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Transcript

Thorn Edge · The Monster Catcher's Journal

0:35
Hello, Travelers and Monster Catchers abound.
0:39
I'm Stelliferous and you've crash -landed on
0:42
the Monster Catchers Journal podcast. So, the
0:47
sky above the crater of the echoing thoughts
0:51
was warped, twisting with stormlight and static,
0:56
like the world itself was having a panic attack.
0:59
We'd followed the trail of black feathers and
1:01
thorny vines for miles. each one humming with
1:05
unease, or be flitted nervously on my shoulder,
1:11
wings twitching with every gust of wind. Xena
1:14
tightened her grip on Ignizura's reins, and Luna
1:17
muttered something to Mirno in the estranged
1:20
whisper language of hers. That's when we heard
1:24
it. Laughter. Not joyous, not cruel, but shaky.
1:28
Like someone giggling through a breakdown. From
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the crater's center rose a spiraling body covered
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in blinking, spiraling eyes. Two enormous wings
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spread out like a cathedral window, catching
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fire, and a wide grin split across its face.
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Spiked, sun -like rays jutted from its head,
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and its body slithered with nervous energy. It
1:59
was thorn -edge. It billowed with a nervous twitch.
2:05
I controlled anxiety. I can fly at you and drop
2:09
thorns of anxiety on ya. Its laughter sent out
2:12
pulses that made our thoughts blur. Doubts, worries,
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regrets. I saw flashes of every mistake I ever
2:19
made. Every time I've hesitated. Every mission
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I'd second -guessed. But I'm Stella Ferris. I
2:28
know what fear feels like, and I don't run. I
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summoned the calming light from my velstone,
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channeling it into a reflective barrier. We've
2:41
all got anxiety, I said, but we don't let it
2:44
drive. The barrier reflected its pulse back at
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it, its fears, its spiraling thoughts, and its
2:52
faltered in midair. I don't. I don't want to
2:57
hurt anyone. I just didn't want to be alone,"
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Thorn Edge whispered. That's when I stepped forward,
3:02
holding out my hand. Then don't be. It spiraled
3:06
down, gently, folding its wings around itself.
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I reached out, touched its head, and the glyph
3:13
-bound bond sealed with a golden shimmer. The
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anxious laughter softened into a quiet hum. I
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thought that I had caught Thorn Edge in that
3:27
moment, but he completely destroyed the glyphid,
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his spikes, pulsing out and shattering the glyphid
3:35
into a million pieces. Thorn Edge flew up into
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the sky. And that's when I stepped forward, hand
3:47
outstretched. Don't be afraid. But he spiraled
3:54
down gently, folding his wings around himself,
3:59
like a fallen angel. The storm ease, the static
4:03
fell away, and I finally reached to touch his
4:06
head, and that's when it snapped. Its grin didn't
4:11
fade, it widened. The sudden whip of its body
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thorned, screamed. Not in fear, but in panic,
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fueled rage. A thousand thoughts hit us like
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daggers, and then, With one sickening lurch,
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its jagged, spiraled tail struck the capture
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glyphid behind me. Flash of light. A shattering
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sound like glass meeting eternity. The glyphid
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screamed and was gone. Shattered into a million
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fragments, up here veiled energy. No, I screamed,
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the bond fading before it could ever form. Senna
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and Luna shouted behind me. Too late. Thorn Edge
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hovered above, panting heavily, its spiraling
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eyes darting in every direction. I didn't mean
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to. I didn't, it cried. I didn't want it to go
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away. I just, why does everything leave? I stared
5:07
up at it, stunned, heart pounding, my thoughts
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a thunderstorm, and then I understood. Thorn
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Edge hadn't calmed down. It had suppressed the
5:18
panic long enough to get close, and when it felt
5:21
safe, the fear exploded. It wasn't ready to bond,
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not yet. I stepped back, fell stone, glowing
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dimly in my palm. Retreat, I whispered. This
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isn't a win, not today. We went back the following
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Vathan, which is the word for weekend on my planet.
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The crater was quieter this time, no static,
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no pulsing laughter, just the wind whispering
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through the broken glyphstones like it was trying
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to remember a song. Xena stayed behind at the
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ridge with Ignizura. Luna walked halfway with
6:01
me, then stopped me and her, curling around her
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legs like a watchful shadow. I think he's waiting
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for you, Luna whispered. She was right. Thorn
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Edge was already there, hovering. Not circling,
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not spinning, just waiting. Like he'd known all
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along, the last time wasn't the last time. His
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spiral body drooped low, not in aggression, but
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exhaustion. The golden spines on his back were
6:27
dull, like fear had worn him thin. I thought
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I broke everything, he said. I didn't want to
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be seen again, but I couldn't stop hoping you'd
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come back. I stepped into the crater alone, heart
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racing, but this time not from fear, from understanding.
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You didn't break everything, I said. You only
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proved yourself still hurting. He blinked slowly.
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The thousands of spiraling eyes along his body
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didn't flicker with panic this time. They shimmered,
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reflecting me. Not a threat, not a savior, just
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me. He lowered his head. If I try again, will
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you let me? This time I didn't reach out first.
