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The Talisman Of Nor · The Monster Catcher's Journal

0:41
crash -land it on the Monster Catchers Journal
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podcast. Today's episode isn't about capturing
0:50
a rogue glyph in the windswept peaks of Talisman,
0:54
or decoding a lost sigil from the tombs of echoing
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souls, no. Today's episode is a tale that's a
1:04
little different. It's not about catching a glyph
1:07
at all. Instead, we're returning to one of my
1:09
favorite places in all of Nibiru. the verdant
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market. A lush sprawling bazaar draped in vines
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and bioluminescent lanterns nestled deep in the
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heart of the Greenstead region. You can smell
1:23
the spices from five streets away and the buzz
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of haggling voices fills like a heartbeat. I
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was there chasing a rumor, an ancient relic known
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only as the Talisman of Nohr. Small jet black
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worn as a necklace and said to grant its bearer
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the ability to neutralize even the most evasive
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flying glyph. Lately, the sanctuary had been
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swarmed with sky -borne troublemakers, glyphs
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with wings like razors and talons itching for
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a duel, so I need an edge badly. I brought Orabeek,
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of course, my loyal companion. Luna tagged along
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with Merno, her stubborn horn -headed part meerkat,
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part rhinoglyph, Xenna joined us to riding side
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saddle with Ignazura, her sapphire coated tiger
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with ruby flame stripes that lit the path like
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a living torch. We didn't know what we were walking
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into because that night just so happened to be
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the festival of the sixfold leaf. Picture this,
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hundreds of Naberans weaving between stalls,
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laughter spilling over as children chased paper
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-winged bugs through the pathways, the air thick
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with the scent of roasted bloom fruit, and fermented
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jazzy milk. Everywhere I looked, people were
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in six petaled robes dyed in emerald, copper,
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and gold, each fold representing a blessing from
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the verdalis tree. said to be the heart of the
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market itself, shouts a blessed six to you, echoed
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from rooftops to cart. The crowd thickened, and
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before we knew it, Orbeek, Zentronaut, and I
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had gotten separated from Xena, Luna, and the
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other two glyphs. I called out, but my voice
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drowned beneath the merchant's booming merchant
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advertisement. Liquid starlight soap! And Glyph
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nipped two ropes. My stomach growled loudly.
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That's when I smelled it. A wave of grilled meat
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and spicy citrus hit me so hard it nearly knocked
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me back. I turned and saw a tall man standing
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behind a smoky wooden stall where long skewers
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of carnivora bloom sizzled above glowing coals.
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But it wasn't just the meat. It was the sauce.
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Thick, sticky, and greenish gold. The smell was
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earthy, citrusy, with a kick of something wild,
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Rodolus leaf sauce. Free samples, the man said,
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holding out a skewer. His eyes were shadowed
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by deep purple circles, and he looked like he
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hadn't slept in weeks. I'll take one, I said,
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unable to resist. The moment my teeth sank into
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the meat, time stopped. The flavor exploded.
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Sweet like sunset nectar, tangy like electrified
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lemons. and with a salty, smoky undertone that
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made my knees buckle. I don't even like meat
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that much, but I almost cried. How, I whispered,
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eyes wide. The man just smiled sadly and pointed
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at the bubbling pot of sauce behind him. That's
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the kind of market the Verdant is, where you
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lose people and find magic. Anyway, I kept moving,
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winding through alleys of hanging crystal fruits.
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and powdered dream fruit until I stumbled upon
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a strange, crooked little stall tucked between
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two large ones. The front table was covered in
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moth -bitten cloth and displayed only one item,
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a pocket watch -looking thing made from green
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brass, its face ticking backwards. That's when
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I heard a gravelly voice behind me. Ah, you're
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interested in the timepiece, are you? I turned
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to see a lanky man with wiry hair sticking up
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all over the place in all directions, leaning
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forward with fingers draped like spiders over
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the counter. It allows any glyph holding it to
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pause time for precisely fifty seconds. He continued,
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eyes gleaming. Yours for fifty, Baron. Baron?
