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Transcript

Geri Beak · The Monster Catcher's Journal

0:15
Hello Travelers and Monster Catchers Abound.
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I'm Stelliferous and this is the Monster Catcher's
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Journal Podcast. Today's episode is about Jarabeek.
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The inato Desert stretched out before me an endless
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sea of golden sand and jagged red cliffs. The
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heat shimmered under numerous twin suns, distorting
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light. Sparse patches of glass root shrubs, their
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crystalline leafs, sharp as blades, clung to
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the cracked ground. The air is thick with silence.
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broken only by the occasional whistle of wind
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carving through the rocky dunes. I adjusted my
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glyph compass. It's pulsing blue light flickering
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erratically. Jarabic was close. For weeks I had
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been tracking this elusive glyph. A towering
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fusion of giraffe and ostrich. Its powerful legs
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built for speed. This carved beak strong enough
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to crush stone. But what made it truly legendary
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was its feathered mirage cloak. An ability that
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let it bend light, vanishing into the desert
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like a living mirage. Most monster catchers had
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tried and felled to capture it. Some swore it
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wasn't real. I had studied the Anato Desert's
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records, followed the shifting migration patterns,
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and listened to the old wanderers who had seen
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it only for a moment before it disappeared. Today
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I would not blink. I crouched low, running my
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fingers through the warm, shifting grains the
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hoof claw prints were fresh. Stretching in long
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strides across the dunes, Jared Beek had been
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here minutes ago. A sudden ripple in the air
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caught my attention, a distortion, like heat
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waves rising from the sand. My pulse quickened
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in silence, no wind, no distant calls of desert
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creatures, nothing. Jared Beek was watching me.
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Slowly, I reached into my satchel and pulled
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out a handful of storm root dust, a fine glowing
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powder that clung to movement and energy. In
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a swift motion, I threw it into the air. The
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dust swirled and then stuck to something huge.
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The outline of Jerebeek appeared before me, a
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towering, elegant figure with long sinewy legs
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and a graceful, fully arched neck. Feathers shimmered
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like liquid gold, flickering between visibility
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and complete transparency. His golden eyes locked
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onto mine, intelligent and unreadable. For a
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heartbeat, we shared our stare to each other.
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Sorry, then it bolted. Trying to tell you guys
2:41
just how my encounter with Jerobiek went, I think
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I'm having a little bit of trouble letting it
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come out fluently. I'm very sorry if I mess up
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on my words and I hope that you guys will enjoy
2:55
this true tell of how I caught Jerobiek. Jerobiek
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moved like a desert storm fast. Unpredictable,
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unstoppable, its feet barely touched the sand
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as it glided over the dunes, kicking up spirals
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of dust behind it. I sprinted after it, heart
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pounding, my rift, boots, hummed with energy,
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boosting my strides, but even then I was barely
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keeping up. Jerigbeak veered toward the cracked
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mezza, a treacherous expanse of uneven stone
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that jutted from the sand like the ribs of a
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buried giant. If it made it past the cliffs,
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it would vanish again into the desert, and I
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would lose it. Not this time. I reached into
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my belt and grabbed a face snare, a special trap
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designed for speed -based glyphs. It was the
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only glyph that I could use on this kind of glyph.
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So, anyways, it was a special trap designed for
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speed -based glyphs. Timing was everything. I
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had to throw it at just the right moment. Jarabic
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leaped onto a rock ledge. It's golden feathers
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flickering. It was seconds away from disappearing.
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I threw the snare. The air crackled as the device
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unfurled. Releasing an electromagnetic net that
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wrapped around Jarabic's legs, the creature let
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out a sharp, almost offended squawk as if stumbled.
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Or as it stumbled, it's body flickering between
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visible and invisible. I rushed forward, placing
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my glyphid on the ground. The ancient symbols
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etched into its surface began to glow, pulling
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in the energy of the trapped creature. And just
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as I was about to capture the creature, he got
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loose. And in the swift moment, Jarrowbeak had
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broken my face near, so I had to try another
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face near. So reaching into my satchel, I grabbed
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out a second face near, but it missed. The net
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flew wide, catching nothing but air. I skid it
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to a halt, breathing, breath -burning in my chest.
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My boots hummed, then winded, out of charge.