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I waited. and thorn -edged trembling, terrified
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and brave reached for me. The glyph -bond flared
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into existence like a meteor bursting open a
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dark sky, but it was different, not gold, silver,
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the color of healing, of second chances, of starlight
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and deep water. His spiraling form hovered inches
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above the crater floor, wings slack, like even
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gravity didn't know what to do with him. For
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a long time neither of us spoke. I could feel
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it, the pain he carried, not just fear, but layers
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of it, abandonment, failure, regret, years of
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spiraled thoughts twisted so tight around his
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core that he probably forgot what it felt like
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to just exist without them. I don't want to be
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a storm anymore, he said quietly. You don't have
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to, I replied. There was no dramatic flash, no
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heroic music. No last -minute charge, just stillness
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and choice. When he leaned forward, every feather
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on his massive wings trembled. He was terrified,
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but he still chose to trust me. My fingers brushed
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against his head and something shifted, not violently,
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not all at once. It was like a knot slowly undoing
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itself after being pulled tight for too long.
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He let out a sound I hadn't heard from him before.
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Not laughter, not a scream, a sigh, a long and
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shaking sigh, like he'd been holding his breath
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for years. And just like that, the thorns began
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to fall, not shattered, not torn out. They loosened,
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one by one, gently like petals dropping from
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a flower that had been clenched in the winter.
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His spirals, once erratic and jittering, with
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tension, slowed into a peaceful rhythm. The eyes
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across his body no longer darted and blinked
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with panic. They closed in relief. He was finally
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still. I felt the bond really form, not a temporary
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connection, not something forced by battle or
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desperation. This was earned, chosen, shared.
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For the first time, Thorn Edge wasn't trying
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to protect me from his pain. He was letting me
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stand with him inside it, and together we walked
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out of it. He stayed close afterwards, not because
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he had to, but because he wanted to. When he
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flew beside me, there was no anxious circling.
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When he spoke, his voice didn't shake. When he
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rested, his wings tucked gently around his body
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like a nest, no longer a shield. And once, while
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we sat on the ridge, as the stars blinked overhead,
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he looked up and whispered, I think I like who
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I am now. So do I. But now it came the time to
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take Thorn Edge back to my sanctuary house. The
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gateway shimmered behind us, closing with a soft
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chime of starlight as we stepped through. My
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sanctuary, our sanctuary, welcomed us. With its
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usual hush of peace, the glow of lantern, light
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flickering through hanging vines, crystals humming
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gently in the ceiling beams, thorn -edge hovered
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in the threshold, just inside the threshold of
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the pyramid -shaped home. He didn't say anything
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at first, he just looked. His massive wings curled
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in close to his body as if afraid to knock something
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over. The silver spirals, on his form, dimmed
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to a soft glow like moonlight on water. It's
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okay, I said, reaching up to lightly touch his
11:03
head, or the edge of his wings. You're safe here.
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He nodded slowly, but I could tell safe was still
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a new word for him, or a beak chirped from the
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rafters, feathers puffed proudly, Santa peeked
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from the second -floor balcony, giving Thornedge
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a small approving nod. Luna stood near the mirno
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perched to like a sleepy guardian at her feet.
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Thorn edge drifted forward, careful not to let
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his feather tips graze the crystal shelves lining
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the walls. He paused when he saw a mirror hanging
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in the hallway, an old one I'd picked up from
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a vell market, its surface rippling faintly.
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He stared at his reflection, then he said softly,
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I don't look scared here. I walked up beside
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him, you never were. You just didn't know where
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you belonged. His spiraling eyes blinked, and
12:04
this place lets me. I smiled, if it wants you.
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He followed me into the heart room, where each
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glyph has their resting space, which had nests
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of stone, others mossy stones, suspended hammocks,
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or pools of light. I showed him his. It wasn't
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big, just a quiet hollow line with soft clouds
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and spiral -shaped stones. A warm breeze gently
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circling above it, a place made for him, a reflection
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of his true form calmer, kinder. He hovered above
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it for a moment, then slowly descended. Letting
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his wings fold fully for the first time, since
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I'd met him, he curled up beside the hollow,
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his spiraled tail gently circling his body. A
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sigh escaped him, peaceful this time. I didn't
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think I'd ever sleep again, he said. You're home
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now, I told him. No one's afraid of you here.
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There was a long silence and a voice so small
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I almost didn't hear it. Not even me. That night
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I stayed nearby, just in case, but Thorn Edge
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didn't spiral. He didn't twist, twitch, or shake,
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or hum with panic. He dreamed. And in the morning,
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when I woke up, he was already waiting near the
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kitchen trying to brew tea, using only the warmth
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of his feathers. It was a disaster, but we laughed,
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and it was perfect. I helped him to brew his
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tea. The tea was bitter, too many star flower
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petals, not enough bellroot. Thornedge had tried
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to swirl the ingredients into place with his
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feathers, but they got tangled in the steam and
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he panicked mid -brew. Still, I helped him fix
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it. We added a drop of honey -vine syrup, a pinch
14:02
of solar bark. He stirred with the tip of his
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spiral tail. far more careful this time. When
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he poured it into mismatched ceramic mugs, one
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chipped, one glittering faintly like a comet,
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it wasn't perfect. But it was warm and real.
