A Zoologist’s Guide to Surviving Magical Creatures

Anecdote #1: The Specter's Uninvited Motivation Talk

So, picture this: I'm standing in front of this massive obsidian gateway, and just when I think things might calm down for a second, this voice booms out of nowhere. It's deep, kind of echoey, and the first thing it says is, "Attachments bind the soul. Let them go, and you will be free."

Honestly, I almost snorted. It's like the guy has been watching too many motivational videos on YouTube.

Seriously, attachments bind the soul?

I'm trying to get through this trial, not sign up for some weird new age seminar.

And I couldn't help myself—because, you know, this is me we're talking about. I just look up at this faceless, ghostly figure and deadpan, "Cool speech. Do you do motivational seminars, or is this strictly a one-time gig?"

Behind me, I hear Agnos' voice, all serious and heavy with wisdom, like he's been trained in the art of talking sense into me. "Carl, that's not how motivational speeches work."

And I'm just like, "Really? Could've fooled me."

Honestly, if Agnos wasn't here, I would've just walked off at this point. A faceless spirit yelling about attachment is not my idea of a good time.

Anecdote #2: Flashbacks—Job Rejections and Family Moments

So, here's the thing about facing your biggest emotional challenge while standing in front of a massive fire-filled gate: your brain decides this is the perfect time to play your whole life's greatest hits—except it's not the good stuff.

It's all the "why you didn't get the job you wanted" moments. Flashbacks of me staring blankly at rejection emails from companies I've been dreaming about working for. Ugh.

I'm standing there, holding the fragment that's going to change my life, and suddenly—bam, my brain's like, "Hey, let's revisit that time you bombed the interview for your dream job. And maybe toss in the time you accidentally spilled coffee all over your resume too. You know, just for fun."

It's like my own personal highlight reel of failure.

But, of course, just when I'm about to spiral into a mini existential crisis, poof, my brain pulls up the happy moments.

My family on a beach trip, dad making terrible dad jokes, me trying to teach my mom how to fish (spoiler: it ended with a lot of tangled lines and a very cranky fish). It's like my mind is trying to balance the bad with the good, but it's honestly more confusing than helpful.

If my brain was an editor, it'd be the kind that cuts all the good parts and just loops the awkward stuff.

Anecdote #3: The Gateway's Big Speech (And My Brilliant Response)

Okay, so now we're at the part where the gateway—finally—decides to ask me a big question. After the flames and the drama, this booming voice asks me, "What will you become without what you have left behind?"

I'll admit, the whole thing had this eerie vibe to it. I mean, I was expecting something deep, like it was trying to hit me with some cosmic wisdom.

But instead of giving in to the whole "I have no idea who I am anymore" thing (which, let's face it, I've had that moment before), I just stood there for a second, took a deep breath, and said, "Something better."

And there was this pause—like the gateway was caught off guard or something. It's like it was expecting me to break down into some long monologue about what I was losing and how I couldn't let go, but nope.

I wasn't having it.

"Something better," I said.

No drama. No emotional outburst.

I think it might've been disappointed, honestly. Like, it was waiting for me to have this big, tearful moment.

Instead, I gave it one line and probably blew its mind. If that thing had a face, I bet it would've looked confused.

Anecdote #4: Mysterious Figure—The Next Big Drama?

So, of course, after I've stepped through the gateway, feeling like I've just aced the trial and now the universe owes me a snack or something, I notice someone watching me from the shadows.

Because why wouldn't someone be lurking around when I'm feeling all victorious?

I'm used to being watched by now, so I don't even flinch. I mean, this is clearly a setup for more drama, right?

There's always some shadowy figure waiting for their moment to show up and give me a cryptic warning or start a whole new conflict. I'm so used to it that I barely raise an eyebrow.

Instead, I just think, Great. Another weirdo.

But of course, instead of freaking out like any sane person would, I just brush it off. "Eh, whatever, I've got more important things to do than worry about someone who can't even show themselves properly," I mutter under my breath.

Because honestly, I've dealt with enough weirdness today to last me a lifetime. A shadowy figure?

Pfft, no biggie.

It's like the universe has decided I need a daily dose of drama to keep me on my toes.

If the figure does want to chat, it'll have to get in line behind all the other problems I've got going on.

Anecdote #5: Agnos and My "Deep" Moments

So after all of this, Agnos tries to pull me into one of those "deep philosophical conversations" he's always so fond of.

I mean, if you've ever been around Agnos, you know what I mean. It's like he's got this secret rulebook on how to be emotionally profound at all times.

He looks at me all serious and goes, "Now, Carl, you must embrace your freedom. Cast aside your burdens."

And I'm just standing there, thinking, Yeah, sure, whatever you say, Agnos.

I mean, don't get me wrong, I'm all for the idea of freedom, but it's kind of hard to take the whole "cast aside your burdens" thing seriously when you've literally just stepped through a giant flaming gate and you're now waiting for someone to jump out of the shadows.

"Can we skip the part where I'm supposed to feel something?" I ask him, because honestly, after everything I've gone through today, I'm not exactly in the mood to suddenly become this enlightened sage.

"I've been feeling stuff all day, and I'm kind of done with it."

I can see Agnos giving me this look, like he's both impressed and horrified at the same time. But, you know, that's Carl.

Practicality is my thing. Wisdom? That can wait until after lunch.

Anecdote #6: Mastery of Letting Go (With Sass)

You know, I did manage to master the art of letting go—Carl style.

I didn't fall for the big dramatic speeches or get lost in some emotional downward spiral. Instead, I walked up to that pedestal, threw the fragment on there like it was nothing, and just kept moving.

No breakdown. No sobbing. Just one solid, "Something better," and bam, done.

The gateway wanted me to have a big moment, but I wasn't going to give it that satisfaction.

Nope, not today, buddy.

Instead, I let it know I'm on my own journey, and it's all about moving forward. No baggage. No drama. Just me being better than I was yesterday. And honestly? That's kind of a vibe.

I don't know what comes next—probably something weird and intense, knowing my luck—but whatever it is, I'll face it head-on. With a side of sarcasm, of course.