Chapter 25

Something That Doesn’t Exist

Ravina’s Travel Journal — Day 25

Called home.

Mum is fine, Daphne is also fine.
Daphne is apparently fine at my house, late, wearing Mum’s cardigan.

I am observing, no conclusions yet.

Toni met Grandma. I accidentally called Mum “Grandma.”
This will be used against me forever, but Toni seemed to recognize that Mum and I are related somehow.

Not words, More like:

BIG.
DARK.
THERE?.

Mum objected to the first one.

Professor Elm saw Toni’s file. He does not know what she is.
Not “unsure.”
Not “probably this.”
He has no match. Regional. National. Archived. Nothing.

He looked like someone had personally insulted science.
He wants notes. Of course he wants notes.

Apparently “falls over often” is legitimate research.
I hate that everyone agrees on this.
Toni is healthy. That remains the important part.

Gotta Plan before trying Union Cave again:
Repels.
Proper cave supplies.
Current Ranger information.
Teach Nikola Flash so we have steady light.
Sleep.
Then cave.

Probably.

Also: Daphne is definitely wearing Mum’s cardigan.

- - - - -

Chapter 25.1

Toni's sleeping suggested sensible timing.

Important conversations were easier when the newborn mystery Pokémon wasn't actively attempting to gnaw through bed straps, scale Nikola's fleece barrier, seize Cinder's fiery ears, or investigate any reflective surface with reckless abandon.

Unfortunately, "asleep" proved insufficiently transferable.

The little basket Berry had provided remained conspicuously untouched while Toni remained wedged against Ravina's chest, one stubby hand tangled in the front of her shirt with grasping determination, her patterned shell emanating gentle warmth against Ravina's stomach.

Cinder arranged himself lengthwise beside her on the bed, his sleek, dark teal body a steady heat presence.

Nikola had claimed the floor near Ravina's knees, her fleece crackling softly with contained energy.

Owlbert occupied the room's designated perch, his single eye staring unblinking at them all with procedural impartiality.

Victor hovered near the ceiling, upside down for reasons that would likely remain known only to Victor for the remainder of recorded time.

Ravina stared at the video phone, then down at the small creature sleeping against her, then back at the communication device with mounting resignation.

"I should call."

Victor rotated slowly in the air with deliberate disinterest.

"You have uttered that exact phrase four separate occasions."

"I know."

"And yet, motionlessness prevails."

"I know."

Cinder lifted his head, orange eyes blinking sleep away as he registered the familiar pattern of Ravina's hesitation.

Ravina sighed.

"Fine."

She shifted Toni with practiced gentleness into one arm, supporting the tiny spine while carefully disengaging small fingers from her shirt before crossing the room.

The private communication booth was already reserved for her.

Because of course Berry had anticipated her needs and arranged it before she had even fully decided.

Berry operated with such proactive efficiency.

The booth on wheels was a careful blend of privacy and surveillance, too small to be comfortable but just large enough to make conversation feel more serious than Ravina preferred.

With a reluctant sigh, she settled into the padded chair, adjusting Toni in her arms until the tiny weight shifted in her sleep. One hand still poised against the small basket empty beside her—a hopeful but ultimately futile placement.

She dialed, fingers moving with practiced reluctance against the communication interface.

The screen lit to life with the designated connection pulse. New Bark. Home.

Rings. One. Two. Three—then abrupt connection as if it had been awaiting acceptance rather than permission.

Nostus appeared, filling the small screen with an authority that stretched beyond technological limitations.

"There you are."

Ravina smiled, the expression happening without permission or particularly conscious thought.

"Hi, Mum."

Nostus looked unchanged from their last parting at Violet City station—notably tall, deliberately composed, skin in shades Ravina sometimes envied in others. Her expression remained the perfect calibrated balance between I am genuinely pleased to see you and I am about to demand a detailed accounting of your nutritional state for the past forty-eight hours.

Then a new voice joined theirs, arriving from somewhere off-screen.

“Is that Ravina?”

