The night had been long.
Edie and Alyssa had spent hours alongside the ranch workers, tending to the injured Pokémon after the horde attack. It was quiet work, broken only by quick commands, the hiss of healing sprays, and the low whimpers of wounded creatures.
The horde had been made up of Rookidees and Corvisquires. Few of the ranch's own Pokémon were seriously hurt; most of the damage had fallen upon the winged visitors, gathered one by one after the stampede.
More than a hundred Pokémon had been rescued. After initial treatment — a potion here, a bandage there — they were carefully placed into empty Poké Balls. Evert, calm and precise, operated a transport machine that looked like a phone booth cut in half. The old terminal still worked, glowing green and blue each time a Poké Ball was inserted, disappearing in a bright flash toward the nearest Pokémon Center.
Edward watched with curiosity and wonder. He had no idea how the machine actually worked. It was basically a teleportation device. All he knew was that, somehow, it was helping save lives.
Beyond the wounded, there were broken trees and shattered fences. The field looked as though a storm had torn through it. Some workers sighed in exhaustion, others seemed discouraged. But when Edward asked Evert about the damage, the old man just smiled and shook his head.
"This is nothing," he said. "Trees grow back. Fences can be fixed. What matters most is still here: people willing to rebuild. People and Pokémon. And that, we have plenty of."
Edward found the old man's unshakable spirit beautiful. It was something only those who had endured a great deal could carry.
He and Alyssa went to bed at seven in the morning. The sun was already high in the sky when they finally collapsed into their beds. Alyssa grumbled the whole time, annoyed at missing what she called her "sacred beauty sleep." But Edward could barely keep his eyes open to respond.
They slept like rocks.
Only woke up at dinner time.
When they came down, the soft light of dusk lit up the yard. Evert had gathered all the workers and Pokémon of the ranch to celebrate. A massive table, stretched out beside the main house, was covered with all kinds of food: grilled meats, fresh bread, cooked vegetables, sweet juices. Laughter echoed between plates and glasses. Even the Pokémon seemed to smile.
Alyssa dove straight into the feast, cheerful and animated. But Edward stepped away in silence.
He felt something missing — like a part of him that should never be gone had been left behind.
That was when he noticed the guitar, leaning against a bench on the porch. The instrument looked old, its varnish darkened and the body marked with time, yet it was still beautiful. The wood gleamed faintly under the lantern light, and the strings — slightly rusted — had clearly been changed recently. Its neck was a deep brown, as though it had absorbed too many stories.
Edward approached, picked it up gently, and sat on the porch steps, facing the table where everyone was celebrating. He rested the instrument on his lap and tested the strings with his fingers.
The notes came out soft.
And with them, his voice — tired, but steady.
> I am not the only traveler
Who has not repaid his debt
I've been searching for a trail to follow again
Take me back to the night we met...
The melody was calm. Sad.
"The Night We Met" wasn't a song of celebration.
But it was the song the guitar, in Edie's hands, chose to sing.
> And then I can tell myself
What the hell I'm supposed to do
And then I can tell myself
Not to ride along with you...
The ranch workers gradually fell silent. Couples embraced, eyes fixed on the boy who sang. Old Evert stared at Edward, but his eyes seemed lost in memories — wandering through moments he might not even be able to name.
> I had all and then most of you
Some and now none of you
Take me back to the night we met...
Alyssa, usually so full of energy, leaned back in her chair, watching Edward closely. It was rare to see her so quiet.
> I don't know what I'm supposed to do
Haunted by the ghost of you
Oh, take me back to the night we met...
When the last note faded into the air, tearful faces could be seen everywhere. The workers looked at the ground or up at the sky, eyes glistening. Evert discreetly wiped a tear from the corner of his eye.
Silence hung in the air for a few moments — light, heavy, and needed. Until Alyssa shouted:
"ONE MORE, EDIE-BOY! ONE MORE!"
The crowd applauded. And then the requests started.
Edward smiled, almost shyly. But he put his fingers back to the strings.
> I walk through the valley of the shadow of death...
He sang "Through the Valley" by Shawn James. Then "Wish You Were Here" by Pink Floyd. And others still. He sang everything the guitar wanted to say that night.
Houndour lay at his feet and stayed there, alert, as if he understood every word.
And Edward smiled at the Pokémon's behavior. The celebration lasted for hours.
By the end of the night, Edward was hoarse. He sat in an empty chair and looked up at the moon, shining bright in the sky.
Evert sat beside him. He smiled at the boy like a grandfather would to his grandson.
"You've got a good voice, son."
Edward smiled at the old man's words.
"Thank you, sir Evert. Sorry for taking the guitar without asking."
Evert simply shook his head and smiled.
"It's all right, boy. It's been sitting there collecting dust since my wife passed. She'd be happy to know it's being played again."
Edward was momentarily speechless.
"I'm sorry about your wife, sir."
Once again, the old man only nodded.
"Don't be, son. She lived a long, happy life. In the end, everything goes... and starts again. That's the way of things. We have to learn to understand that. Death is just the beginning of another journey."
He looked at Edward with kind eyes.
"Keep the guitar, boy. Play it. Keep her memory alive with your music. That's a favor an old man asks of you."
Edward didn't know how to respond at first. But he nodded, smiling.
Evert glanced at the Houndour, peacefully sleeping beneath Edward's chair, and smiled again.
"Speaking of favors... could you take care of Houndour for me? He seems to have taken quite a liking to you."
Edward was surprised by the request.
"I'm not sure if I should, sir. Would he want to come with me? I mean, this is his home."
Evert shook his head.
"Since Petunia passed, Houndour hasn't been happy here, son. For the first time in months, I saw him leave the barn for something other than food."
He looked at the dark-furred dog, who pretended to sleep beneath the chair, and chuckled softly.
"Well, let's let him decide then. Houndour — do you want to stay here, or go with Edward?"
For a few seconds, there was no answer. Edward thought Houndour really was asleep — but that thought vanished when the Pokémon stood and rested his head on Edward's lap, letting out a short, powerful bark.
Evert smiled.
"Then it's decided."
He reached into his pocket, rummaged for a moment, and pulled out a Dusk Ball, handing it to Edward.
Edward smiled at Evert and Houndour, and looked down at the black dog before him.
"Looks like I'm in your care now, Houndour."
Houndour barked again, loud and firm.
A guitarist followed by a black dog.
Edward smiled at the irony.
He hoped to write more songs — and live longer than Robert Johnson, at least.