Latest / The Monster Catcher's Journal / False Shadow

Transcript

False Shadow · The Monster Catcher's Journal

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Travelers and monster catchers abound. I'm Stella
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Ferris, and this is a Monster Catchers Journal
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podcast that you have crash -landed on. Today's
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entry is a reflection you won't want to see.
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We're not talking about the friendly or even
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natural glyphs today. No, we're stepping into
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the shadow glass to confront something darker,
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something twisted. His name is False Shadow.
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The corrupted form of a glyph you may remember
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as Mimimir. Mimimir was already strange, trapping
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people in reflections, feeding off their identity.
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With false shadow, he takes it further. There's
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an old rumor from the Shattered Lands, a circle
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of cloak figures, people who claim they could
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bring shattered glyphs back from the brink. attempted
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to restore Mimimir after it broke during a failed
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capture. They succeeded, technically, but what
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they brought back wasn't Mimimir anymore, it
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had changed. The frame was warped, the glass
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smoked with darkness, the glyph pulsed with fear.
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It stopped mimicking and started tormenting.
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They call it false shadow. When I hear the name
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whispered at Luan Academy, I don't - I didn't
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believe it. I thought it was a warning - warning
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tale. Some overblown myth passed around to scare
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junior catchers, you know? But last week, I found
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myself face to face with the mirror that bites
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back. It started to - in the ruins of a forgotten
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observatory, where the moon li - Never quite
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touches the floor. I'd been tracking strange
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energy patterns, ones that pulsed like old fractured
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glyph magic, and that's when I saw it. A mirror.
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Just standing there alone, no frame, no anchor,
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just hovering, waiting, and it spoke. What do
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you fear, little spark? I was pulled in before
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I could even blink. Suddenly I was home, or I
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thought I was, but everything was wrong. Familiar
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walls cracked, voices I loved were twisted. I
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saw myself felling. Letting the people I protect
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get hurt. Losing everything. The fear was suffocating,
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and that's what he feeds on. You give in if you
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believe the vision. False shadow rips your soul
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out and stills it in a jar. Delicate little thing.
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It was, but black glass. whispering smoke. It
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all was too much. Almost. But I remembered what
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Professor Lang said in one of his band lectures.
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Fear, when faced, collapses in on itself. So
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I did the unthinkable. I reached for my capture
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knife, not to fight, but to cut the illusion.
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The mirror hissed. I sliced across the vision,
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the reflection split. He dropped the jar, my
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soul returned with a breath so sharp I felt it
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in my teeth. All shadow recoiled. He didn't vanish,
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but he slithered back into the dark, watching,
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waiting. I didn't try to catch him, not yet.
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He's a cryptoglyph. Now, beyond classification,
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dangerous to even name too often. But the good
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news, I'm still here, and so are you. I thought
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I had escaped him completely, but something's
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been off ever since. Reflections and puddles
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linger too long, my shadow twist twitches before
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I move, and sometimes I still hear the jars rattling
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behind me, even when nothing's there. So today
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I went back. Not physically, no. That would be
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reckless. But through meditation, through memory,
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through the silver of the Hassai, kept from the
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cursed observatory. Let me tell you what I saw.
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The mirror world isn't just a place. It's a prison
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of the mind, built from your regrets, your shame,
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your nightmares. Imagine walking into a hallway
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made entirely of yourself, hundreds of mirrors
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stretching on forever. But none of them show
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the truth. Some show who you used to be. Others
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show who you could become. If everything went
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horribly wrong, in false shadow's realm, time
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didn't exist. You're not walking forward, you're
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falling inward. Rooms appear based on what you
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fear most. I passed a nursery once, my mother's
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voice calling me, but when I opened the door,
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there was no one there, just a crib full of black
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feathers and broken glass. Then came the library.
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Books whispered, every mistake I've made out
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loud. Every glyph felled to catch. Every friend
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I let down. The air in the room was heavy like
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it was watching me. And that's when I found the
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gallery of jars. Dozens of them. Hundreds of
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them. Each one with a name scratched into the
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glass. Some were long forgotten catchers. Others
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I recognized. One was Professor Lang's partner.
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Another one was a young trainee who went missing
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last year, Zell. Sweet Zell, who had a fear of
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being alone. It really stumped me because Dr.
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Ling, he never really talks about his... his
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work partner. But there was a jar with his work
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partner's name. His work partner that he used
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to work with. But he can't no more because they're...
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they're missing. I couldn't hear their voices,
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but I felt their presence trapped, dormant, but
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not gone. False shadow was there too, looming
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behind the shelves. No form, just a shimmer,
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a tall outline of smudge, black line and cracked
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silver eyes. He doesn't speak with words, he
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speaks in memory. I felt it again, my fear. This
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time it was my team, Santa Luna, even little
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Mirno. I saw them, still, impel. cotton reflection
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that wouldn't shatter. My breath caught. That's
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when I remembered I wasn't really there. I still
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held control. I grabbed a sliver of real mirror.
