Word Count ~ 5.1k
TW: Death, near death, references to SA, violence, trauma
(Please take the tags seriously, as this is a very heavy chapter)
Timeline: March 1988
There was something sad yet comforting about accepting that some things don't work out. Coming to terms with defeat always made it a little more tolerable, a reminder that life always moves on and that you should try your best to move with it. However, when you've spent your entire life working towards something you'll never achieve... that pill can be pretty hard to swallow.
It wasn't like the ceramist had a bad life, far from it in fact. He had a stable job that paid well, a loving husband and a comfortable home. He was lucky, and grateful for what he had, but it was disheartening to know that the one thing that would make his life a thousand times better was the only thing he could never have.
Despite this, he and his husband still tried their hardest. But there were no orphanages from which to adopt or foster, surrogacy was too expensive even with a stable job, and the couple themselves didn't exactly have the right compatability to produce a baby by themselves. Even though their lives were otherwise good and happy, knowing that they'd never have children was always a lingering cause of sadness for both of them.
But they'd persisted, finding joy in other aspects of their lives and trying to make the most of their current situation. One such example occurred on the evening of their 7th wedding anniversary, when the ceramist's husband had decided to find the lighthearted humour in what they were going through.
"Sweetheart, look! I have an anniversary present for you!"
The ceramist turned, seeing his husband standing behind him on the balcony with his hands behind his back and an excited grin on his face. "Present? But we just got back home... I thought going to your cousin's restaurant was my present."
"No, I have another one!" His husband exclaimed, before holding out what the ceramist initially mistook for a simple mound of clay. However, upon further inspection, he noticed the ornate, miniscule hands curled into fists, the tiny legs with the knees tucked in close to the stomach, and the cherubic little face with adorable round cheeks and closed eyes. "See? It's our baby!"
The ceramist laughed, taking the tiny clay baby into his hands. He could see the hours of work that had been put into each and every detail, the love and care that had been poured into the little mound of clay as a silly little joke just to make him laugh. "You might just be the strangest person I know... and maybe the most talented too. I love it."
The ceramist leaned in to kiss his husband, something he'd done a hundred times before and something he'd do a hundred times again, but this time things went a little differently. Because before they could actually get the chance to kiss each other, they were interrupted by a blinding flash of light and an explosion-like noise so loud that it almost deafened them both.
The ceramist fell backwards in shock, his husband managing to catch him before he could hit the ground. Every hair on his body was standing on edge as he was pulled to his feet, the two holding onto each other in shock as they tried to process what had just happened. "Did... did we just get hit by lightning?"
"We couldn't have, there's no storm!" His husband exclaimed, checking the two of them for any injuries and ensuring that no fires had been started by the apparent lightning strike. "But I don't know what else it could have been. You're not hurt, are you...?"
The ceramist didn't respond, instead staring at where the lightning had struck, or rather what the lightning had struck. He'd expected the clay child to be burnt or damaged, if not completely obliterated, but it was unharmed. Slowly he picked it up, and perhaps he was dizzy from the impact, but he could have sworn that the tiny statue was moving.
He expected to feel hard, dry clay in his hands when he picked the baby up, the kind he worked with every day and was more than familiar with. But what had once been clay was now soft pink skin, smooth to the touch as if it were porcelain. Curls of shiny brunette hair lay atop the baby's head, and it opened its eyes to reveal irises as bright and striking as the lightning that had brought it to life.
The ceramist couldn't believe what he was seeing, that he was holding an infant in his arms where there had once been nothing but a lifeless statue. His husband had noticed too, equally stunned to the point of speechlessness as they both stared at the child that had appeared so spontaneously.
"So that wasn't lightning after all." The ceramist remarked quietly, gently tracing a finger along the markings that covered the baby's arms and shoulders, almost resembling the scars one would receive if struck by lightning. He smiled, feeling tears rise in his eyes as he cradled the child. "It was a gift. From who or where I'm unsure... but I think this truly is our baby now."