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I collapsed to my knees, sand pouring between
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my fingers. High on a distant ridge I saw it,
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Jerabic, a golden ghost against the red sky.
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It paused for a heartbeat, looking back, and
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then vanished into the heat haze. I had felled.
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The glyphid in my satchel stayed closed, silent
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and empty. I stayed in the desert long after
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Jerebik disappeared. The silence returned heavy
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and thick. I watched the sun dip its light longer
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and longer because I know that the suns they
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never come down from the sky. The suns and the
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moons of Nibiru just sit there right there in
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the middle of the sky. But anyways, so casting
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long shadows over the dunes, I let myself feel
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the frustration, the ache of all the weeks, the
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planning, the close call. But while I was sitting
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there feeling sorry for myself, I decided I was
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going to catch him. It was not going to be a
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loss. And once with movement, I grabbed my glyphot,
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the backup device I carried for emergency captures
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and slammed it into the sand. I wouldn't lose
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Jarrahfig, not now, not after everything. The
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glyph it blinked once, then fizzled. The screen
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cracked, the runes flickered weakly, before vanishing
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entirely, broken. My heart sank, I barely had
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time to react before Jarrahfig let out a deep
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resonant cry. A sound like wind tearing through
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hollow stone, and then it charged. It came at
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me with terrifying speed, every step shaking
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the sand beneath my feet. I scramble back. The
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heat and fear mixing in my chest like fire, its
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golden beak glinted in the sunlight, and its
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long legs moved with the momentum of a landslide.
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But it didn't strike. The last possible second,
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Jeref beak swerved, picking up a spiral of hot
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wind and sand that blinded me. I stumbled coughing,
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shielding my eyes. When the dust settled, Jeref
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beak was gone again. I sat down in the sand,
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cliff it still in hand, broken and useless. I
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had been so sure, so certain that I could outsmart
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the desert. Outsmarts, or outmatch, one of the
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most elusive glyphs on Nibiru. But sometimes
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the wind doesn't care how prepared you are. Sometimes
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the wind humbles you. And maybe that's the point.
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Now you might think that's where my run -in with
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Jarabic ends, but you'd be wrong. I went back
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the next week. Something about the way it looked
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at me right before it vanished into the dunes
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stuck with me. That charge doesn't mean to harm.
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It was a warning, or maybe a test. But a test
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of what? So I returned, this time, not as a hunter,
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but as a student. No sneer, no broken glyphot,
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just me. A repaired compass and a small satchel
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of offerings. Mirage berries, sun -cracked minerals,
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and a polished mirror stone, said to reflect
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one's spirit. I camped at the edge of the cra
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- mezza where the wind never stops whispering
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and the sand sings strange lullabies at night
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days past I saw nothing but on the fourth morning
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just as the sun began there just as the Sun's
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began their ever -present light I woke to silence
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no birds no wind no sound so just the soft soft
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crunch of sand I turned slowly there it was Jerebeek
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Not cloaked in mirage this time, fully visible.
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Golden feathers glittering like firelight, long
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neck tilted curiously, head cocked, as if it
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was studying me this time. No fear, no chase,
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just recognition. I reached into my satchel and
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gently rolled a mirage berry onto the sand between
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us. Jerabic stepped forward slowly and deliberate.
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It sniffed the fruit then looked at me. then
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it lowered its head, not submission, but respect.
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And then it was gone again, leaving only a single
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iridescent feather in the sand where it stood.
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I didn't catch Jerebik, but I think something
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even rarer happened. I was seen by it not as
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a threat, not as a predator, but as a fellow
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traveler, and maybe that's the real cat. After
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my second encounter with Jerebik, I didn't head
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to another hunt. I returned home to the towering
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spires of Luan Academy, where the twin sons filtered
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through stained glass and the halls hummed with
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whispers of ancient glyph lore. My boots were
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still caked in dirt, sand, sorry, desert sand.
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When I stepped into Professor Orian's office,
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the air smelled of parchment, old tea, and ozone.
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Exactly how it always did. Not my favorite thing
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to be exact, but... The professor sat at his
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desk, his back to me, fingers gliding through
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glowing glyphs' protections, floating mid -air.
