, what if–?” he cut himself off, taking a deep breath, “Pearl, I need this,” he admitted, voice low. “If I don’t keep my focus on this, I think I’ll go crazy, Pearl. I’ll get all… you know me, Pearl.” Desperation seeped into his voice. “I don’t– it doesn’t matter if I get a headache or strain myself or, anything, really! But I can’t…”

Pearl sighed. “I know. I know, Griba. I’m just worried. About you, about Impulse, about this whole Watcher thing, about… well, everything. It’s just such a big mess, y’know? And we’re all tangled up in this big web and…” She laughed, shaking her head. “It’s pretty overwhelming. Just… we gotta also take care of ourselves, mate. We won’t be able to do anything if we run ourselves ragged before we even get to Impulse.”

Whatever Grian was going to say in response was interrupted by the sound of rattling bones and an arrow flying right by his head, narrowly missing. He shrieked, wings flaring out as the horse beneath him startled. He grabbed the reins and pulled back, stopping the horse from bolting, though it still took a few steps forward.

“Skeleton!” Pearl called out, though the announcement was unneeded. “Stay on your guard!”

The undead’s bones creaked as it came into view, appearing from under the trees. Normally, along more well-traveled paths, the surrounding areas would be lit up enough to stop the mobs from spawning, and the frequent patrols would be enough to discourage them from wandering too close. Unfortunately for the knights, they were traveling through an uninhabited area with no path in sight. They could handle the mobs just fine, but it certainly made traveling a little more difficult.

Scar drew his crossbow, fingers brushing over the enchantments carved into the material, and nocked a bolt. “I got it!” He drew the bolt back and fired, the skeleton collapsing into a pile of bones with a rattling groan. “Yes! Hotguy strikes again!”

Grian would’ve rolled his eyes if he could. “You and that Hotguy thing, I swear…” His feathers began to settle back down, and he folded his wings behind his back. “Right, then. That’s probably our cue to stop for the night.”

“We’re stopping?” Mumbo asked, slightly confused. “Why?”

Pearl sighed, dismounting. She gently stroked her horse’s neck before answering Mumbo. “As much as we’d love to get to Impulse as soon as possible, we can’t be riding through the night. The horses are tired, and we need time to rest and recuperate as well. I…” She looked over at Grian, watching him dismount as well. “I don’t want to stop. I really don’t. But we have to.”

Scar nodded. “Makes sense! Gotta be our best selves if we’re gonna deal with that demon guy!” He dismounted, Mumbo following a moment later. “Mumbo and I can go light up some of the surrounding area while you two make a fire and deal with the horses?” he suggested.

“Good idea. You have those…” Pearl gestured vaguely with her hand, trying to think of the word. “...magic torches? The fancy ones, so ya don’t burn down the whole forest?”

“I never leave home without them!” Scar grabbed Mumbo’s arm. “Come on, Mumble Jumble, time to light up this forest!”

Mumbo yelped as he got dragged away, casting one last terrified glance at Grian and Pearl before disappearing into the woods with Scar.

“I swear,” Pearl chuckled as she dealt with the horses, “he never loses energy. I’ve rarely ever seen that man get tired.”

Grian busied himself with clearing a small area for a campfire, using his bird-like feet to help dig up the grass. “Scar’s… definitely something,” he agreed, shaking the dirt off his talons before hopping (not walking– hopping) awkwardly over to a tree, his wings flapping slightly to help balance him. He began to snap some smaller branches and twigs, gathering them in his arms. “Dunno what we’d do without him. Without any of them.”

Pearl smiled sadly, giving one of the horses a soft pat before walking over to help Grian with his task. “Barely feels like any time’s passed at all, yeah? Since we first met in that old town.”

Grian laughed at the memory, shaking his head. “You’d just crashed into the ground. Still had no clue how to use those wings of yours.” He glanced at the colourful moth wings that were folded delicately behind Pearl’s back.

She was scared, Grian could tell. Wide eyes that were the same blue of a storm-promising sky and filled with barely held back tears. She was scraped up and bruised from her fall, the wings trailing behind her seeming unnatural and unwieldy.

Grian didn’t ask questions. She needed help, and that was all he needed to know.