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I blinked. I'd never heard of that currency before.
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I thought everyone used universified credits.
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Ah, no. No, miss. He sighed. I'm from Eastern
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Nibiru. We've got our own system. Old school.
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I'm a traveling salesman. Can't afford to pay
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the unification tax. I felt my face flush. I'm
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sorry. I didn't even know. I only have VAR dollars
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and VAR coins. He waved a hand. No worries. I
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can exchange. How much? He looked around, leaned
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in close, and whispered 500 VAR dollars. What?
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I gasped. That was practically robbery. I turned
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to leave when suddenly he whimpered, like a wounded
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pet. You don't want my family to eat tonight,
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he said, eyes welling with sparkly crocodile
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tears. I stared at him. He wasn't just playing
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me. He was practically performing a stage drama.
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Ugh, fine. I s - slapped the cash into his grimy
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hands, but this better work. He bowed deeply
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as I snatched the stopwatch from the stall and
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stormed off into the crowd, clutching the warm
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metal in my palm. I still wasn't sure if I'd
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just been scammed or if I'd brought something
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that could change everything, but that's the
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risk with these things, right? The stopwatch
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was warm. Almost too warm. I tucked it into my
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satchel, tried to shake off the filling I'd been
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swindled, and kept moving. The deeper I walked
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into the market, the more surreal things became.
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The booths weren't just stalls anymore, they
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were structures, towering with twisted wood and
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fluttering banners that glowed from within. One
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was shaped like a giant moth wing. Another had
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floating lanterns tethered to nothing, hovering
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above the heads of buyers who looked half -spirit,
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half -human. A child ran past me with a balloon
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shaped like a glyph, one I'd never seen before.
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All beaks and wisps and too many blinking eyes.
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That's when I saw it. A stall made entirely of
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living bark. pulsing slightly like it had a heartbeat.
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Twisted roots curled up the sides like skeletal
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fingers, and in the center, carved into the trunk
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of the tree, was a glowing green symbol. An old
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Nibirin rune, meaning truth hidden in shadows.
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I'd found it, the stall of the ancient mystic.
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But the crowd had thinned. The music quieted.
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It was like the world muffled itself when I stepped
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near. Aura Beak tilted his head and let out a
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soft ca -ru -ca -ru -ca -ru, sensing something
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was off. Even Centerknot, normally aloof, dropped
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down from my shoulder and crawled into my coat
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sleeve. I approached the stall slowly. Behind
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it stood a figure draped in moss green robes
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that shimmered like oil on water. Their face
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was hidden behind a bone -white mask. and etched
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with dozens of tiny moving glyphs, not glowing,
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moving, like the mask itself was whispering.
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Welcome, daughter of twilight. The voice wasn't
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loud, but it echoed inside my mind more than
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in my ears. I froze. How do you know who I am?
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The talisman of Noor has chosen to be found,
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and you are late. I swallowed. Do you have it?
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The mystic tilted their head, then reached beneath
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the folds of their robe and brawn out a box no
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bigger than a tarot deck. It was made of polished
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obsidian wood. Bound and single -braided silver
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vine that hissed when it moved. One question,
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the mystic said. Do you seek this power for battle
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or for protection? I hesitate it. A festival
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firework boomed somewhere far off. Protection,
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I said. My sanctuary, it's been invaded. Flying
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glyphs. They're aggressive. Coordinated. Something's
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stirring them up. The mystic nod at once. Then
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you may take it. But be warned. They push the
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box forward. Power draws hunger. And the talisman
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is not the only thing that woke up tonight. My
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fingers brush the box. Immediately a jolt ran
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up my arm. A pulse of soundless thunder that
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hit behind my eyes, I gasped. For just a second,
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I wasn't in the market anymore. I saw ash skies,
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wings of obsidian, a tower of roots rising from
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a sea of bones, and a single eye enormous blinking
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in a black sky. Then it was gone. I staggered
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back. Aura Beak let out a sharp cry and spread
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his wings defensively. What was that, I demanded,
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clutching the box to my chest. The mystic was
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already turning, robes fluttering like falling
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leaves. A glimpse, their voice faded into the
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crowd, of what you will have to face. I didn't
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find Luna or Xena until hours later. We had to
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climb to the highest root bridge, over the market
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just to spot them again. Luna was covered in
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flower garlands, and Xena had... bought two sacks
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of spice dust for no reason except that they
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smelled like old dreams. But when they saw my
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face, they knew something had happened. Something
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bigger than the talisman, bigger than any glyph.