"But that's impossible, how could-"
"Do you want to hold him?"
The ceramist's husband fell silent as the baby was passed into his arms. Something about watching the tiny infant and his beautiful glowing eyes eliminated any scepticism or questions from his mind, as he realised that he was in fact a living, healthy baby. And maybe it didn't matter where he'd come from or how he was alive, because he was their baby.
"...He's perfect." The ceramist's husband finally admitted, laughing a little as tears appeared in his eyes too. "Although, that was all very impulsive, I think I need to sit down..."
"Impulsive..." The ceramist repeated, before laughing as he watched the infant. "Wouldn't that be such a cute name? Impulse?"
"Well, it would definitely be original. And it would be a nice way to remember whatever just happened here... even though I doubt I'm going to forget about it anytime soon. But I think I like the name, it suits him."
And, as they came to realise over the years, Impulse was a perfect name for their son. Needless to say, he was already quite the strange child, having been created from nothing but clay and conveniently timed magical lightning, but things only got stranger. It began one day when Impulse was three or four years old, and during the twenty seconds that his fathers turned their backs on him, he'd managed to get a hold of a frayed wire that had gone unnoticed.
Typically, something like that would have killed such a small child, but it was at that very moment that the ceramist and his husband found out that Impulse could conduct electricity. And when they'd worriedly picked him up just seconds later, they then learned that Impulse could easily transfer that electricity to other people if it was left uncontrolled.
It was quite a shock, in both a literal and figurative manner, and unfortunately whichever god had blessed them with a child didn't leave instructions on how to deal with these unexpected powers. Despite this, and despite the fact that their child was now shunned and frowned upon by the entire town, the ceramist and his husband remained optimistic and decided to figure things out themselves.
Sure, it made socialising a little difficult, but Impulse eventually learned how to keep the discharges in check. He even made a friend, who despite almost being electrocuted by him on their first meeting, had decided that 'being able to kill people was cool' and had stuck by his side ever since. To Skizz's disappointment, Impulse never actually killed anyone with his powers, but he was happy to remain his friend anyway.
And, despite the many sudden and unexpected hurdles it threw in his way, Impulse's life carried on. He did well in school, he and Skizz eventually got jobs together, he helped his parents work so that they could eventually retire, and things couldn't be better. Impulse was happy, surrounded by the people he loved, and every single day he was grateful for it.
But what goes up must come down, and although Impulse had no means of anticipating it, things would begin to come down very soon. The day it all went wrong had begun the same way any other day did, and nothing unusual happened until late that evening when Impulse and Skizz were returning home from a New Year's party.
The party itself was far from over, but the drinking had gotten a little too heavy for their liking and they'd decided to spend the rest of the day in each other's company. Besides, Impulse didn't have the best track record at parties, and had already been banned from three taverns for causing accidental power outages. Perhaps it was best for him to leave that environment before he got too overstimulated and ended up being banned from a fourth.
Skizz kept a hold of Impulse's hand the entire way home, claiming it was because he liked the way it made his hair stand on end, but Impulse had a feeling that the gesture harboured a certain level of affection too. Perhaps not the romantic kind, but it certainly the kind that ran deeper than most friendships. And whichever it was, Impulse was just happy to have someone hold his hand in the cold January night.
"You know, I told him that the backflip wasn't going to work, but... you're not listening, are you?"
Impulse glanced up at Skizz, taking a moment to process what his friend had just said, before laughing a little and shaking his head. "Sorry, I'm just tired."
"No wonder you always get thrown out of parties, you're no fun." Skizz teased, pulling Impulse into a close hug as they walked. "Aren't you lucky to have an amazing friend like me?"
"I'm your only friend, Skizz, and last I checked you've been thrown out of twice as many parties as me for beating people up." Impulse reminded him.
"You're saying that like it's a bad thing." Skizz shrugged. "I don't care if they were drunk, those idiots should know better than to treat you so badly and I was just making sure that they did. I'm always here for you, you know that, right?"