Later, he would hear stories of feathered golden wings, carrying Pearl through the sky alongside her flock. He would listen in from behind a door that hadn’t been completely shut as she told Jimmy what it was like to soar high above endless fields of sunflowers and wheat, racing her flockmates at speeds she would never again be able to achieve.

Grian and Jimmy had lost their flock when they were young. It was no wonder that Jimmy was interested in Pearl’s memories of her flock, who had treated her with kindness and love. Flockless avians were often unable to defend themselves and died without the protection a flock was supposed to provide.

Jimmy and Grian had been lucky enough to find an old town nearby, with inhabitants who were more than willing to let them in. They’d made a life for themselves there, when Pearl had come crashing into their lives.

“I broke my leg,” Pearl recalled, wincing slightly at the bittersweet memory. “And you and Tim helped patch me back up. And then I just never left.”

“I’ve cursed that day ever since,” Grian joked, yelping when Pearl elbowed him. “Hey! Not cool!” he squawked as Pearl giggled softly. “I wonder how Tim’s doing right now,” he added after a moment. “Do you think he misses us?”

Pearl raised her eyebrows. “Grian, we do visit him. He’s doing just fine, you saw for yourself. Got a whole new bunch of friends and everything!” She examined Grian’s face. “Oh, you’re not upset he didn’t join us, are you?” she teased lightly. “You know Jimmy would hate the outdoorsy life we’ve got going on. He’s perfectly comfortable where he is.”

Grian sighed, turning and hopping back to the area he’d prepared for their fire, beginning to place the sticks down. “Can you grab some rocks?” he asked, “I hate not being able to fly. Walking is so hard.”

Pearl laughed, setting her sticks down near Grian before starting to search for smaller rocks. “You do look cute though, hopping around like a little birdie. Oh, don’t give me that, you know it’s true!”

“It’s humiliating is what it is,” Grian muttered, “Mumbo and Scar are never gonna let me live it down.”

“Good!” Pearl chirped, bringing back the stones she had collected to make a circle. “You deserve it, honestly.”

Mumbo’s shriek rang out through the forest, startling the two. Grian nearly fell over from how much he jumped, eyes going wide from shock. What made the shriek more concerning was the explosion that followed soon after, and Pearl was about to charge off into the woods before Scar yelled, “Just a creeper! We’re good!” his voice tiny from the distance.

Pearl shook her head, sighing softly. “Those two are going to give me gray hairs early,” she murmured fondly.

“You’re not the only one,” Grian muttered, earning a laugh from Pearl. “What?”

“Maybe if you’d stop being such a scaredy cat–”

“I am not–!”

Despite their bickering, they were able to get the fire going before Scar and Mumbo came back, looking a tad singed but none the worse for the wear.

“Area is successfully lit up!” Scar proclaimed. “We should be safe from all the spooky things out there now. Should be.”

“We’ll set up a watch nonetheless. Better be safe than sorry,” Grian decided, as Mumbo and Scar joined him and Pearl at the campfire. “I’ll go first, because there is no way you’re waking me up once I’m out.”

“I’ll go second then,” Mumbo volunteered, “if no one else wants to,” he added after a moment.

Pearl shrugged. “I’ll take the third shift, then, and Scar can go last?”

“Sounds good to me!” Scar agreed, and the knights fell into silence.

As the makeshift campfire crackled softly, spitting sparks into the night sky, the knights lingered for a while around the small source of warmth and light. For a while, there was a somber sort of quiet hanging over the group– silence settling in the empty space that Impulse usually filled.

Grian, still in his watcher form, leaned forward to gaze into the fire, light reflecting off eyes as black as the night sky. Scar glanced over, and despite everything, had to suppress a giggle.

Clearly, he didn't do that very well, and Grian looked up at him with a slightly confused expression. “Are you alright, Scar?” he asked, and Scar couldn't hold it in anymore.

He giggled, reaching out and patting Grian's face. “You look like a kitty cat!” he exclaimed, “with your big ol' eyes and everything!”

Grian blinked. “I'm sorry, what–”

Pearl started laughing. “I guess we didn’t have to worry about them being scared by our other forms then, huh!”

