Chapter 4.9
The morning passed pleasantly after Joey continued south. Battle excitement faded into comfortable rhythm. Conversation, perhaps too generous a word, mostly Ravina spoke while Cinder absorbed her words, occasionally offering chirps that confirmed her unspoken guesses.
"...Did I look terrified?" Cinder's gaze met hers, expression answering before sound. "Figured." Another chirp. "Great support system you make."
The northern path meandered through dappled woodland, where sunlight fell in shifting patterns across the earthen track. Morning mist lingered in hollows between ancient trees, their broad leaves forming a living canopy above. Several trainers emerged from the bends ahead, each pausing to exchange greetings as they passed.
A young Bug Catcher, barely reaching Ravina's shoulder, eagerly displayed his morning capture, a plump Caterpie that wiggled on his gloved hand. Further along, an elderly woman with weathered features cautioned them about soft patches where rain had settled overnight. Another traveler, face creased with kindness, paused simply to admire Cinder, who trotted proudly at Ravina's side.
"He's an adorable little fellow," the woman commented, her voice warm with genuine delight.
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Chapter 4.10
Around midday, another cottage appeared at the bend in the path. Unlike the previous farmhouses, this one was unmistakable, every tree surrounding the property bore fruit in impossible colors. Red, blue, green, pink, black, yellow and white spheres hung among deep green leaves, creating a vibrant display that seemed almost artificial against the natural landscape.
Cinder halted, his head tilting as his nose twitched, sampling the unusual scents on the breeze. He wandered toward the nearest tree where a bright red Apricorn had already fallen into the grass. He sniffed it cautiously, then glanced back at Ravina with questioning eyes.
"...Go on," she encouraged softly.
He nudged the fruit experimentally with his nose. When nothing happened, he seemed satisfied and began rolling it gently across the ground, his small paws pushing it in precise movements.
A warm laugh drifted from the porch. "Looks like he approves."
Ravina looked up to see an elderly man leaning against the railing, watching them with obvious amusement in his weathered face. His hands were stained with soil, evidence of recent gardening.
"Good afternoon," he continued with a smile that crinkled the corners of his eyes.
"Afternoon." She gestured toward the trees. "...I've never seen fruit like these before."
"Most visitors haven't." He stepped down from the porch, brushing soil from his worn gardening gloves. "Let me guess, you're looking for Mr. Pokémon?"
Ravina smiled. "I am."
The old man's shoulders drooped with exaggerated flair. "They all are. I've become the landmark." He sighed dramatically, hand to his chest. "'Turn left at the Apricorn fellow,' 'If you've reached the Apricorn trees you've almost gone too far,' 'Mr. Pokémon's just past the Apricorn bloke.'"
Ravina laughed, her eyes dancing with amusement. "...Actually, I was hoping to meet the Apricorn fellow."
He blinked, his posture straightening immediately. "...You were?"
"Professor Elm mentioned someone nearby who still works with Apricorns."
"Well! That's different." His earlier performance vanished, replaced by genuine enthusiasm. "Come in, come in!"
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Chapter 4.11
The cottage interior smelled faintly of polished wood and drying herbs, with shelves lining every wall. But instead of books, hundreds of Apricorns filled the space, each carefully sorted by color into neat rows. Half-finished wooden Poké Balls rested beside delicate carving tools, some showing the intricate process of their creation.
Ravina slowly turned in place, her eyes tracing the organized chaos. "...You make Poké Balls?"
The old man nodded proudly. "The old way." He picked up a smooth blue Apricorn, his fingers tracing its surface. "Long before modern factories..." He gently turned it over in his hands, revealing a faint seam where it would be split. "...every Poké Ball began like this."
He smiled, a mixture of nostalgia and pride in his eyes. "Takes patience, modern ones are faster, but..." He shrugged, gesturing to the workshop around him. "...some traditions are worth keeping."
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Chapter 4.12
Time slipped away as twenty minutes blurred into fascination. The old craftsman's weathered hands moved between Apricorn varieties, his voice rich with generations of knowledge as he explained the subtle art of traditional Poké Ball making. Each colored sphere held secrets—red attracted fiery spirits, blue soothed water-types, green called to the forest dwellers. He demonstrated how precise drying techniques transformed fragile shells into durable vessels, why handcrafted Balls carried a resonance that factory-made ones could never replicate.
Cinder remained a steadfast presence beside the craftsman, his small body still and attentive. When the old man lifted a green Apricorn, Cinder's nose twitched, sampling its scent before offering a soft chirp of approval. At a red one, his ears perked with unmistakable interest.
"You've got yourself a remarkably attentive little partner," the craftsman observed, his fingers still cradling the green sphere.
Ravina watched Cinder's earnest focus. "He's just absorbing everything."
The old man chuckled, a warm, rumbling sound. "Nah." He knelt, his gnarled fingers gently scratching beneath Cinder's chin. "This one here understands." Cinder leaned into the touch, eyes closing with contentment. "He is a good boy, through and through."
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Chapter 4.13
Eventually, the craftsman disappeared into a back room, returning with a weathered leather satchel whose interior had been fitted with small loops, perfectly sized for Apricorns.
"My grandson carried this before he became a Ranger. Doesn't collect Apricorns anymore." He extended it toward Ravina. "You'll be traveling. You'll find these trees all across Johto. It'd be a shame to leave good Apricorns lying on the ground."
Ravina hesitated, fingers hovering over the worn leather. "I couldn't just—"
"You can, I've got another."
She accepted it carefully, testing the weight against her palm. "...Thank you."
"Think nothing of it." His smile crinkled the corners of his eyes. "Just promise me one thing."
"What?"
"If you ever reach Azalea Town..." He pointed south with one weathered finger.
"...visit Kurt, my old teacher. If anyone can show you what an Apricorn can become, it's him."
"I will." Ravina nodded, securing the satchel to her belt.
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Chapter 4.14
As Ravina stepped back onto the road, she paused, hand resting on the new Apricorn satchel at her hip. "...One more question."
The old man turned, eyebrows raised in inquiry.
"How much farther?"
He chuckled, weathered face crinkling around kind eyes. "Not far at all." Then he pointed up the gently rising path ahead. "See that hill with the tall oak standing alone?"
Ravina followed his gesture, spotting the distinctive silhouette against the afternoon sky.
"Mr. Pokémon's cottage is just over that rise, tucked in the trees on the other side."
Ravina's shoulders relaxed. "...Really? We're that close?"
"You've almost made it," he confirmed with a knowing smile. "Can't miss it."
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Chapter 4.15
The remaining walk flew by, excitement shortening the distance with each eager step. Trees thinned gradually as the path climbed upward, their canopy giving way to open sky. Then the forest parted, revealing a cottage tucked into the hillside.
Stone steps led to a neat wooden cottage overlooking the countryside, smoke curling from its chimney like a lazy gray ribbon. Flower boxes overflowed with colorful blooms beneath every window, their petals catching the afternoon light. Outside, someone had carefully tended a small vegetable garden, rows of green standing in perfect order.
Peace radiated from the place, a quiet sanctuary removed from the road's bustle.
Cinder halted at Ravina's side, his small body tense with awareness. She smiled down at him, her fingers finding the spot behind his ears. "...I think we've found it."
The Fire-mouse looked toward the cottage, then back at Ravina with questioning eyes, his silent message clear: "Ready?"
Ravina drew a slow breath, the afternoon air filling her lungs. She adjusted the satchel containing Professor Elm's parcel, the weight settling comfortably against her hip. Then she walked toward the front door, Cinder trotting faithfully at her heels, unaware that inside, two people waited whose conversation would quietly change the course of her journey forever.