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I had brought with me the only one I cut my way
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out with my last time. And I whispered a name,
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mine, because that's what he feeds on, forgetting
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who you are. The moment I remembered the room
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cracked like a spiderweb, jars shook, false shadow
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hissed, and I escaped. Not unscathed, but whole.
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That's the true danger of false shadow. He doesn't
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just trap your body, he makes you question whether
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you deserve to leave. Makes you want to give
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up. So, here's what I've learned, travelers.
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If you fall into the world by accident or design,
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remember... Your worst fear is only a part of
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you. The real prison is the one you accept. And
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as long as you know your name, you can find the
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door. Bring something reflective, something real.
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But most importantly, bring your truth. That's
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the only thing he can't twist. There is something,
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however, I have to admit. Travelers and monster
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catchers abound. I didn't catch Foss's shadow.
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I didn't even try, and maybe that was the right
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choice, or maybe it was fear. After escaping
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the mirror world, after walking through jars
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of stolen souls and illusions shaped like my
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worst thoughts, I had him. He was right there.
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Colliding out of splintered reflections, his
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outline flickering like a candle behind warped
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glass. My glyphid even pulsed in my hand, ready
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to deploy, or a beak stood beside me, golden
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and loyal, eyes fixed on that... eyes fixed on
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that shimmer. But I froze, not from terror, from
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understanding. False shadow isn't a monster,
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he's a scar, the echo of pain and fear stitched
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together by people who didn't understand what
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they were reviving. He's not a wild thing running
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free. He's something made born from the remains
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of Mimimir and the grief of those who couldn't
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let go. And I realized, capturing him wouldn't
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fix that. There's a strange pressure among catchers,
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you know. We're supposed to fix things, log them,
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classify them, contain them. A false shadow,
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he doesn't want to be contained. He wants to
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be understood. That's not an excuse. He's dangerous.
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But what he does do to people, the fear, the
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traps, the soul jars, it's unforgivable. But
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something tells me, if I caught him now, I'd
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just be throwing another lock on the door that's
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already chained shut. He wouldn't be healed.
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He'd just be buried again. And what happens to
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buried fear? It festers, it grows teeth. So now,
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I didn't catch false shadow, and I might never
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be the one who does, but I'll be watching, learning,
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maybe, just maybe, there's another way, something
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beyond the trap, beyond the jar, a way to remind
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him who he was before he became a reflection
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of our worst selves. Not every glyph needs to
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be caught, some need to be remembered, and until
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then, I'll keep the sliver of mere I carry close,
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a reminder of the fear I faced and the fear I
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let go. False shadow is still out there, but
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so am I. So after escaping the mirror world,
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I chose not to catch, and not choosing to catch
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false shadow. I didn't go home. I went straight
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to Luan Academy, straight to Professor Orium.
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He's one of the only people who studied mirror
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-based glyphs without going completely mad. He's
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also the only one who's ever mentioned false
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shadow in a public lecture and survived the backlash.
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We met in the South Wing. His office is barely
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an office. It's more like a collapsing observatory
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stitched together with spiderweb diagrams and
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half -melted glass maps. The door was already
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open. He was waiting. You saw it, didn't you?
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Orion asked. I nodded and sat down. I didn't
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even take off my coat. The mirror shard was still
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wrapped in my scarf when I began my report. Subject?
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False shadow. Classification unknown. likely
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a cryptoglyph or a subtype. We haven't named
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possibly a mirror -borne entity beyond our current
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containment understanding. Method of appearance.
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Appearance in a derelict observatory east of
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the ruined path, manifest it as a free -standing
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mirror unfixed to any structure, activate it,
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on proximity without contacts. It doesn't need
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touch. It reads intent. If you're searching for
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answers, it pulls. Confirmed. Entry was instant.
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Vision began immediately. Mirror world composed
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of overlapping personal fears. Environments react
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to emotional state, gravity unstable, time nonlinear.
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That's why most people don't return." Orion said
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to me. He didn't interrupt much, just nodded
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occasionally, eyes behind those crescent glasses,
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glinted with something between curiosity and
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concern. Then I told him about the jars, about
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how many names were etched into the glass. His
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face changed at that, like he recognized some
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of them, maybe even one that mattered. The jars
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are real. I saw one once. It had my brother's
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name. I'm sorry. I said softly. Don't be. He
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chose to stay. Said he wanted to learn from the
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fear. Okay, so let me start with the next part,
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Professor Orion. Escape method. The illusion
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fractured after subject recalled their own name
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and used a reflective blade to cut through the
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environment. False shadow recoiled. from a contact
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with the metal. It's not the metal, Stella Ferris.