Grian’s face flushed a light pink, and he shooed them all away. “Oh, go to bed! I’ll wake you for your shift, Mumbo!”

The other three dispersed, laying out the sleeping bags Pearl had thankfully thought to pack. Better to be over prepared than under, in her opinion.

Sleep came surprisingly quick, though it seemed like she had just closed her eyes when she felt Mumbo’s gentle hand on her shoulder, waking her for her shift. Pearl blinked away the sleep in her eyes and quietly thanked Mumbo, before taking a seat by the slowly dying campfire.

There wasn’t much to do during a night watch, other than to sit alone with her thoughts. And that’s exactly what Pearl did, until she thought of something too important to leave floating in her mind.

The plan was for Grian and her to expel the demon from Impulse using their own magic. But where would the demon go after, when it had been forced from its host?

Pearl quietly walked back to her sleeping bag, opening the small pack she had set beside it. She rifled through the contents for a moment before pulling out a small, clear cut crystal. She’d gotten it so long ago she’d forgotten how it came to be in her possession, but it would work just fine for what she was thinking of.

Walking back over to the campfire, Pearl shifted into her watcher form, holding the crystal in her hand. Sitting down, Pearl closed her eyes and breathed in deeply, feeling the magic of the world around her. Another breath, to feel the magic buzzing in her veins. In and out, once more, and she began to imbue the crystal with her magic.

It was a simple enough task. All Pearl needed to do was prepare the crystal to bind the demon to it with her magic. Once the demon was expelled, it would be a simple enough task to pull it into the crystal. And then, as long as she kept checking on it from time to time and strengthening the binding magic, the demon would remain sealed away.

Deep breaths. In, and out.

Pearl let the magic flow through her and into the crystal, caught up in the feeling of casting. She didn’t do it often, not like this. It was nice to finally use her magic again. She didn’t even realize how much time had passed until she felt a hand on her shoulder, and Scar’s quiet voice in her ear. She opened her eyes to look at him, continuing to cast as she did. “Oh! Scar!” She kept her voice down, aware of how close they were to the two who were still asleep. “You good, mate?”

Scar nodded. “I think it’s time for my shift,” he explained, glancing toward the sky, “and also, I felt your magic. Whatcha doin’, Pearl?”

Ah. She had lost track of time, then.

Pearl finished casting, tucking the crystal into her pocket. “Just makin’ a lil magic crystal thing. For later,” she explained. “Sorry for not waking you up. Or… kinda waking you up? Since you sensed my magic and all? I guess?”

Scar shrugged, smiling slightly. “Nah, don’t worry about it. I got plenty of rest. Which you should probably try to do as well. Big day tomorrow.”

Pearl stood, shifting out of her watcher form. “Right, then. Have fun with your watch shift, Scar. And I’ll do my best. G’night, Scar.”

“Good night, Pearl.”

The morning came too quickly, and not quick enough at the same time. There were few attempts at conversation as the knights began to break down camp, kicking dirt over their small fire and packing up what little they had taken out. Grian, who had shifted into his “normal” form to sleep, shifted back into his watcher form and took a minute to relocate Impulse and the demon.

“I can’t see him, exactly,” Grian explained to Scar and Mumbo. “It’s a bit blurry, I guess. I know where he is, I can see the magic around him, but I can’t really make out small details like his face. I don’t really know why, but that’s just how it works.”

“Sooo… like looking through a really bad spyglass, then,” Scar concluded, earning a sigh from Grian. “What? I’m right!”

“I guess,” Grian admitted as they mounted their horses, “but that’s kinda like comparing a bow to Mumbo’s rocket launcher. They do kinda the same thing, but one’s a lot more complicated and powerful.”

Scar hummed thoughtfully. “I see… well, as long as it works!”

Grian remained in his watcher form as he led the tense ride through the forest. The sky above was streaked with clouds that occasionally would cover the sun and cast the land below into shadow. As the knights got closer to their destination, the trees began to thin out, promising open fields up ahead.

“You’d think he wouldn’t have gotten this far,” Grian muttered to Pearl, “but humans have so much endurance. It’s fascinating. And somewhat annoying.”