Ravina blinked as Daphne leaned into view from the side, interrupting Nostus’s frame with casual intimacy.

She cradled a ceramic mug between her fingers, the knuckles showing the paleness of someone settled for hours. The cardigan she wore was oversized, the fabric swallowing her smaller frame in a way that suggested a borrowed garment rather than her own.

Ravina stared as Daphne’s smile warmed the screen. Soft, genuine, unguarded.

“Hi.”

Ravina’s gaze flickered between them, the easy closeness that needed no words, the deliberate neutrality in her mother’s expression that was always more revealing than any reaction.

“…You’re there late.”

Daphne’s eyes slid toward the window as if noticing the darkness outside for the first time. “Am I?”

Ravina’s eyebrows rose as Nostus remained impassive, giving away nothing.

Interesting. Very interesting.

Leaning slightly forward, Ravina reduced the digital distance between them, the screen seeming to shrink with her focused attention.

“Daphne.”

“Yes?”

“Are you wearing my mother’s cardigan?”

Daphne glanced downward at herself, her gaze tracing the familiar patterns of fabric that had surrounded Nostus for years. A pause stretched just long enough to be telling.

“…Possibly.”

Ravina’s smile unfurled slowly across her face as Nostus released a breath that sounded like surrender.

“Ravina.”

“I’m merely observing.”

“You are remarkably poor at merely observing.”

“That is slander.”

Daphne lifted the ceramic mug to her lips, the scent of old paper and chamomile briefly dominating the screen's audio sensors as she swallowed. The act itself was unremarkable until Nostus's hand, visible at the screen edge, extended from nowhere with precise economy of motion, holding a small cookie between thumb and forefinger.

Daphne took it.

Without looking.

Without breaking eye contact with Ravina.

The movement possessed the practiced fluidity of long acquaintance, a silent choreography of shared space. Two bodies that had learned the geography of each other's reach in moments so repetitive they no longer required conscious thought.

Ravina's smile stretched predatorily as the realization settled.

This. This was new. Not the cookie. The easy transfer without ceremony. The casual intimacy that spoke of hours repeated until efficiency became instinct.

Daphne noticed the shift in Ravina's expression, eyes widening just slightly.

"Oh, don't."

A perfect imitation of maternal warning that failed entirely.

"I didn't say anything." The denial landed with intentional provocation as Ravina leaned closer to the screen.

"You're making a face." Daphne's smile remained soft despite the protest, though her grip on the mug tightened fractionally.

Ravina pressed her free hand to her chest in an exaggerated display of offended innocence. "My face is neutral."

"That is definitely a face with opinions about it," Daphne countered, though her expression held more amusement than offense.

Nostus sighed, a sound that carried resignation familiar to every eighteen-year-old who had ever discovered their parent living an actual human life. Ravina filed the information away, a delightful morsel of blackmail material for later consumption.

Nostus folded her arms across her chest, a movement that changed her entire posture from relaxed to formidable. The question carried the predictable maternal weight, bypassing pleasantries for practicalities.

“Have you eaten?”

Ravina expelled air in a dramatic fashion, the sound exactly half-defiance and half-exhaustion.

“Answer.”

“Fine. Yes.”

“When?” The question was stripped of any unnecessary syllables, like a blade honed to a single killing edge.

“Recently.”

Nostus’s expression flattened with the kind of perfected patience one develops when confronting exceptionally stubborn targets. “That is not a time.”

Ravina slumped against the booth wall, the gesture sending a slight vibration against the video screen. “Before I saw Ito.”

Something in Nostus’s gaze sharpened, interest overriding her previous nutritional interrogation. “You found Ito?”

“Yep.”

“How is she?”

Ravina snorted, the sound harsh in the small space. “Suspiciously well.”

A flicker of recognition crossed Nostus’s face. “That sounds like Ito.”

“She has better gear than me.” The words landed with the heavy impact of genuine injustice.

Nostus raised one eyebrow. “Does she now?”

“She has money.” Ravina leaned closer to the camera as if sharing state secrets rather than familial gossip.

