Chapter 10

The Road to Violet

Travel Journal — Day 12

Owlbert has now been travelling with us for a full day.

Things I have learned:
He knows exactly when the sun is going down.
He knows exactly when it is supposed to come back up.
He does not understand why I would ever want to sleep through either event.
He likes high branches, quiet campsites, and watching absolutely everything.
He also apparently considers “being captured by a trainer” and “obeying that trainer” to be two completely separate concepts.

Cinder thinks this is hilarious.
I do not.

- - - - -

Chapter 10.1

The previous day had stretched longer than Ravina anticipated, not because of terrain difficulty, but because their team had grown to three.

Cinder had already settled into their travel rhythm, stopping when she stopped, usually responding when she called him away from trouble. Usually.

Owlbert, however, operated on entirely different principles.

He spent most of the day navigating through the trees bordering their path, occasionally vanishing completely for minutes before materializing on a branch ahead. The first few disappearances sent Ravina's heart racing.

"Owlbert!"

A distant hoot answered. "Stay where I can see you!"

Silence... followed by another hoot from an entirely different direction.

Ravina looked down at Cinder. "He's doing this deliberately."

Cinder chirped. "Do not encourage him."

By afternoon, she'd mostly stopped assuming each disappearance meant abandonment. He always returned, sometimes bringing curious offerings: a twig, a berry, once, mysteriously, a button whose origin remained unsolved.

Camping with Owlbert proved stranger still. While Cinder settled near Ravina after dinner, Owlbert didn't sleep. He perched above them, maintaining vigil over trees, road, and trainer. Each time she stirred during the night, two red eyes watched from nearby.

Once she opened her eyes to find him sitting at the tent entrance, staring silently.

"...Do you ever blink?"

Hoot.

"That wasn't an answer."

He blinked slowly. Ravina pulled the blanket over her head.

"Much worse."

Then, precisely the next morning, Owlbert woke them again.

- - - - -

Chapter 10.2

Ravina's eyes snapped open to a hoot inches from her ear. Two enormous crimson eyes fixed on hers in the predawn gloom. For a full minute neither blinked, the air thick with mutual stubbornness. Then, with deliberate slowness, Ravina pulled the blanket over her head.

"No."

Hoot. Closer this time.

"No."

From the foot of her sleeping bag came Cinder's irritated grumble. Ravina gestured vaguely beneath the blanket. "See? Cinder agrees."

Hoot.

After five more minutes of intermittent hoots, she surrendered, sitting up to glare at the culprit. Owlbert balanced perfectly on the tent pole, looking entirely too satisfied with himself.

"You're lucky you're cute."

He blinked slowly, deliberately.

"Don't get smug."

He was already insufferably smug.

- - - - -

Chapter 10.3

Breakfast revealed a new puzzle piece: Owlbert thrived on routine, a fact Ravina was only beginning to uncover.

She noticed his intensity first, how his gaze fixed on her as she arranged their morning meal. His bowl sat precisely beside Cinder's, a deliberate placement she'd made without understanding its significance. Cinder dove into his breakfast with characteristic enthusiasm, while Owlbert remained perfectly still, his eyes locked on Ravina.

"What?" she asked, glancing between them.

Hoot.

"It's right there," she said, gesturing toward his bowl.

Nothing. Raven frowned. "Are you waiting for something?"

Hoot.

"I don't speak owl."

Cinder chirped supportively from his bowl.

"I don't speak Cyndaquil either, but at least you're expressive." Cinder puffed with pride while Owlbert's feathers ruffled in offense.

Finally, Ravina shifted his bowl an inch closer to her own. The subtle movement broke his stillness. Owlbert hopped forward and began eating with precise, methodical bites.

Ravina stared, dumbfounded. "...Really?"

No response. She made a mental note: precision mattered.

The first morning with Cinder had been about discovering his tastes and boundaries. With Owlbert, she realized she was learning an entirely different language, one of exactness and expectation. One Pokémon felt like a significant responsibility. Two was something else entirely, not simply double the challenge, but complexity in entirely new dimensions.

