The plan was simple: wake up early, grab the guitar, head to the market, and play a few songs. Maybe earn some coins. Maybe catch the attention of someone important. Simple.
But plans, Edie had already learned, are like sandcastles. All it takes is an unexpected tide to knock everything down.
He was still sipping his second coffee when Alyssa flung the door open, eyes gleaming like she'd just found treasure.
"Put your boots on, Edie boy. We've got work."
"I had plans," he muttered, still holding his mug.
"Now you've got better ones. Come on, my brave squire!"
Before he could argue, Alyssa grabbed his sleeve and dragged him outside. Her steps were far too determined to be questioned. Edie stumbled behind her like a wet dog, tripping over his own feet and his own doubts.
"Okay, but where exactly are we going?" he asked, looking around.
"Community service!" she replied, almost skipping. "A nearby farm has an infestation problem. Rookidee, Corvisquire, and even a Corviknight are attacking the crops. The Alliance wants the area cleared."
Edie stopped walking.
"Aly… You do realize I don't have a Pokémon, right? That's not something you forget. Like… 'where are my glasses'—this is important."
She turned, wearing that look that said she'd already thought of everything.
"Of course I noticed. That's exactly why you're coming. With luck, one of the fledglings might stick around after we drive off the flock. You can catch one."
"And if they kill me first?"
"Then I'll write a song in your honor. Something soft. With piano."
Edie let out a defeated sigh.
"Why am I here again?"
"Because you've got nowhere else to run, Edie boy. And because you need a Pokémon if you ever want to play alongside my band. It's in the contract, remember?"
"We don't have a contract."
"Yes, we do. Verbal. And magical. Sealed with the blood of missing guitarists."
"Do you make this up in your sleep?"
"Only when I have nightmares."
As they argued, the landscape changed. The urban houses gave way to dirt roads and open fields. The breeze carried the scent of hay, and birds circled the fruit trees in the distance. The sky was clear, blue as glass.
Then Edie saw the farm gate: a tall fence surrounded the orchard, with a sign swinging lazily in the wind. In faded blue paint, it read:
"Sky Orchard"
"This the place?" Edie asked, squinting.
"Yep. Pretty, huh?"
"Massive. That's what it is."
"And infested. Also that."
Before they could reach the gate, four shadows emerged from the trees. Four Houndour and one enormous Houndoom blocked their path with deep growls.
The Houndoom, especially, looked like it had crawled straight out of a nightmare. Its dark coat shone like coal, and there was something almost human in the way it stared at Edie—as if it knew he didn't belong there.
Alyssa stepped forward gently, hands raised in peace.
"Hey there, easy now, beauties. We're here to help."
The Houndoom sniffed the air, studied them for long seconds, then gave a slight nod.
"He just let us in?" Edie whispered.
"Yep. Now move. Before he changes his mind."
The path to the main house was lined with fruit-laden trees. Rookidee pecked at the upper branches, some flying off as the humans approached. Miltank grazed lazily, and a few Wooloo rolled between the bushes like living cotton balls.
Every now and then, a Houndour emerged silently, watching. It was clear they were being closely monitored.
When they reached the porch of the main house—a colonial wooden building with a faded blue roof—the Houndoom howled. Moments later, an older man with graying hair stepped out, wiping his hands on a cloth.
"You two the ones the Alliance sent?" he asked warily.
"That's us!" Alyssa replied. "I'm Alyssa, and this is Edie boy—my squire, bard, and future Pokémon trainer."
"Hmph. Young. Very young."
"Age is a prison of the mind, sir."
The old man sighed.
"Come in. Better explain the situation properly."
Inside, the house smelled of fresh cake and polished wood. A map of the orchard was spread out on the main table. The man—who introduced himself as Grandpa Evert—pointed to a section on the eastern side of the orchard.
"They always strike here. Usually late afternoon. Starts with a few—Rookidee and Corvisquire. Then the Corviknight shows up last. Leads the others."
"And when your dogs react?" Alyssa asked.
"They try. But the Corviknight's clever. When he sees he's losing, he flies off and takes the others with him."
Alyssa smiled like that was exactly what she'd hoped to hear.
"Then we just have to clip the commander's wings."
"Easy to say," Edie muttered.
"We've got a plan," Alyssa said confidently. "Give me a smaller map and some tape. I'm gonna show that Corviknight how we do ambushes downtown."
Grandpa Evert chuckled.
"Not sure if I should be scared or excited."
"Both. Go with both."
Edie, meanwhile, leaned back in the chair and stared at the map. This wasn't the life he'd dreamed of. But somehow, beside Alyssa—with wild plans, wild Pokémon, and guitars echoing in the background he felt excited