Nostus paused, processing the information. “…How?”

“Excellent question.” Ravina’s voice dropped with shared conspiracy. “She says she wins bets.”

“With who?” Nostus’s question came swiftly, all business.

“‘Other Trainers.’ Apparently.” The air quotes carried precisely as much skepticism as they intended.

Daphne lowered her mug, the movement drawing Nostus’s attention for the first time since the conversation pivoted to Ito.

Nostus closed her eyes. A muscle along her jaw twitched.

“Concerning...”

- - - - -

Chapter 25.2

Toni stirred, a subtle adjustment of her small body that managed to place the top of her spotted shell precisely in the video frame.

Three people held breath, a silence so complete the audio sensor might have registered it as equipment malfunction.

Daphne leaned into the camera space, her gaze focusing with sudden, sharp intensity that compressed inches of digital distance into inches of personal space.

"...is that her?"

Ravina looked down at the creature nestled against her chest. Toni's eyes remained closed, tiny triangles of darkness shielded by thin white eyelids that barely showed.

"Yeah."

Something shifted in Nostus's expression, not the calculated adjustments she usually made when analyzing problems, but an immediate softening, as if her entire facial architecture had been redesignated from function to feeling.

"Bring her closer."

Ravina complied, the movement requiring practiced gentleness as Toni wriggled again, making herself more comfortable with faint, sleepy sounds.

One miniature hand emerged from the shell's confines, yellow-fingered, perfect, and somehow impossibly small, and Daphne made a sound.

Not speech. Not gasp. Something caught between those points. A suppressed exhale that contained entire non-sentences of maternal reaction.

Ravina's mouth twitched as she detected the early stages of familial expression.

"Oh, no."

Daphne's gaze lifted from the screen, settling on Ravina with suspicion. "What?"

"The baby face."

"I am not."

Nostus's head tilted by degrees—a surgical movement as she assessed the phenomenon from a fresh angle. "You are."

Daphne looked as if Ravina had just pulled out tax records rather than calling out sentimental tells.

The sound that left Ravina's throat was exactly the way affection usually sounded when squeezed through years of accumulated sibling rivalry, and then Toni stirred again, her eyes opening with the deliberation of someone coming awake in new circumstances.

The impressions arrived immediately, telepathic touches that contained no words but definite concepts:

BIG.

Then:

DARK.

Then a pause as Toni's head turned from the screen toward Ravina, then back toward the feature that had prompted the question.

THERE?

Ravina's expression shifted with processing speed as understanding arrived.

"Oh."

Nostus detected the change with her usual efficiency. "What?"

Ravina looked at Toni, whose eyes remained fixed on the screen with unblinking determination.

"She thinks you're like me."

Nostus blinked. The movement was small but carried weight. "Like you?"

"Sort of." Ravina searched through vocabulary inadequacy, trying to translate Toni's metaphysical recognition into human equivalents. "She sees something familiar."

Daphne's smile bloomed, soft and knowing, while whatever hardness remained in Nostus's expression dissolved further into something unrecognizable and almost tender.

Toni's hand reached toward the screen.

THERE?

Ravina laughed quietly, the sound barely disturbing the intimate space of the booth.

"No, love. Grandma's not here."

Nostus's eyebrows climbed their face with geometric precision as each hairline movement calculated significance.

"Grandma?"

Both women froze, Ravina caught between screen and Toni, Daphne caught mid-sip, locked in immediate aftermath of the casual revelation.

Then Nostus stared at Ravina, her expression taking on that particular tilt she reserved for information gathering about unforeseen variables.

"...What?"

Nostus's smile arrived slowly, the transformation happening incrementally until reaching final formation as something practiced and deliberately unsettling.

"Nothing."

"Oh, shut up."

"I said nothing."

"You did it with your face."

"Apparently that runs in the family."

The control Daphne had been maintaining finally failed. Laughter burst from her with such intensity that she had to set her mug down on the desk beside her with deliberate care before dropping her face into her other hand and groaning with something between embarrassment and sheer joy.