- - - - -

Chapter 10.4

They broke camp as morning light filtered through the canopy, dew still glistening on their tent. Owlbert remained outside his Poké Ball, perched on Ravina's shoulder for several minutes before hopping to low branches beside the road. Ravina hadn't wanted to confine him so soon after his capture, and he seemed content to shadow them from above.

Within half an hour, an unspoken rhythm emerged between her Pokémon. Cinder patrolled the ground, nose twitching at every interesting scent, while Owlbert kept watch from the trees, his crimson eyes missing nothing. A silent communication developed: when Cinder wandered too far ahead, Owlbert's sharp hoot called him back; when Owlbert became distracted by movement in the canopy, Cinder paused and looked up, waiting.

Ravina shook her head, a smile playing on her lips. "You two have known each other for barely twenty-four hours."

Cinder chirped in agreement.

Owlbert hooted his own response.

"That wasn't permission to form a union against me," she muttered, though neither seemed to care.

Route 30 narrowed as the woodland thickened, smooth dirt giving way to rocky patches that crunched underfoot. The morning air carried the scent of damp earth and pine, the temperature cool beneath the dense canopy. Wild Pokémon sightings increased—a Pidgey darting between branches, a Weedle inching up a tree trunk.

When a Caterpie began crossing the trail after breakfast, Owlbert's posture transformed instantly. His body lowered into hunting position, wings tensing, eyes locking onto his target. Cinder noticed the shift too, his flames dimming as he followed their gaze.

The Caterpie continued its slow journey across the path, blissfully unaware of the predator above.

"Owlbert."

No response, his focus absolute.

"Owlbert, no."

Without hesitation, the Hoothoot launched from his branch, talons extended toward the unsuspecting prey.

"Oh…!"

Ravina's fingers barely grazed empty air as Owlbert's wingbeat stirred dust from the path. The Caterpie's squeak cut short as talons closed around its body, then beat hard toward the canopy.

"Owlbert!"

Branches rustled above as she stopped beneath the tree, head tilted back. The Hoothoot stared down, his prize wriggling weakly in his grip. For a heartbeat, Ravina genuinely didn't know what to do.

"Owlbert, drop it."

His head tilted, considering her command. Then he turned away. A small movement.

A crunch.

Cinder pressed against her leg as she stood frozen beneath the tree. Another quiet crunch filtered through the leaves. Ravina slowly lowered her hand. "Oh."

She'd known, of course. Hoothoots ate insects. The Pokédex had told her that. Wild Pokémon hunted. Fish ate smaller fish. Birds ate bugs. Predators didn't stop being predators because somebody put them inside a Poké Ball. But knowing and witnessing were different languages entirely.

Ravina looked down at Cinder. And Cinder looked back.

"...I suppose I can't exactly tell him not to eat."

Cinder chirped.

"I can tell him not to steal our food." Another crunch and Ravina looked upward again. "And I can definitely tell him not to ignore me."

Owlbert glanced down, then swallowed before hooting. Ravina folded her arms. "That was not permission."

His feathers ruffled as he returned to his meal.

Ravina sighed. "Freshly caught."

Cinder chirped. "I know."

Another chirp. "Yes, Mum warned me."

Cinder looked unbearably pleased.

Ravina pointed at him. "You are not allowed to become smug because someone else is more difficult."

- - - - -

Chapter 10.5

Midmorning brought their first real training stop. Ravina spotted a broad clearing away from the path and dropped her pack beneath a sprawling oak.

Cinder's posture shifted instantly, recognizing the routine.

Owlbert did not. He landed on a low branch, head cocked, watching as Ravina stretched her arms. "Alright."

Cinder's back flickered with anticipation, tiny flames dancing.

"Nothing complicated."

He chirped softly. "Owlbert, you can watch."

Hoot. "Or participate if you want."

Owlbert remained perfectly still. Ravina decided that counted as consent to observe.