Pearl hummed softly, her gaze fixed straight ahead. “I’m worried for his health. I’m honestly doubting the demon cares too much for Impulse’s well-being, and I don’t think it has to deal with the negative effects of what it’s putting Impulse’s body through. If that makes sense.”

Grian nodded, his eyes focused not on what was in front of him but on something– someone– far away. “Demons don’t feel exhaustion or hunger, do they?” he asked, speaking mostly to himself.

“I think some do,” Pearl answered, “but not this one. Since it’s only in the blood, y’know? And it’s only borrowing… Impulse… so that’s not it’s… well. Body, I guess.”

Grian suddenly stopped, causing Pearl’s horse to almost run into his. “We’re dismounting here,” he called back to the other three. “Impulse is just up ahead, in the fields beyond the treeline.” He dismounted carefully, tying the reins to a sturdy branch. “Right. Let’s go over the plan one more time. We’ll find Impulse and confront the demon. Pearl and I will begin casting while Mumbo and Scar keep the demon busy and stop it from running off. Once Pearl and I start casting, we won’t be able to stop until the spell is over. So if something happens– if one or both of you gets injured, let’s say– we won’t be able to help.”

The others dismounted with serious looks on their faces, tension hanging in the air so thick one could almost cut it with a knife. Scar glanced over at Mumbo, who looked several shades paler than usual. “I’m the best at physical combat,” he began slowly, “when I go vex, at least. I’ll do my best to keep it from attacking you or running away, without hurting Impulse too badly.”

“The demon will be attacking to kill though, won’t it?” Mumbo asked, wringing his hands together as he looked between the other knights. “It won’t fight fair just because we are.”

Scar laughed sardonically. “Oh, I’m not gonna be fightin’ fair, mister. I’m just not gonna strike lethally, is all. But you’re right,” he added after a moment, “the demon is gonna try to kill us. And it’s– it’s strong. We know this. But the other option is letting Impulse die, or lettin’ someone else die in his place.”

“Impulse would never forgive us if that happened,” Mumbo pointed out, “and, well, given the other option is his death…”

“We can’t give up,” Scar finished, earning nods from the rest of the group. “We’ll get Impulse back. We have to.”

Pearl looked over at Grian, shifting into her watcher form as she did so. “Right, then. Time to head out?”

Grian nodded, clenching his hands into fists. “Time to head out. Let’s go save Impulse, guys.”

The sun peeked out from behind the clouds as the knights made their way out of the forest and into the wide open field. The wind rustled the grass around them and blew through their hair, and carried with it the promise of a fight.

Grian had shifted out of his watcher form if only for a moment, just to make travel on foot easier. He was, after all, not suited for walking with those bird feet of his in his watcher form. He carefully ran his hand over his wings and plucked three loose feathers, silently handing one to each of the knights. A promise. No matter which way this went, he’d be with them.

The knights each tucked their feathers away, Pearl reaching out to take Grian’s hand in one of her own and giving it a light squeeze. We’ll be okay, the action said, I’m here.

The knights continued to walk through the field, walking over a small hill when Grian suddenly stopped, his wings extending slightly so as to stop the knights who were walking behind him. “...I see him.”

And there he was.

Impulse stood in the field, facing away from the knights, slightly below them where the ground evened out after the hill. He seemed unsteady on his feet, the sword in his hand dragging against the ground as if he had unsheathed it only to forget why he had done so, and lacked the strength to fully pick the weapon back up.

And his hands… even from a distance, Grian could tell that Impulse’s hands were covered in blood– some dried, some freshly spilt. He… couldn’t think about that. They didn’t have the time to. Not now.

“Impulse!” Pearl called, her voice strong and steady. Grian wished he had the strength to do what she did. “Impulse, we’re here. It’s okay.”

Impulse startled, nearly dropping his sword as he turned around sharply. And finally, after so long of trying to find him, the knights were able to see his face.

He looked gaunt, scared. The bags beneath his eyes were a testament to the exhaustion that plagued his body, and the shake in his hands matched the fear in his eyes. That wasn’t the worst of it– twin horns poked up from his hair, unnatural and out of place. Mumbo sucked in a horrified breath at the sight, paling and covering his mouth with one hand.