- - - - -

Chapter 25.3

Nostus waited until Toni had settled again, the tiny creature shifting with drowsy satisfaction against Ravina's chest before the interrogation began, stripped to essentials as only her mother could deliver.

“Sleeping?”

“Mostly.” Ravina adjusted her position, cradling the Togepi with an unconscious shift of weight.

“Eating?”

“Yes.” One word, delivered with the resignation of someone anticipating an inventory.

“Hydration?”

“Yes.” Toni stirred slightly at the sound of their voices, murmuring before burying her face against the warmth of Ravina's shirt.

“Any vomiting?”

“No.”

“Breathing problems?”

“Mum!” Ravina lifted her free hand in surrender, fingers spread palm-outward. “The Center nurse checked her.”

The onslaught of questions stopped as abruptly as it began.

“Oh? And?” The question hung with precise edges.

“Healthy.” Ravina’s smile curled into something mischievous. “Medically boring.”

Nostus released a breath, the sound of tension flowing out as her spine softened into the chair behind her.

“Good.”

Daphne’s laughter was audible even before her face reappeared in frame, cardigan creased where she had folded against herself.

“Apparently that is the highest possible compliment.”

The booth chair groaned as Ravina leaned back, the plastic complaining against her weight.

"I also turned around at Union Cave."

Nostus's gaze sharpened. Not with anger, but with that incisive, analytical cut that made Ravina's shoulders straighten instinctively.

Old habits.

"I got to the entrance." Her thumb stroked Toni's shell, tracing the familiar patterns. "She hated it."

"Dark?"

The question arrived clean, stripped of everything but utility.

"Big. Loud. Echoing." Ravina's fingers stopped moving as she glanced down at the sleeping Togepi. The indentation her own voice made in the tiny shell remained for a moment after she spoke. "She hatched yesterday."

Nostus's nod was minimal, a single downward movement devoid of ceremony. "Fair enough."

No speech. No congratulations for turning back from a challenge. Just that calculated acceptance that told Ravina her decision made sense in her mother's careful inventory of the world.

Ravina blinked, processing the anticlimax.

"...Yeah."

"What?"

"Nothing." Ravina's shoulders dropped with measured release. "You expected me to tell you that was responsible?"

The corner of Nostus's mouth tipped upward in something too small to be called a smile. "Maybe."

"It was."

Nostus reached for something off-screen, the ceramic clink of her mug reaching Ravina's audio sensors. "That does not require ceremony."

The simplicity undid whatever tension Ravina hadn't realized she was carrying. A genuine smile broke across her face as Nostus's pragmatic approval landed exactly where it mattered most.

Daphne shifted, her gaze measuring the distance between them across the screen's parameters. "You'll go back?"

"Yep."

"Later?" Daphne followed up, reading what remained unspoken between mother and daughter.

"After I prepare properly."

Nostus responded with another curt nod. "Good."

A flash of pride brightened Ravina's expression.

"Need some Repels."

Nostus's eyebrow climbed toward her hairline with deliberate precision. "Useful."

"And I can try teaching Nikola Flash, too."

Daphne leaned forward, genuine interest glinting in her eyes as Nostus's expression shifted to serious assessment.

"Can she learn it?" Daphne asked before Nostus could.

"The Technical Manual lists Mareep as compatible," Ravina confirmed, feeling the warmth of approval settle into her shoulders.

A pleased smile stretched Ravina's lips.

"Sounds like you have a plan then," Nostus observed with dry approval.

Ravina's voice dropped conspiratorially. "Well, part of a plan, yeah..."

- - - - -

Chapter 25.4

Movement beyond the frame, the familiar rustle of paper accompanying an entry that disrupted the domestic calm.

Then Professor Elm filled the screen, seizing the visual territory with the disheveled energy of a scholar consumed by academic crisis.

His hair defied gravitational convention even by Elm standards. Papers, stacked imprecisely, threatened escape from beneath his arm. The tablet he clasped might as well have been a distress beacon in its gleaming urgency.