Impulse rolled his eyes, laughing again, but his laughter slowly died as he became aware of the strong and repulsive scent of alcohol in the air. He frowned, suddenly dubious and untrusting of his surroundings. He knew Skizz hadn't been drinking, but the blatant smell suggested that someone in very close proximity to them had been.
Impulse stopped walking, and perhaps that was where things had truly started to go downhill. Had he not hesitated in the middle of the grimy, dimly lit alley, perhaps the intoxicated individual behind him wouldn't have decided to make a sitting duck out of him. Maybe if he'd let Skizz stay right by his side, he wouldn't have been pinned to a wall by the wrists.
Perhaps if he hadn't been outside so late that night, he wouldn't have been attacked by the drunken criminal. Perhaps if he hadn't panicked, he would have been able to gain control of himself before it was too late. Perhaps if the sheer force of the electricity hadn't been so painful and overwhelming, he could have prevented it from being let loose.
And perhaps if it hadn't been let loose, then Skizz would still be alive.
Even years after that day, Impulse never found it within him to go back home. The mere idea of facing his parents and admitting to killing his own best friend brought sleepless nights and horrifying dreams upon him, tormenting him every time he tried to close his eyes and rest.
And even as the years passed and Impulse tried to get as far from his old home as he could, the memory remained as clear and vivid as the day it happened. He could still remember Skizz's eyes being wide and unblinking, the slow trickle of blood down his cheek, the way his hand twitched ever so slightly as he lay on the ground, it was as if Impulse was cursed to never forget the fate he'd brought on his own friend.
And he never did. Impulse never allowed himself to move on, to grieve, or to love anyone again in fear of hurting them too. What Impulse truly feared was himself, of what he was capable of and the danger his capabilities brought upon those around him. He never stayed in one place for more than a few days, moving around from one town to the next and rarely talking to anyone. It was what was best, and the only sure way to keep everyone around him safe.
Timeline: March 2015
"You know Keralis, I just realised that I've never asked you about being an Empath before." XB pointed out. Several months had passed since they'd first met each other, and now that XB came to think of it, perhaps Keralis kept quiet about his own abilities for a reason. But there was no harm in asking, especially seeing as XB was eager to distract himself from the unfamiliarly cold weather.
"And I've never asked you much about being... Well, I don't even know what you are, Princess." Keralis replied. He wasn't quite sure when or why he'd started calling XB that, but it was a cute nickname and it had ended up sticking. "Besides, Empaths aren't half as interesting as people make us out to be."
XB wasn't quite picking up what Keralis was putting down, and didn't seem to take the hint that his newfound friend wasn't particularly keen on talking about himself. Despite this, Keralis sighed, and moved in a little closer to the fire they'd lit. "It's actually not much fun, being considered 'rare' or whatever... I'm sure you'd know."
"Did they push you away too?"
"The opposite, actually. We were treated like possessions, something valuable to show off at a party or to exploit for their own twisted desires... I was the only one who was lucky enough to escape."
XB's heart sank with sympathy, and his eyes landed on what he'd initially mistaken as a tattoo on the side of Keralis' neck. A single black heart, and faded ink beneath it where someone's name had once been written. Not a tattoo, but a property mark, and the mere sight of it made XB sick.
Keralis noticed him staring, and didn't need to follow XB's gaze to know what he was looking at. His hand drifted subconsciously to his neck, his fingers brushing against the faded, illegible name. "But that was years ago, and I'm doing better now. At least, I have been since I met you."
Keralis attempted to laugh, to find something lighthearted within his own trauma, but fell silent when he saw the tears in XB's eyes. Without warning, his friend hugged him, his tears soaking through Keralis' shirt within seconds. Keralis was surprised by the sheer amount of empathy XB was emitting, it was unlike any he'd ever seen before and certainly unlike any he'd ever been shown.
He'd grown quite close and unexpectedly protective of XB over the last few months. He was innocent and caring, with a huge heart that had been broken time and again by the unforgiving world around them. Keralis had been through enough that he'd simply become numb to these things, but XB always held onto hope in the face of adversity, and that was what made it even more sad to see that hope get diminished every time.