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It's the clarity. Anything forged with certainty.
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Steel, silver, self. He can't touch it. I finished
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the report, closed the log, and just sat there
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for a moment. I asked him the question that had
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been digging into me the whole way back. Did
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I do the right thing not catching him? He didn't
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answer right away, but then he said something
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I'll never forget. The right thing, maybe. The
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brave thing, absolutely. You didn't defeat him,
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but you didn't let him win either. That's the
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first step to saving something lost. We catalogued
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my findings and I left the mirror shard with
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him, for keepsaking. He said he'd study it, but
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something tells me he already knew more than
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he let on. In me, I walked out of Luan Academy
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into the night, star shimmering above the twin
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moons, or sorry, the twin suns, and the three
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moons, shining ever so slightly above, and I
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felt a little lighter, while shadow is still
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out there, but I'm not alone in facing him anymore.
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And neither are you. After the long walk back
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from the academy, I didn't head to my room. Instead,
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I climbed up the porch, where I knew they'd be
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waiting. Luna was on the hammock, reading something
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ancient and probably forbidden. Luna was sitting
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on the steps with a bat bowl of glowing berry
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seeds. Beating Mernu by hand, they looked up
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the moment they heard me crunch across the gravel
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path. You look like someone tried to drown you
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in regret and then hung you out to dry. That's
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not far off, actually, Xena. You saw him, didn't
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you? False shadow. Luna asked. Worse, I didn't
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catch him. Good, Xena replied. Good, I ask. You're
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not supposed to catch everything, Stellie. Some
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things, some glyphs, need to breathe, even if
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their breath smells like sorrow and broken glass.
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Did he hurt you? Luna asked. No, not really.
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He showed me things, my worst fears, losing all
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of you, letting the sanctuary fall apart, becoming
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like... like her. Like Ravena. I said softly.
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You didn't make those fears. You already had
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them. You just pulled them to the surface. Luna
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said. And you faced them. That's power. Steliferous.
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You think glyph catching is about containment?
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But it's not. It's about resilience. Witnessing
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what others can't. Xena said. I kept thinking
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of you two. It's what pulled me out. I said,
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with tears in my eyes. We're always with you,
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even when your shadow walks the wrong way, Luna
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said. We stayed out there for a long time. Senna
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handed me a mug of rose fruit tea. Luna wrapped
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me in a blanket that smelled like cloud lavender
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and mint oil. The three of us just sat in the
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glow of the moons, saying nothing for a while,
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and maybe that's what I need at most. Not a lecture,
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not a mission, just them. You're lucky I like
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you. If you'd come back possessed, I would have
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hit you with a flying frying pan, Zena said,
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teasing me. I had salt lines in my drawer, just
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in case. Don't think I won't use them, Luna said.
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I love you too, I replied. Luna and Zena said.
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at the same time in perfect unison, we know.
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I didn't catch false shadow as I've said like
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probably a million times already, but I faced
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him and I came home to the people who remind
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me who I am with the mirrors, or when the mirror
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lies. Maybe that's enough for now. After the
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laughter had finally died down and our teacups
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were empty, we leaned back against the port trailing,
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gazing up at the twin moons in the endless sky
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of Nibiru. Well, in the three. Sorry, I keep
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saying twin moons, but I keep messing up. It's
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twin suns. In the three moons. And without really
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planning to, we started naming the stars. That
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one. Right, and twitchy. That's Hexburn. Because
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it looks like it wants to curse something, Xena
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said. Ooh, that cluster there, the whisperbraid.
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I used to think that's where cloud glyphs go
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to sleep, Luna said, smiling. See the slow moving
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one over there? The soft gold one? that sanctum.
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Feels like a safe place, like home." I said,
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not bad, Stellie. You've got naming talent, Zena
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said. Yeah, when she's not almost getting soul
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jarred. Luna replied, fair. I said, laughing.
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There's something magical about naming stars.
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It doesn't change them, but it helps you remember
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where you were when you needed something to believe
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in. And tonight, under the sky that watched us
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live and laugh and survive, we named every single
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one we could see. Not because they were ours,
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but because we were theirs. And so, under the
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twin suns and the three moons, a sky full of
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memories, we named the stars. Some after dreams
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some after fears and some just because they made
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us feel less alone While shadow is still out
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there, but tonight we didn't win Tonight was
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ours and tomorrow. We keep going naming the dark
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one spark at a time until they then travelers
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stay brave stay clever and Remember no matter
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how deep the shadows fall the stars are always
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waiting to be named This has been the monster
21:54
catchers journal podcast And I'm Stella Farris.
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This is our sky. Goodbye. See you next time.
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This is Stella Farris signing off.