The expression remained beyond description, the particular wildness unique to someone whose trusted database had decided to develop an existential crisis.

"Ravina."

Ravina's spine straightened automatically, the shift as involuntary as breathing.

"Hi, Professor."

Elm brandished the tablet like newly discovered forbidden scripture.

"What did you hatch?"

Ravina glanced down at the tiny creature stirring against her chest.

"I was hoping you could tell me."

Silence took over the communication channel, thick and charged.

Daphne's mug found her hands again with slow, deliberate timing—a desperate attempt to anchor normalcy in the rapidly fracturing conversation.

Nostus shifted precisely one step sideways, as if clearing an obstruction between disaster and potential solution.

Elm oscillated between the video screen, then the tablet, then back again, the pattern repeating with mechanical desperation.

"I can't."

Ravina processed the impossible combination of syllables. "…That's not ideal."

"No."

Elm's thumb engaged in frantic swiping motions across the tablet, a series of vertical slashes that suggested either rage or desperation.

"Your provisional entry synced."

"I figured."

"The medical update synced too."

"Already?"

"Yes."

Elm's gaze returned to the screen, his eyes shifting between Toni and his tablet with academic desperation.

"No registered match."

Ravina nodded, the movement barely perceptible against the booth wall. "Pokédex said that."

"No regional match."

"Okay." The word landed without inflection, the syllables falling into the growing silence between them.

"No national match."

Ravina stopped nodding. The movement ceased mid-gesture as the implications accumulated. Toni shifted against her, the tiny creature sensing something of the tension through the warm connection of skin to shell.

"...Oh."

Elm continued, his voice gaining momentum as he advanced through impossibilities like a researcher discovering a new species of catastrophe.

"No archived juvenile match."

Daphne lowered her mug again, her movements becoming increasingly deliberate as if measured silence might somehow restore order to the universe.

"No breeding record."

Nostus's expression sharpened with the precision of someone recognizing an unsolvable equation mid-calculation.

"No known species profile."

Ravina stared at the screen, at the professor whose wild hair seemed to be defying gravity more intensely with each failed database query.

"So."

Elm looked at her directly, his gaze abandoning the tablet in favor of the human equation before him.

"So."

Silence claimed the communication channel, stretching between them until it became a physical presence in the small booth, thick with implications.

Victor's voice floated faintly from outside the booth walls, the smoky resonance carrying through the door with its usual theatrical timing.

"Have we reached the dramatic portion?"

Ravina ignored him, her entire being focused on the screen where her mother's expression had become something new—calculating, assessing, measuring distances that had suddenly expanded beyond the parameters of motherly concern.

Elm's thumb swiped with precise frustration across the tablet, magnifying the image until the pixelation became visible.

The bad one, taken in a moment of chaotic enthusiasm, half of Cinder's nose intruding from the edge like an uninvited guest. Ravina winced, the expression arriving instinctively.

“Can we use a better picture?”

“No.”

“Why?”

“It’s timestamped.”

Ravina’s shoulders slumped with theatrical defeat. “That feels unnecessarily cruel.”

Elm ignored her, his focus locked on the screen with academic disregard for hurt feelings.

“Patterned shell.”

“Yep.” The response came out on automatic pilot as Toni shifted against her.

“External shell appears biologically integrated.”

“Apparently.” Ravina watched as Elm’s eyes traced the shell's edges with the focus of a predator examining prey.

“Possible telepathic communication.”

“Concepts.” One word, delivered with practiced brevity.

“Repeatable?”

“Yes.” Ravina glanced down at the small creature in her arms as Toni murmured in her sleep.

Elm looked up from his tablet, his gaze shifting between the screen and the sleeping Togepi with renewed intensity.

“Repeat stimulus response consistent.”

Ravina nodded, her fingers tracing the edge of Toni's shell with unconscious protectiveness.

“Toni said cold twice.”

Elm's eyes sharpened, the transformation happening incrementally as his researcher instincts engaged.