Keralis pulled XB a little closer to him, letting the guardian hybrid rest his head on his shoulder. Keralis hadn't cried since he was a child, and today wasn't going to be the day he started, but for the first time in years he felt touched by someone else's actions. It hurt, but in a weird way, it almost made him feel happy too. And, despite knowing so much about emotions and how they worked, he couldn't find the words to describe what it was he was feeling.
Unfortunately, the tender moment was soon cut short by a rustle in the bushes. Keralis turned, remaining silent, but struggled to pick up on any emotions that didn't belong to XB. Eventually he was able to feel apathy, exhaustion, and a general sense of numbness, but nothing else. There was definitely a person nearby, that much Keralis could confirm, but he'd never come across anyone who didn't have any readable emotions.
Seconds later they heard a crash, and Keralis jumped to his feet. In the Bush was a brunette human, who had collapsed from pain and tiredness, but was still conscious. XB was alarmed, and attempted to run to the stranger's side, but was held back by Keralis. "Stay back Princess, we don't know them!"
"Does it matter? Look at them Keralis, they need help!"
XB had a point. The human was far too weak to be a threat to either of them, and XB of all people certainly wasn't going to let them suffer and potentially even die. Keralis sighed, kneeling down beside the stranger as they coughed and struggled to breathe.
They were severely malnourished, and likely hadn't slept or eaten properly in days. They'd need proper medical care if they were to live, but the most Keralis could do for now was to ease their suffering. He took their hand, immediately struck with overwhelming grief and guilt, but gathered enough strength to send the human into a deep and dreamless sleep.
Keralis retracted his hand, still shook by the onslaught of despair he'd felt when he'd touched the stranger. He hadn't seen far enough into their mind to know what had caused such pain, but perhaps he didn't want to either.
"There, Impulse is asleep now." Keralis told XB, still disturbed by what he'd felt. "But we need to get help if we want him to live, you put out the fire and I'll pack our things."
"Impulse..." XB repeated, doing what had been requested of him. "I didn't know you could read minds."
"I can't, not exactly." Keralis replied, throwing a backpack over his shoulders and lifting Impulse into his arms. He was concerningly light, which suggested that he hadn't eaten a full meal in months. Years maybe. "But I can see memories. I wasn't able to see very far into his memories, but whatever he's been through... it wasn't good."
Keralis moved as fast as he could, knowing there was a city with an Admin Headquarters only a few hours from where they were, but he wasn't sure if he could make it there in time. Eventually he and XB made it out of the trees and onto a path that cut through the forest, but there were still no signs of other people. Impulse had ceased his coughing, but his breathing had become dangerously slow and his heart rate was dropping.
"I don't think he's going to make it." Keralis admitted, slowing down as he began to grow too tired to run. XB, ever optimistic, shook his head and tried to pull Keralis along with him.
"No, we can't give up!" He insisted, voice shaking. "There has to be someone nearby, a village or a traveller or- or..."
Keralis shook his head solemnly, coming to a stop in the middle of the path. I'm sorry Princess, but we can't help everyone. He's at rest now... the best we can do is to let him pass this way."
XB's bright aqua eyes filled with tears, and it hurt Keralis to see him so upset. He was about to speak, to try and console or offer support to him, but before he could a bright light the same colour as XB's eyes lit up the dark forest around them. Keralis turned, his own eyes going wide as he watched a portal frame with a blue centre materialise before them.
He'd never actually seen a server portal before, and this one couldn't have appeared at a better time. Two people emerge from the portal, the first being a tall man in green armour and a helmet with a purple visor. The second was a zombie dressed mostly in black, with long curly red hair and limbs held together by loose messy stitches.
Disregarding their intimidating appearances, alongside his general distrust of strangers, Keralis ran towards them with Impulse in his arms. The zombie turned first, before tapping the taller man on the arm to get his attention.