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We took our cups and stepped outside. The front
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porch creaked gently beneath us. Lined with climbing
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vines and hanging chimes, shaped like drifting
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moons, the air smelled like soft lighting in
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morning dew. Marino coiled under the rail, already
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dozing. Ignisura let out a distant snort of contentment
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from Xena's window. And above us, the sky didn't
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move. It never did. Two suns and three moons.
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frozen in their celestial dance. The golden suns
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lit the eastern edge of the sky, casting honey
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-like over the trees. The blue suns, or the blue,
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the red, and the green suns shimmered near the
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clouds, stuck in eternal dusk. The red one pulsed
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softly, giving everything a quiet warmth. And
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the moon that's blue and full, watched over it
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like a keeper of secrets, while the green one
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just sat there. Thornhead stared in awe, steam
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curling from his mug like a wisp of his old self,
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finally let go. The sky, he whispered, it doesn't
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change. No, I said, but it still shines. He sipped
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his tea carefully, holding the mug with three
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spiral -wrapped feathers. I used to think I needed
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this guy to move, that if it stayed still I'd
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get stuck. I looked at him, and now? He looks
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back, eyes soft, now? I think it's okay to rest
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where things feel safe. We didn't speak for a
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while after that, we just sat. Me with my hands
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wrapped around my mug, Thorn Edge humming quietly,
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his spirals not spinning, but pulsing gently.
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Like that. of the soft tide of a heartbeat. The
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sun stayed right where they were, the moon watched,
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and for once neither of us needed to pass. We
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had not now, and now was enough. I took a larger
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sip of tea, bittersweet, earthy and still steaming,
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just enough to fog the edge of my mug. So thorn
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-edged, I said, keeping my voice light, I was
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thinking maybe sometime we could visit the verdant
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market, you know, grab a few things for your
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space in the sanctuary." He blinked, spiraling
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eyes, focusing slowly, thoughtfully. For my space,
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he asked, as if the idea still surprised him.
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You mean like pillows? I smiled him into my cup.
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Sure, if you want. Or some calming stones. Or
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wind bells. Or maybe one of those bio -light
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mushrooms that flicker like dreams. The market
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always has weird stuff. He tilted his head, feathers
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gently shifting like leaves in wind. I've never
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shopped before. You're not missing much, I teased,
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unless you love hanging with bark -skinned goblins
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over fungus. Start haggling with bark -skinned
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goblins over fungus prices. That earned a soft
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snort. from him a laugh even the spirals on his
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body gave a gentle flicker of silver brighter
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than before i think i'd like that he said finally
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having things not just armor and spikes but things
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i chose things that are mine exactly i said you've
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carved out a space here thorn edge might as well
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decorate it he looked out toward the horizon
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again the sun hadn't shifted They never would.
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The moons hadn't blinked. They never would. But
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something in him had something subtle and sacred.
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After a pause, he whispered, do they sell mirrors
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there? Ones that don't show you what you were,
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but what you're becoming? I glanced at him, then
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leaned my shoulders into his, warm and steady.
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They might, and if not, we'll make one. He didn't
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answer right away, but... He leaned back into
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me, just slightly spirals resting easy for the
18:50
first time in a long time, and together we kept
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sipping our tea, bathed in the soft light of
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the unmoving heavens, making quiet plans for
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the future Thornedge had never thought he'd have.
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The mugs were now nearly empty. The sky hadn't
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changed, but something in the air felt different,
19:12
softer, like the world had leaned in to listen.
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Thorn -Edge was quiet, feathers gently shifting
19:20
in the breeze. Spirals no longer spun out of
19:24
control. They pulsed with a rhythm that felt
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almost peaceful. I turned towards him, watching
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the way the tease warmth still curled from his
19:35
breath. Then I said it, not dramatically, not
19:39
with ceremony, but simply and from the heart.
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Thank you, Thornedger, my newest friend, and
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I'll cherish you. For a moment I thought he might
19:48
spiral again, not from panic, but from emotion
19:51
too big to hold. But instead his glow brightened,
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soft, silver, shimmering across his wings, a
20:00
few feathers floating gently to the porch floor
20:03
like falling stars. I've never been cherished
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before, he said, voice thick with wonder, not
20:11
like this. You are now I said welcome home. He
20:15
tucked one long wing gently around his back Or
20:20
around my back carefully gently like he was learning
20:23
what it meant to hold instead of protect And
20:27
in the frozen sky in the unmoving moment we sat
20:30
together two beings who had both spiraled Now
20:35
still now safe and now friends And that, my friends,
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is another story and another episode. I will
20:48
see you next time. May the gods of Nibiru shine
20:52
their light down on you. Thank you. Goodbye.