“Exactly?”

“Same feeling.” Ravina paused, searching for words adequate to describe the telepathic impressions. “Like... when you step into shadow too quickly.”

Elm's expression transformed into something between clinical fascination and scientific triumph. A slow smile spread across his face, the kind reserved for moments when the universe revealed a new layer of complexity.

“Interesting.”

Ravina met Daphne's gaze across the screen, a silent acknowledgment passing between them.

"There he goes."

Daphne's lips curved, the smile reaching her eyes. "He's been pacing for twenty minutes."

Elm's expression shifted into something resembling scholarly offense. "I was thinking."

"You wore a path in the rug."

"I was thinking while moving."

Nostus shifted her attention to Ravina, a single eyebrow raised with practiced precision. "He has been doing this since the file arrived."

Elm pointed with sharp emphasis toward Toni's image on screen. "She shouldn't be unknown."

Ravina glanced down at the small creature in her arms as Toni's eyes fluttered open, still heavy with sleep.

"Bit rude."

"I don't mean…"

"I know." The response came with the weariness of someone accustomed to translating academic enthusiasm into social acceptability.

Elm's hand made erratic contact with his already disheveled hair, pushing it further from conformity. "There are gaps in the Pokédex."

"Obviously."

"Yes, but this is not the same as discovering an undocumented local variation." He turned back to the screen with renewed intensity, his gaze oscillating between Toni's image and Ravina's face. "This is a healthy newborn from an Egg obtained in Johto, with no registered species match."

Ravina nodded slowly, her thumb stroking Toni's shell in unconscious rhythm. "That sounds bad when you say it like that."

"It's extraordinary," Daphne corrected him gently, her voice soft but firm.

"She's also a baby."

Some of the academic intensity dissolved from Elm's features as his focus returned to the sleeping form. "Yes."

Daphne's smile returned, warm and reassuring. "Healthy?"

"According to the doc."

"Then start there."

Elm released a breath that seemed to carry away some of his urgency. "Yes."

Elm's gaze sharpened, fixing on Ravina with a surgeon's focus that suggested her compliance was not optional.

“Do not change anything.”

Ravina blinked. “With what?”

“Her care routine.”

“Oh.”

“Keep notes.”

Ravina groaned, the sound dragged from somewhere deep and weary as Elm pointed toward her, a gesture carrying the authority of someone who had never been deflected by teenage protest.

“You already started.”

“Against my will.”

Elm's expression softened fractionally, a researcher's appreciation overriding personal irritation. “You wrote useful observations.”

“I wrote ‘falls over often.’”

A precise nod, the movement carrying unexpected weight. “That is useful.”

Ravina stared, processing the academic validation of what she considered complaint material. “Everyone keeps saying that.”

“Because it is.”

From the corner of the screen, Daphne's smile bloomed, warm and familiar. Ravina sighed, the sound carrying capitulation she didn't entirely feel.

“Fine.”

Emboldened by success, Elm pressed forward, his enthusiasm returning like tide flooding in.

“Food.”

“Okay.”

“Sleep.”

“Okay.”

“Communication.”

“Okay.”

“Response to people and Pokémon.”

“Okay.”

“Any unusual abilities.”

Ravina looked down at Toni, whose small mouth opened in a perfect oval as she yawned, the movement so profound it seemed to involve her entire being.

“Currently she can climb Nikola.”

Elm actually wrote that down, his thumb moving across the tablet with swift, decisive strokes.

Ravina stared, disbelief warring with amusement. “Professor.”

“Behavioral preference.”

“She likes fluffy things.”

Elm's expression transformed into something approaching pure delight, the kind of joy reserved for researchers witnessing the universe offering up small, perfect data points.

Ravina groaned, the sound muffled by Toni's small body pressed against her chest as the Togepi stirred slightly, sensing her distress.

- - - - -

Chapter 25.5

Toni's patience with scholarly discourse expired in the precise moment Elm finished his frantic note-taking.