"Hey, excuse me?" XB called, running as fast as he could and trying to keep up with Keralis. "We're sorry to bother you, but this man really needs help!"
Behind his visor, the taller man's eyes were filled with concern as he pressed three fingers against the side of Impulse's neck. At the same time, he turned to the zombie. "Cleo, I need you to go ahead and find Hypno and TFC. Tell them we have someone who's hurt and potentially dying."
The zombie, or 'Cleo' as he'd called them, nodded, before disappearing back into the portal. Under his breath, the man in the armour began to count under his breath, keeping his fingers against Impulse's neck. Once he reached fifteen, he stopped, before turning back to XB and Keralis.
"He's still alive, but you don't have enough time to bring him to a hospital. We have people on our server who can heal him if you trust us to bring him there."
Trust, there was that word again. In all honesty, Keralis didn't trust any of these people; Impulse was a complete stranger and so were the people offering to save him. But XB was beyond determined to help this man, and perhaps it would do Keralis some good to take a leaf out of his book and let himself trust someone else for once. Besides, XB had once trusted him and saved his life, it was about time he returned the favour.
"Do what you have to." Keralis replied, and the man in the helmet, presumably an Admin, nodded.
"Follow me."
If this hadn't been such a dire situation, Keralis would have stopped to take in the beauty of the world he'd just entered. Between high mountains, sprawling valleys, lush forests and a cosy little village at its centre, it was a lovely place and he almost wished that he was seeing it under better circumstances. Regardless, he ignored all of these things, following the Admin (who'd briefly introduced himself as Xisuma) into one of the homes in the village.
He took XB's hand in his own, watching as an older man checked Impulse's pulse and injuries, before a young blonde man came over. Like Impulse, his eyes were a bright, unusual gold, a telltale sign of a spellcaster. "There's not much I can do." He told Xisuma. "I guess I can steady his heart rate, but he's too injured for me to heal him."
"Anything you can do for the time being will help." Xisuma assured him. "Joe and Tango are on their way with potions, and if you can keep him breathing until then, there's nothing else we'll need to ask of you. You've got this, okay?"
The group seemed very close, too large and wildly different to be related to one another, but perhaps they were still a family of some kind. It gave Keralis a hope, to know that perhaps Impulse's fate hadn't yet been sealed, but that hope was soon taken away when the young spellcaster began to worry.
"My magic isn't doing anything... is it too late?" He asked, turning to Xisuma for guidance.
"I think I can help." Keralis suddenly admitted, walking over to where the spellcaster was working. He hadn't seen far into Impulse's mind earlier, but if he were to try again, perhaps he could find out what had happened to him and how to cure it. "May I?"
"Go for it." The spellcaster offered, standing back. Keralis nodded his head, before taking a deep breath and once again holding Impulse's hand.
Immediately, the overwhelming rush of emotions came back, but Keralis held on tightly to him. He began to see brief flashes of memories, each coming and going faster than the last, and each with a unique emotion attached to them.
He saw strikes of lightning and felt energetic, he saw two men holding him and felt loved, he saw a young boy with dark hair and blue eyes and felt happy, he saw himself being pushed against a wall and felt scared, he saw a body on the streets of an alleyway and felt grief, then lastly he saw the lightning again and felt remorse, hatred, yearning and exhaustion all in quick succession.
Keralis let go, and his eyes wide as it clicked in his head. The lightning, that was what had created Impulse and its energy was what kept him alive. Something had happened that made him despise both himself and his ability to conduct electricity, and he had stopped engaging with it entirely. But without electricity keeping him alive, Impulse would surely die soon.
Keralis glanced back up at the young blonde, trying to shake off the intense rollercoaster of emotions he'd been on and focus on the task at hand. "You're a spellcaster, aren't you? Can you manipulate the weather?"
"Kind of?" The spellcaster admitted. "I can't do much more than a storm, but I don't see how this will he-"
"A storm is perfect." Keralis interrupted. "We need to hit him with lightning."