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Without turning, he said, you didn't capture
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it, did you? I let the single shimmering feather
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fall onto his desk. He turned, finally meeting
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my eyes. Ah, so you did find it. I nodded. I
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found Jarebeek twice. I told him everything,
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the broken glyphid, the charge, the second journey,
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the offering, the silence, the trust. He listened
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quietly, only interjecting once to mutter, fascinating,
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as I described the moment Jirabeeq lowered its
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head. When I finished, he tapped a long, knotted
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finger on the desk. You've just confirmed what
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the old legend only hinted at. He stood walking
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slowly to one of the shelves. He pulled down
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a dusty tome, bound in cracked leather, pages
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etched with sunny, faded ink. Jarabeek isn't
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just a speed -based glyph. It's a sentient -bound,
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rare ancient. Some of the first glyphs forged
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under Nibiru's twin sons were given the ability
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to choose their bond, not through force, not
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through capture, through connection. He turned
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the book so I could see an old sketch. Jarabeek,
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wings outstretched, neck arched, eyes glowing.
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They were the Watchers, the Judges, if One deems
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you worthy, you may follow. Or they may follow
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you, sorry. My heart pounded, so it can join
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me, but not like the others. Orian smiled faintly.
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No, Jarabeeq must want to walk beside you. It
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isn't bound by a pyramid -style atheris. It's
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bound by trust. I look down at the feather in
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my hand, feeling its warmth hummed gently against
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my skin. I think... I think it is watching me.
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Professor Orian nodded. then don't hurt anyone
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anymore or hunt it anymore. Then what do I do?
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You wait, he simply said. You learn, you grow.
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Let it see who you truly are. This wasn't my
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finest moment, but in the next moments I cried
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a bit and threw a little bit of a hissy fit.
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But I want to catch it, and now I cried. The
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words burst out of me before I could stop them.
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My voice cracked, echoing off the tall stone
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walls of the Academy Archives. I wiped, angrily,
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at my face, but the tears kept coming, hot, bitter,
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blurring the shimmering feather in my hand. Professor
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Orient turned slowly from the shelves he didn't
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look surprised, in the least. He didn't scald
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me. He just nodded. It's not fair, I whispered.
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I've trained. I've studied. I've chased it through
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a sandstorm. I nearly got trampled. I earned
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this. I deserve it." He stepped forward, his
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eyes ancient and star -bright, softening. Wanting
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it doesn't make you weak, he said. Crying doesn't
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make you wrong. What you feel is valid, Stelaferis,
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but sometimes the wild doesn't care about what
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we've earned. It cares about who we are in the
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waiting. I clenched my fist. I don't want to
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wait. He placed a hand on my shoulder. Then don't.
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That night I stood alone at the Academy Skybridge.
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The wind hugging at my coat. Stars like fireflies
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caught in the web of the night. Sorry. I messed
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up all my words there, guys, but I keep doing
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it. I held the broken glyphid in my hand and
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the golden feather in the other. And I made a
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decision. If Jarabic wouldn't come to me, then
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I'd go back. Not to beg, not to plead, but to
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try again. To prove that I wasn't giving up.
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Not on the glyph. Not on myself. I cried today.
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I broke down in front of one of the most respected
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professors in the galaxy and I'm not ashamed
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because I'm Stella Ferris. And tomorrow, I return
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to the desert. Not to wait, but to catch Jarabic.
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No matter what. Oh guys, third time's a charm,
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because this is not even where the story ends,
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because I went back to the Unado Desert a third
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time to try and catch the Jerabic. The Unado
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Desert greeted me like an old rival, you know?
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The wind was sharper, the sun's hotter, sand
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somehow heavier beneath my boots. My heart pounded
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louder than the wind, and I could still hear
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my voice from the night in the archives, breaking,
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trembling, full of pain. I wanted to catch it.
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I needed to. This wasn't about proving anything
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to Professor Orian or to the other catchers who
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whispered about failed missions. This wasn't
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even about the Academy anymore. This was about
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me and Jerebeek. The third time, the final time,
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I returned with no backup. No face near. No fancy
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tech, just one repaired glyphid. Reforged by
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my own hands and my own two feet. I follow the
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patterns again, found the fresh tracks, traced
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the shimmering lights across the horizon. And
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when I saw the flickering of lights rippling
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across the dunes, I didn't throw anything. I
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ran. Jerobik saw me. I know it did. And like
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the wind itself, it moved, graceful, untouchable,
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mocking. The chase was on again. I don't know
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how long we ran. My boots were burning, my lungs
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were on fire, my vision blurred, but I didn't
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stop. Jarabic glanced back and that was my opening.