The evidence presented itself as a determined grab for the screen's edge, her small hand smacking against the plastic with the satisfying rhythm of a child discovering boundaries.

Ravina intercepted the reach with practiced reflex, repositioning the rebellious appendage with gentle but firm resolution.

"No."

Toni attempted again, her persistence undiminished by parental intervention.

"No."

WANT.

"No."

From the screen, Elm observed the exchange with the detached interest of a researcher witnessing successful stimulus-response testing.

"Was that one?"

Ravina's gaze lifted from the creature now attempting to chew on her shirt collar. "One what?"

"A concept."

"Oh."

Ravina nodded, the movement transmitting through Toni's small body.

"Want."

Elm's thumb moved across his tablet with decisive precision, capturing the data point with clinical satisfaction.

Ravina stared at the screen, a dawning horror of her own making.

"You're going to make me regret telling you anything."

"Yes."

Daphne's laughter spilled from the speakers, warm and unforgiving.

The questioning continued from the screen, Nostus's gaze calculating but softer than usual as she examined the small creature now attempting to climb Ravina's arm.

“What does she call you?”

Ravina paused, the movement of her hand against Toni's shell ceasing as she considered how to translate Toni's wordless communication into human understanding.

“Not words.”

“I know.” The response arrived with the precision of someone who had already suspected the answer.

Ravina looked down at the Togepi, who immediately returned the gaze with unblinking intensity.

The impressions arrived immediately, telepathic touches that had become familiar in the short time since Toni's emergence into the world.

PINK. WHITE. WARM. SAFE. THERE.

Ravina's expression shifted with processing speed as she selected the most significant concept.

“Mostly…”

She swallowed, the movement audible in the small booth's enclosed space.

“Safe.”

The communication channel fell silent, thick with the weight of that single word.

Daphne's expression softened across the screen, her warmth translating even through digital compression.

Nostus's smile arrived slowly, the transformation happening incrementally until reaching final formation as something genuine and unguarded.

Even Elm stopped writing, his thumb frozen mid-swipe across the tablet as he absorbed the emotional data point.

Ravina looked down at Toni, who had shifted her attention to the human face hovering above her.

Toni reached up with determined precision, her small hand making contact with Ravina's chin.

Ravina pressed a kiss to the top of Toni's head, her lips brushing against the yellow points.

“Yeah.”

The silence held for another moment, charged with unspoken understanding before the world outside the booth demanded attention again.

Elm cleared his throat, the sound abrupt in the small booth as if he'd been holding it for too long.

“Keep doing that.”

Ravina stared at the screen, her head tilted with deliberate skepticism.

“That is the first useful research instruction you’ve given me.”

“I said keep notes.”

“That was less useful.”

“It was not.”

The conversation veered toward the familiar territory of Ravina's maternal oversight, Nostus stepping in with practiced timing before Elm's academic defensiveness could fully engage.

“Ravina.”

“Mm?”

“When are you moving again?”

“Not tonight.”

“Good.”

“Tomorrow maybe.”

“Depends on the cave?”

“And shopping.”

Ravina mentally tallied the items, fingers tapping unconsciously against Toni's shell.

“Repels. Cave supplies. Teach Nikola Flash. Probably ask the Rangers about current conditions.”

Nostus nodded, her expression carrying the approval that came less from the specific list than from the fact that there was a list at all.

“And food.”

“Yes, Mum.”

“And sleep.”

“Yes, Mum.”

“And call again before Azalea.”

“I was already going to.”

Nostus gave her a look that spanned the digital distance between them, an expression containing Ravina's recently forgotten communication.

Ravina sighed, the sound containing exactly the right amount of teenage martyrdom.

“I was.”

From somewhere just outside the screen's perfect edge, Daphne leaned in, the shift bringing her closer to Nostus in a way that suggested intimate space rather than shared territory.

"You can call me too," she offered, voice pitched with gentle conspiracy, "if your mother is being unbearable."

Nostus's gaze slid sideways, the minimal movement carrying the weight of years accumulated in a single glance. An eyebrow lifted with calculated precision.