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Something was waking up in Nibiru, and it had
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its eye on me. The market didn't feel the same
12:00
after I left that stall. The music still played,
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the food still sizzled. Laughter still echoed,
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but to me, it all felt far away, distant, like
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I'd stepped out of sync with the festival rhythm.
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The box in my hand vibrated softly, like it had
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a heartbeat of its own. The braided silver vine
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around it had stopped hissing, but every time
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I glanced at it, I swore it shifted just slightly,
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as if watching me. I found Luna and Xenna near
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a stall. still holding the stuff that they had
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bought. When they saw me, the fun stopped. What
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happened? Xena asked, her voice dropped. You
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look like you just saw the Pelma. I think I saw
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something worse, I whispered. I showed them the
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box, neither of them touched it. Is that it?
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Luna said, eyeing it wearily. Try not it. The
13:04
Talisman of Nohr. We didn't linger. The market
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was winding down anyway. Vendors were closing
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up, sweeping glitter leaf confetti from the pathways.
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Somewhere nearby, a group of musicians stuck
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up the final six -fold leaf hem, the one meant
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to bring peace to the coming dusk. We left quietly.
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I tucked the box safely in my satchel and followed
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the others through the southern routeway, an
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arch path framed by hanging moss and glowing
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sea pods. I glanced over my shoulder one last
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time, the verdant market shimmered in the distance.
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Warm and golden, like it had never changed, but
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something had. Just as we stepped beyond the
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final vendor, a breeze blew past us, sharp, cold.
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Out of place, Orabik flared his wings, feathers
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puffing, Myrno snarled low in his throat, and
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even Ignazura's fiery stripes dimmed to a dull
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ruby. We paused. I looked up, the sky was cloudless,
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but a single feather drifted down, black as the
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void. Dripping with a strange silver ink, I picked
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it up. Without thinking, the moment I touched
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it, a word echoed in my mind. Return. Nothing
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else, just that. Xena didn't say anything, but
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she stepped closer. Luna reached for my arm.
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We kept walking. None of us said it out loud,
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but we all felt it. Whatever I woke up in that
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market, it wasn't done with us, and it definitely
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wasn't done with me. We made it back to the sanctuary
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just before dawn. I barely had time to set my
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satchel down before the first screech split the
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sky. Dozens, no scores of flying glyphs darkened
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the horizon. Razor -winged ones, feathered shriekers,
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even a few I didn't recognize. Glyphs shaped
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like storm clouds with eyes and metal -winged
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kites that left scorched trails in the air. They
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weren't just here to chat, either. They came
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to fight. Orabique flew up with a battle cry,
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but even he couldn't take on all of them alone.
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Merno was growling low, stomping the ground like
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a rhino, ready to charge. Ignizora's ruby flames
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curled along her spine. Then I remembered the
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talisman. I gaped the box from my satchel. It
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hummed in my hand, sensing the presence of hostile
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fight. The braided silver vines curled and the
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obsidian lid opened on its own. Inside was the
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talisman of Nohr, jet black smooth as a void
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stone, and pulsing with veins of violet light.
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It almost looked like a small wing curled inward.