The drills began with familiar patterns. Wait. Move. Return. Circle left. Circle right. Ravina used the subtle hand signals Nostus had drilled into them during the previous week.

Cinder responded with newfound speed, much quicker than he had several days earlier.

Ravina smiled. "Again."

He moved. A whistle, return. Two fingers toward the ground, stop. One hand swept outward, circle. Cinder obeyed without hesitation while Owlbert's crimson eyes tracked every movement.

Ravina noticed. "Learning?"

Hoot.

"Good."

Then a rustle in the bushes drew all their attention. A wild Bellsprout emerged, its thin body swaying as it took in their presence.

Cinder stepped forward immediately, and Ravina hesitated. She had capture equipment now. But she didn't want another Pokémon. Not today.

"Training battle?"

Cinder's flames brightened with enthusiasm. The Bellsprout raised its leafy arms in challenge.

Ravina smiled. "Alright."

The Bellsprout struck first, a vine snapping through the air with surprising speed. "Move!"

Cinder leaped aside as the vine whipped against the ground where he'd stood. "Circle!"

He darted left, another vine narrowly missing him. The Bellsprout adapted quickly, its reach extending further than anything Cinder had previously faced.

"Get closer!"

Cinder charged forward, but another vine cracked across the clearing, forcing him back.

Ravina frowned, calculating. Tackle required closing the distance, while Smokescreen would dissipate too quickly in the breeze.

The Bellsprout attacked again, and Cinder ducked, then looked toward her with frustrated eyes. "I know."

Another vine whipped past as Ravina processed. Cinder possessed fire, but no formal attack yet. Not yet. But she had witnessed his back ignite countless times, the flames intensifying when frightened, excited, or determined.

"Cinder!"

His eyes locked on hers. "Don't chase it!"

As the Bellsprout swayed, Ravina pointed decisively. "Use the fire!"

Cinder hesitated, confusion flickering across his features, then the Bellsprout's vines snapped forward again. Cinder planted his feet, and the flames along his back erupted, hotter, brighter than ever before.

He opened his mouth, and a handful of glowing sparks shot forward. Ravina's eyes widened as the scattered embers struck the Bellsprout.

The plant recoiled instantly. All three froze as a tiny curl of smoke drifted from Cinder's mouth.

"...Did you know you could do that?"

Cinder slowly looked toward her, his expression answering the question. "No."

The Bellsprout apparently decided experimentation had gone far enough and fled into the bushes. Silence returned.

Ravina and Cinder stared at each other for a moment before Owlbert hooted once.

Ravina pointed at him. "Don't act like you expected that."

Hoot.

Cinder looked down at himself, then opened his mouth. Nothing. He tried again, and a tiny spark escaped. Ravina's grin slowly spread. "Oh."

Cinder looked toward her. "Oh, we're practicing that." His flames flared excitedly.

- - - - -

Chapter 10.6

An hour passed before they could reproduce it with any consistency.

Cinder's initial attempts resulted mostly in smoke, his frustration mounting with each failure. Once, a violent sneeze sent sparks showering into the dirt. Another attempt produced enough flame to send Owlbert scrambling from his perch with an indignant hoot.

Ravina finally realized the problem. "Stop forcing it."

Cinder's ears flattened at the criticism.

"I mean it." She crouched to his level. "When your back lights up, you don't think about it."

He watched her, orange-red eyes narrowing.

"So don't think about this either."

The advice was paradoxical, yet somehow it clicked. Cinder took a breath, and a small burst of glowing embers scattered across the target Ravina had drawn in the dirt.

Not powerful or elegant. But it was deliberate. Ravina threw both arms into the air. "Yes!"

Cinder bounded toward her and she caught him laughing. "You learned an actual fire attack!"

He chirped proudly against her shoulder as Owlbert descended to a nearby stump.

Hoot.

Ravina smiled at him. "Yes. He did."

Owlbert stared at Cinder as the Fire-mouse puffed himself up, chest swelling with pride.

Ravina could practically see the ego inflating. "Don't encourage him."

Hoot.

Ravina sighed. "Too late."