Daphne's smile remained, soft and unwavering, the kind of expression that made innocence look deliberate.

Ravina's eyes flicked between them, cataloging the small details: the way Daphne's shoulder angled toward Nostus without conscious thought, the way Nostus did not move away, the way their shared space had become something new when Ravina wasn't looking.

There it was again.

That ease.

Ravina's mouth curved into a smile that felt more predatory than amused.

Daphne detected the shift immediately, her own smile tightening at the edges.

"Stop."

"I said nothing."

"You're making the face again."

Nostus reached for her mug, the ceramic cool against her palm. "She gets it from me."

Ravina pointed at the screen, the gesture quick and triumphant. "Exactly."

Daphne's laughter broke the tension, warm and unapologetic.

- - - - -

Chapter 25.6

The call ended with a soft chime, the screen darkening abruptly as the connection dissolved.

Ravina remained in the booth for a moment longer, the small space suddenly too quiet with the absence of her mother's voice. Toni had fallen asleep again somewhere between Elm's frantic note-taking and Daphne's laughter.

Of course.

Apparently being unknown to science was exhausting work.

Ravina looked down at the creature tucked against her chest, the tiny body rising and falling with breaths too small to be heard. The spotted shell felt impossibly fragile beneath her fingertips.

"Something that doesn't exist."

The words emerged as barely more than a whisper, lost in the booth's recycled air.

Toni slept on, oblivious to her scientific anomaly.

Ravina's smile curved upward, the expression feeling both familiar and strange in the aftermath of revelations.

"Bit dramatic."

The booth door clicked open with mechanical precision as she stood, Toni shifting slightly in her arms at the movement. Outside, Victor waited in his usual state of suspended animation, his gaseous body coalescing slightly as she approached.

Cinder sat beside him, dark teal body a steady presence on the carpeted floor, orange eyes lifting to meet hers with immediate recognition. Nikola lay nearby, her fleece crackling softly with contained energy as she observed their return with practical assessment.

From his designated perch, Owlbert watched them all with procedural impartiality, his single eye tracking Ravina's movements with that unnerving stillness that characterized his species.

Victor drifted closer, the smoky resonance of his voice carrying theatrical weight even in the small space.

"Well?"

Ravina adjusted Toni against her chest, the tiny creature murmuring in her sleep at the adjustment.

"Elm has no idea what she is."

Victor's smile spread through his gaseous form, a distortion of molecules that somehow conveyed unmistakable delight.

"How delightful."

"That is not the word he used."

"Scientists lack poetry."

The sound of shuffling wool pulled Ravina's attention to the floor. Nikola rose with deliberate economy, her fleece crackling with contained energy as she arranged herself into a comfortable guard position near Ravina's feet.

Cinder's sleek body moved with fluid grace, the dark teal form gliding across the carpet until his warm flank pressed against Ravina's leg. His orange eyes lifted to hers, questioning without words as his muzzle nudged her hand with silent encouragement.

Ravina turned toward the window, her gaze traveling past the inn's modest grounds to the road that snaked away from civilization. Beyond that, somewhere in the growing shadows of evening, Union Cave waited with its echoing darkness.

Tomorrow meant Repels and cave supplies, Flash lessons for Nikola, and eventually, the challenge of the cave itself.

But not yet.

Tonight, Toni slept against her chest, the tiny creature's shell warming Ravina's skin with each shallow breath. Healthy, Elm had confirmed, even if completely unknown to science.

Mum was in New Bark, probably solving some bureaucratic nightmare that had been haunting Professor Elm for years. Daphne was there too, apparently having graduated from casual visits to casual cardigan-borrowing.

The professor himself was likely still pacing, his wild hair defying gravity as he wrestled with the impossibility that had hatched from Ravina's Egg.

And somewhere in this very inn, Ito was almost certainly plotting her next improbable adventure, her impossible creature sleeping on a bed of stone in the lounge above.

Ravina sighed, the sound carrying the weight of it all into the quiet room.

Normal enough.