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I placed my glyphit and powered it. With a pulse
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crystal, I'd found buried deep in the cracked
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mezza. The moment it hit the ground, the device
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roared to life, forming a glowing triangle that
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shimmered with blue light, not a trap, an invitation.
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Jerabic slowed, and for one impossible moment
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it stepped into the light. The glyphot locked,
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the triangle snapped shut. Energy surged through
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the sand like a shockwave. The wind howled, the
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desert roared, and then silence. The night faded.
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The glyphot was sealed, my hands trembling as
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I picked it up. I laughed, I cried. And through
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exhausted breaths, I whispered, third time's
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a charm. I did it. I finally did it, Jerobique
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is mine! Not because I forced it, because I didn't
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give up, and because I earned its respect, and
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maybe because it saw something in me too. This
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is Stelifera signing off, with sand in my teeth,
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sweat in my eyes, and Jerobique by my side, to
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all the travelers and monster catchers out there.
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Don't let failure bear you, let it shape you.
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And remember, sometimes a third time isn't just
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the charm. is the beginning of something greater.
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I mean, I have Jarabique now! He's a very amazing
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glyph, and, well, when he meets the other glyphs,
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I think he'll be very happy. Actually, you know
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what? We're not going to get off here yet, because
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I want to tell you about how he reacted in the
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Sanctuary. Catching Jarabique was one thing,
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getting him to settle into life in - Pyramid
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House and Sanctuary. Well, let's just say he's
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not exactly a team player. Our Pyramid House,
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my Sanctuary, my home, where Xena and I live
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with all our glyphs, is usually a peaceful glowing
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haven built with golden sandstone and shimmering
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energy panels. It hums with a soft ancient warmth.
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Light filters through crystal skylights. Wind
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chimes sing with enchanted notes. Let's snap
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in sunbeams, snack in shared gardens, and occasionally
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get into friendly mischief. It's calm, cozy,
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beautiful. Jarabic hates it. The moment I released
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him into the high atrium, Jarabic stretched his
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long neck, looked around and let out a shrill,
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offended scok that echoed off the pyramid's inner
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walls. He stomped past the zen. sand garden.
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Ignored the sun -baked perch I made just for
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him and glared at our communal berry table like
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it hadn't sought to his bloodline. Senna tried
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to cheer him up with some golden mirage berries
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and a feather massage. She's dramatic, but she
19:03
means well. But he just flared his wings and
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knocked the bowl straight into the reflecting
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pole. Now he's claimed the very tip of the pyramid.
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skylight as his personal throne, roosting up
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there and watching us like some ancient guardian
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with serious attitude. He screeches at dawn,
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every dawn, loud enough to rattle my tea mugs.
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He glares at the other glyphs like they're beneath
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him, except for Pickles, my ghost dog, who he
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tolerates only because Pickles floats and doesn't
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talk. Even the pyramid's energy sensors seem
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confused. The automatic sunlight adjusts dim
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when he walks by. I swear, one of the stone doors
19:49
shut him itself when he approached. I tried to
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talk to him yesterday, heart to heart. Just me,
19:55
a desert legend, and a plate of mirage berries.
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He stared at me, huffed, then turned and popped
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off the ledge. Right on to Zena's meditation
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rug. Jerobique is moody, sun -loving, attention
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-demanding. feathered drama queen and I absolutely
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adore him he doesn't love the pyramid yet but
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this is his home now our home in one way or another
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he'll come to see that even if it takes a hundred
20:22
mirage berries a thousand sun baths and several
20:25
deep cleanings of zena's favorite rug this is
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still a ferris signing off from a pyramid full
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of love lights and one very cranky desert glyph
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stay curious stay patient and maybe check your
20:38
roof for angry birds. And remember, one failure
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does not mean that you should weep. One failure
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means that you should take it and make it into
20:52
lemonade. Meaning you should take it and turn
20:54
it around and make it something good. This is
20:57
Salifarus saying goodbye.