"Lightning?! We're trying to save him, not finish him off ourselves!" The spellcaster protested.
"Just listen to me, okay? I know what I'm talking about." Keralis snapped, lifting Impulse up once more and bringing him outside. "We don't have long, and if you want him to live then this is the way to do it."
The spellcaster gave up on trying to argue, instead focusing his energy towards fulfilling Keralis' request. He was already tired from trying to revive Impulse, but managed to summon dark clouds above their heads. Xisuma pulled XB and the older man back, Keralis also taking cautious steps backwards as sparks of electricity made his hair stand on end.
The spellcaster was young, and evidently still inexperienced in most fields of magic, but was using the little energy he had left to try and summon the lightning. He almost appeared to be on the verge of passing out, and just as Xisuma was about to step forward to try and stop him, a loud crack deafened the group and a bright flash of light struck Impulse from the sky.
Almost immediately, Impulse sat up with a gasp, the group collectively releasing a breath they didn't know they'd been holding. Xisuma was by his side in seconds, helping him stand and ensuring that he hadn't been hurt, and Keralis could already see the life and colour restored to him by the shock.
Impulse was understandably scared, not knowing where he was or how he'd gotten there. Xisuma remained calm, giving him a rundown of what had happened, before bringing both Impulse and the young spellcaster in to rest. At the same time, having seen the flash of lightning, several others had come over to investigate, making Keralis question how large this group truly was.
Most notable was a short little Glare with a long mossy cloak, who'd seemed oddly excited to see the strangers in his home. He ran to the older man, tugging at his shirt (which Keralis had only noticed read 'TFC', likely his initials) and pointing at him and XB.
"Are they new Hermits, Tin? Are they staying here like Cleo and Tango?"
"No, I don't think so." Tin laughed, lifting the Glare into his arms as if he were a young child. "They just needed some help, and Xisuma and Hypno were nice enough to give it to them. I'm sure they have a home of their own to get back to."
"We don't, actually." XB called, and Keralis held back a groan. His friend was far too naive sometimes, it was a miracle they hadn't run into the kind of people who'd take advantage of that. However, he really needed to teach that man how to close his mouth sometime.
"Oh, here we go again..." A woman with short blonde hair and a green bomber jacket sighed. "Someone's going to have to do X's speech now, aren't they?"
"It's alright, I can handle it." Tin offered, before turning to Keralis and XB. "This is Hermitcraft, a server for people without anywhere else to stay or go. The decision is entirely yours to make, and we'll understand if you decline, but if you're looking for a home that's free of conflict or prejudice... I'm certain we always have room for more."
"No." Keralis immediately declined.
"Yes!" XB exclaimed at the same time.
Keralis turned to XB, alarmed.
"What?! We don't even know them, Princess!"
"But they're being so nice!"
"Nice doesn't mean trustworthy!"
"Please?"
"No!"
"Yes?"
"No!"
"Maybe?"
"Well... well I guess maybe, but-"
"Maybe is almost a yes!"
"No, maybe means maybe!"
"Please...?"
Keralis was about to say no again, but hesitated. What was the point? He had nothing to lose back on the Main World, and if he was being offered somewhere to stay then he should take the opportunity. A server was safe, free from pirates and procurers, and it would do XB a lot of good to socialise with truly kind and caring people.
"...You know what, fine."
"Yes!" XB cheered, turning back to the others. "Thank you so much for the offer! I'm XB, this is Keralis, and you haven't met him yet but there's a guy in there called Impulse. I haven't actually met Impulse either, so I don't know if he'd want to stay too or..."
As XB kept on talking, Keralis eventually stopped listening. He struggled to believe that they'd only found Impulse ten minutes ago, and now they'd found themselves a home among other anomalies and rejects like them. Typically he wasn't a fan of spontaneity, but for once, Keralis could only see things going uphill from this day onwards.
And, even though he still didn't believe in luck, Keralis had to admit... he was pretty lucky to be where he was right now.