“What–” Impulse’s voice sounded strained, raspy– “what are you doing here?” Tears filled his exhausted, scared eyes. “Why did you follow me? I could– I could hurt you!” And suddenly, it wasn’t Impulse anymore, but red eyes and a straightened back and steady hands that belonged to the demon. “Yes… why did you follow him? Don’t you know?” it mocked in Impulse’s voice, smiling. “He can hurt you pitiful little things.”

Scar’s eyes shone a brilliant blue, the colour fleeing from his hair as he glared at the demon that wore Impulse’s face. “What have you done?!” he yelled, his hands clenching into fists. Sharpened claws pricked into skin, drawing small beads of blood, but Scar didn’t even feel the pain. That was Impulse. Impulse was hurting and it was all because of that demon, the demon that stood in front of him and smiled at Scar with a face that wasn’t its own, that it had no right to use.

“Oh!” The demon tilted its head to the side. “Oh, nothing he didn’t ask for.”

Eyes filled with rage, Grian shifted back into his watcher form. “Scar! Mumbo!” he called, and the fight began.

Scar held himself back from going full vex at first, throwing himself at the demon. It hadn’t been expecting the initial attack, stumbling back several steps before pulling itself together. The shock didn’t last long, and the demon was soon fighting back with a fierceness that Scar did his best to match.

Grian looked over at Pearl, meeting her eyes. “Right then. Let’s end this.”

Standing side by side, the two siblings fixed their gaze on the demon in their friend’s body. The magic that swirled around him was wrong, unnatural, evil– and it was their job to fix it. Pearl reached out and took Grian’s hand in one of her own, giving him a nod. They both stretched out their free arms, and called upon their magic.

The clouds darkened as the very magic that flowed through the air began to change, as if even the sky stopped to focus its attention on the two Watchers. The ambient magic flowed around them like a gust of air, rustling through Grian’s feathers and Pearl’s hair.

Grian's wings extended to their full span, and Pearl's followed suit, snapping open as a glowing purple eye appeared behind them. The wind picked up as the grass around the two began to glow as well, the broken portal symbol of the ancient Evolutionists appearing at their feet.

Faces set with determination, the two began to cast.

Scar did his best to keep the demon’s attention on him as he fought. It was much different than normal fights– his goal was to keep the demon from running off, all while trying to dodge the blows that were aimed to take his very life. Scar felt the vex magic inside him boiling in his veins, begging to be let free, to run wild and take over his mind. He stubbornly fought it back down– he was in control, not the vex. He wasn’t ready to go full vex again. Not yet.

Unfortunately for him, the universe didn’t care if he wasn’t ready.

The demon, by possessing Impulse, had gained every bit of the man’s strength and skill. And given the strength-enhancing magic it likely held, it was no wonder that Scar was struggling. The demon attacked again, and Scar wasn’t able to get out of the way in time. He took a heavy blow to the side and stumbled back, losing his footing on the uneven terrain and falling to the ground hard.

Mumbo stumbled back as the demon suddenly turned toward him, fumbling to quickly draw his sword in order to block the sudden attack. He strained under the pressure of the demon bringing Impulse’s full strength to bear, his arms shaking as he tried to push back. “Scar!” he yelped, “Scar, I can’t–”

The demon brought the sword down, and it was only Mumbo’s quick thinking of jumping to the side that kept him from dying instantly. The blade still sliced into his arm, and Mumbo let out a frantic scream that made whatever restraints Scar had holding him back shatter. Mumbo dropped to the ground, blood flowing freely from the wound, and Scar…

Scar snapped.

Not in the same way he had before, not at all. He was in control, and could feel the power of the vex flowing through his body as natural as the blood in his veins. Power buzzed behind his eyes as shining vex wings appeared behind him, and he shot up, taking a few steps forward before attacking the demon, the overwhelming need to get it away from Mumbo singing in his movements.

The demon turned to attack Scar, and he dug his claws into its chest and pushed it back as hard as he could, almost throwing it with how hard he shoved. He’d clearly underestimated his strength, as the demon flew back and landed hard on its arm, the sickening gunshot snap of a bone breaking making Scar wince.

And for a moment, the scream that tore its way out in response was purely Impulse, his voice unchanged by the timbre of the demon’s. For a moment, it was just Impulse, only Impulse, and guilt swept through him like a torrent.