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Without hesitation I slipped it over Orabiq's
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neck. The moment it touched his feathers, everything
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changed. A shockwave of energy burst outward,
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invisible but felt. My ears popped. The flying
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glyph paused midair, just for a second confused,
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and then Orbeek moved. He blurred a flash of
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silver and gold and dove straight through the
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formation like a comet. His talons struck a talon
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wing that had always dodged him before. This
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time, it dripped like a stone, tangled in its
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own wings. It's working! Luna shouted, her hands
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glowing as Myrna launched spines upward, striking
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down and diving hook beak that had taunted us
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for weeks. Xena grinned, riding on Ignazor's
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back, the sapphire tiger leapt into the air,
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leapt and swatted a sky leech right out of the
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clouds. Every strike landed, every dodge turned
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into a counter -attack. It was like the flying
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glyphs forgot how to fly. Morbic shone brighter
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than ever, his wings stretched wide, the talisman
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glowing at his throat like a miniature black
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sun. He let out a cry that echoed across the
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hills, pure victorious. The glyphs scattered.
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Those that didn't fall fled, some into the storm
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fronts on the sanctuary, others disappearing
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into clouds of mist. Within minutes the sky was
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clear. We stood in silence, panting, smiling,
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covered in cuts and dust and bits of feather,
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but victorious. I looked at the talisman, now
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dimmed to a soft purple flicker. It worked. It
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really worked. But something still lingered in
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the air, a pressure. Like we'd just passed a
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test and something was watching to see if we'd
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pass the next one. Luna turned to me. You think
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they'll come back? I didn't answer right away.
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I was looking to the north, toward the storm
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-torn cliffs of the Stormscar Delta. If they
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do, I said softly, we'll be ready. After the
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sky battle, and after the glyphs were driven
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off, I finally sat down. My legs ached, my arms
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stung from cuts I hadn't noticed in the heat
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of the fight. My voice was hoarse from shouting
19:07
commands, but my heart, that was steady. We protected
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the sanctuary for tonight. At least we were safe.
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I slumped down into my hammock, tucked between
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two long... Blooming whisper willows and exhaled
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for what felt like the first time in hours The
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air was thick with the scent of moss steam and
19:31
cinched feathers Or a big perch nearby grooming
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his wings carefully Luna and Zeno were leading
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Mirno and Ignizoro with herbal salves and Bits
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of dried starfruit jerky. Oh Sorry tending not
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leading And then, sentronaut, I croaked. There
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was a rustle in my hood, followed by a tiny salute
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from my shoulder. Tea, I whispered. Please, strong,
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sweet, Nibiran. He gave a dramatic nod, adjusting
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his little explorer satchel. Yes, he has one
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and vanished into the shadows like a tiny...
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Serious librarian on a mission. I closed my eyes.
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The stars twinkled above, just barely visible
20:25
through the tree canopy. I could hear soft music
20:28
drifting from the sanctuary's common area. Someone
20:32
had started playing a sky flute, the kind that
20:35
only plays when the wind breathes through it
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just right. For a moment I let go. My thoughts
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wandered. I thought about the talisman, the power
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I felt when I used it. The eyes in the sky. I
20:48
had seen... Sorry, the eye in the sky I had seen.
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The mystic's voice echoing in my bones. What
20:58
did they mean when they said the talisman chose
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to be found? Why not? Or why now, sorry? Centernot
21:07
reappeared triumphantly, holding a small mug
21:09
with both hands, barely bigger than he was. The
21:15
cup glowed faintly green. And the steam rose
21:20
from it, curled into delicate leaf patterns.
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He handed it to me like it was a priceless relic.
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Blessed be little tea prince, I muttered. I took
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a sip. Instant warmth flooded my chest. The flavor
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was earthy with a dash of something bright, citrus
21:39
pill in a mint root. The sweetness hit last,
21:43
a caramel glaze that lingered on the tongue.
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It was perfect. Thank you, Zinternot, curled
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up in the hammock beside me and yawned like a
21:51
squeaky hinge. I stared up at the sky again.
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Maybe we earned this peace just for tonight.
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Maybe not, but it's ours, and I'll guard it.
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Good night, Nibiru. Good night, Earth. Good night,
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everybody and all of the solar systems that inhabit
22:15
what is space. Stay smart, keep your glyphids
22:22
ready, and may the stars shine down on you, and
22:30
Dresthar keep his peace with you. Bye now, see
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you next time, travelers, and Monster Catchers
22:39
abound.