But then it was the demon again, pushing itself back up and switching the sword over to its left hand, shining red eyes glaring at Scar as it shifted into a fighting stance once more. “Well? Fight me, then. See how long it takes for your precious friend’s body to break down and give up.”

Scar’s eyes narrowed. He glanced over to where Mumbo was, clutching his arm close and watching the fight with wide eyes. He’d be alright, and that was what was important. Lifting his gaze once more, Scar met the demon’s gaze. “Impulse is stronger than you’ll ever be. You’ll be long gone before he ever breaks down,” he spat.

The fight didn’t get a chance to continue– with a shout, Grian drew Scar’s attention back to him and Pearl. The magic around the two siblings had become wisps of purple light, swirling around the two as they casted. Scar knew with uncanny certainty that the spell was almost complete.

The demon did as well, judging by its roar of anger. “No! I will not be defeated by pathetic little mortals–!”

Scar saw it attempt to go for Grian and Pearl and dashed forward, throwing himself at the demon and bringing it and himself crashing to the ground. He winced at the impact, mentally making a note to apologize to Impulse later, when they were all safe.

“Scar!” Pearl yelled, and Scar took that as his cue to get the heck away from there.

He jumped up and scrambled away, uncaring if he looked a little undignified in the movement. He made it to Mumbo and collapsed by the man, bleeding and gasping, and turned just in time to see the spell hit its mark.

The demon screamed, an awful sound that tore into Scar’s heart, because it was Impulse, it was Impulse’s voice and Impulse’s face and Impulse’s body but it wasn’t Impulse at the same time. It wasn’t Impulse, and the eyes that bore into Scar while it tried to stand and was inevitably forced to its knees were not Impulse’s.

And then they were.

And then it was over.

Pearl pulled out the crystal from her pocket, drawing the demon’s essence toward her and binding it into the crystal. The once clear gem turned a scarlet red, and once she was certain it was sealed away, she slipped the gem back into her pocket.

A weak sob tore its way from Impulse’s lips as he gingerly held his broken arm in his other. He squeezed his eyes shut, shrinking in on himself, and for the first time since Grian had met him, Impulse seemed so small.

Scar stood shakily, helping Mumbo to his feet as well. “Okay… okay, okay,” he breathed out, making sure Mumbo was really alright before turning back and forcing himself to walk– walk, not run, he’s scared and hurt right now– to Impulse, kneeling by him. “Hey, Impulse.” He could see the other knights approaching in his peripherals, but for now he stayed focused on the injured man in front of him. “Hey.”

Pearl settled in the grass a little bit away, still leaving enough room to give Impulse space as she shifted back into her normal form. Grian followed suit, tucking colourful wings behind his back and sitting next to his sister. “Hey, mate,” Pearl started gently. “Can ya hear us? We’re here.”

Impulse let out a broken sob, shrinking in even further on himself. “I’m sorry,” he whispered, and the words were so quiet they were barely audible. “I’m so, so, sorry.” Hot tears slipped down his cheeks, mixing with blood and dirt.

Scar shared a look with Mumbo, before turning back to Impulse. He tried to keep his eyes from drifting to the horns that stuck up from the man’s head, and focused more on his face. “Impulse… Impulse, it’s okay. We’re okay. Can I touch you?” he asked, waiting for confirmation before reaching forward and carefully, as though Impulse were made of glass and would shatter at the slightest touch, drew him into a hug.

Impulse began to weep freely then, and Scar felt himself slowly relax out of his vex form, the colour seeping back into his hair and skin. He kept his arms around Impulse, murmuring soft comforts that had once been said to him.

It wasn’t long before Impulse passed out, from the exhaustion and exertion combined with the sheer pain and shock of the day’s events– of the weeks he had been dealing with the demon inside of his head alone. It had been exhausting, overwhelming, and Scar didn’t blame him in the slightest.

The journey home would be a long one, and the road to healing stretched out seemingly for an eternity. But the knights were no stranger to traveling, and this was just another path they would have to walk down.

Together.

#my writing #boatem knights au #impulsesv #pearlescentmoon #grian #goodtimeswithscar #mumbo jumbo #hermitcraft fanfic

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