Warrior of the Void Book 1, Chapter 38

“Right, so we’ve got two options here,” Registering to take up the escort jobs had been quick and painless, thanks to the poor overworked (and probably underpaid) clerk at the registration desk. Leaving the pair of adventurers free to take the aetheric network to the Ossuary’s front yard, and walk to the Gate of the Sultana, in front of which they now stood, from there, “Either we walk there. Which will take… roughly half a bell, or we take a rental chocobo. Which will cut the time to only five minutes, and the caravan only leaves in three-quarters of a bell.”

“I’m going to say rental. I’ve always wanted to see what it was like to ride one, but never really got the chance.” Muur decided with barely a thought, bobbing her head along.

“Alright, let’s go to the porter then…,” Kofle turned to the chocobo pen, barely visible past the crowd moving in and out of the city, that sat next to the gate house, “Just, uh. Don’t stare?” She called out with a hollow chuckle as they got closer.

“Keep my eyes on my girlfriend, got it.” Muur said without hesitation or mercy.

“Not what I meant,” Her partner grumbled with a sigh, “But you know what. Good en–” “GREETINGS!” 

Before she could even finish, she was interrupted by an incredibly loud call that cut through the city’s background noises, not that anyone around them reacted in anyway, “What may I do for you misses?” Striding into view, like a god made flesh was… a thing, a creature that had ascended past mortal limitations.

It was a gigantic slab of a man, wearing the single most garishly yellow tunic she’d ever seen. One that was fighting for its fucking life and only just barely contained the man’s enormous bulk. But that wasn’t all, tied around his waist was a brown apron covered in cutesy chocobo chicks, some only just hatching from their eggs while others (which looked to be messily sown in additions) happily ran around while wearing their eggshell as a hat. Sensibly, his pants were relatively normal, as were his sandals.

What was not normal and both elevated his outfit from quirky to ridiculous and shy of being cringe was the helmet. From where she stood, Muur could tell that it was made out of legitimately high quality steel as it glistened in the sunlight. Which just made the fact that it was shaped exactly like a chocobo’s head, yellow bird feathers fluttering at the back of it included, all the more baffling.

Didn’t at all stop her from telling the man, “Looking good, hombre!” with complete honesty in her voice and bright grin.

“Thank you!” He boomed, pointing in her direction, “I am gladdened to meet one that can appreciate my uniform like I!”

“A chocobo for me and my partner, bound for Scorpion’s Crossing.” Kofle announced, probably in an attempt at stopping the pair of weirdos from getting really going.

“But of course!” Lifting his head towards the birds behind him, the man slid into a strongman pose with his hands on his hips as if it was as natural as breathing for him, and gave three short whistles. Instantly, two of the chocobo raised their head away from their feed buckets and slowly walked towards them.

“Oh, uh. She’s never rode on one before.” Her girlfriend quickly added.

“Oh?” Spinning to look at Muur, the Chocoboman seemed to stare into her very soul, his eyes hidden in the black pits of darkness that were the eyeholes cut into the mask, ”Is that so?”

“Quite. The breed of warbird back home is very different, more of a flier than a runner.” Muur replied with nothing to hide, “I have rode on camels and horses, but those are all four-legged, so I don’t expect much will translate over.”

“Flier? Aaaah, something akin to the black chocobos of Ishgard mayhaps! Well no matter! if it is your first time then–” spinning on his heels, he tutted at one of the birds. The large horsebird blinked at him and warked before going back to his food, “Please wait here a moment!”

In a moment, he was gone, humming the timeless chocobo song and petting the various birds that crowed around him as he entered the stables proper, “I can’t believe this.” Shaking her head, Kofle walked up to her rental chocobo and gave it a good scratch behind the eyes. It seemed to absolutely love that and leaned into the scritches with a happy little warble.

“Something the matter?” Muur asked with a quizzical tilt of her horned head.

The Miqo’te paused in her efforts to make her bird to lower itself so she could give the Au’Ra a look that screamed ‘are you kidding me?’

Given how the lizard’s mouth split into a shit-eating grin, the answer didn’t need to be spoken, either.

“I shouldn’t have mentioned the porters,” She groaned, slipping a foot in the chocobo's stirrup and mounting it in one smooth motion, “Why did I think you wouldn’t be like this? Why didn’t I see this coming? We met the guy that came up with their uniforms two days ago…”

“I love you, you keep introducing me to all sorts of wonderful people.” Muur replied, the warmth in her voice completely genuine despite how she was still being a turdmuffin about everything.

“I have ret–! Is anything the matter?” The chocobo man, still in all of his muscular glory, chose that moment to come out from the stables. Right behind him was a chocobo– though it looked to be in a bizarrely poor shape. So far, each and every chocobo looked to be lovingly cared for. Their feathers were of a resplendent yellow that almost shimmered gold in the sun, their beaks were as sharp as a razor and their legs stomped along the floor with vigor as they moved about their pen.

This one… not so much. Its feathers lacked any sort of luster, taking on more of a drab, washed out sandy colour than the proper yellow of the others. The beak on its face was cracked in multiple places– in fact one of these cracks ran almost all the way to where beak met flesh, and its legs- poor thing was shaking with every step, as if she was the victim of a localised earthquake everytime her talons touched the floor.

“No, it’s nothing,” Kofle shrugged, before staring at the chocobo, “Is it…?”

“That’d be ol’ Marigold,” The man said, waving away the concern that had blossomed in the adventuring pair’s eyes. Though only in part, even his jovial voice was somewhat strained as he led Marigold closer to Muur, “She’s an old thing, been in this stable since before I was an apprentice chocobokeep. Kindest bird you’ll see in town– but also most insufferable old hag too.” As soon as the words ‘old hag’ left his lips, the bird snapped at his head with vigour it didn’t seem to have seconds ago.

The chocobokeep for his part, just gently batted her away, “Biggest drama queen and diva too!” Rebuffed, the chocobo ruffled her feathers in annoyance. Stomping her foot, she tried to turn away, but the Hyur’s grip on her reins kept her in place, “Up-upup! Nooooo, you stop that this instant old lady!” She tried to shake him off, but to no avail, “Alright, down!” Snapping his fingers, he pointed to the floor, “Down!” Somewhat reluctantly, the bird obeyed. Folding its legs under its body, it sat down in front of Muur.

“She’s also our best bird for teaching new riders. Too old to be willful and throw poor riders off her back,” Reaching into his apron, he pulled out a fist-sized head of cabbage and offered it to Muur, “This here’s a Gysahl Green. A chocobo's favourite,” She could tell. As soon as it was out of his pocket, Marigold’s eyes locked onto the greenery and didn’t leave it, “Here, take it and give it to her. You’ll want to hold it with a three fingered pinch, not a flat hand. You’re liable to get pecked by their beaks if you do.”

“And holding it by the sides like a clay pot is liable to have them peck through the whole thing and have it crumple on itself, yes?” Muur asked rhetorically as she did exactly as she was instructed, keeping her body language open and relaxed. Shoulders loose, tail nearly dragging on the ground, no teeth showing.

The bird’s eyes followed along, patiently waiting until Muur was close enough to present the green, “It can work, and gyashls are hardy things, so they wouldn’t crumple. But it’s a bird-per-bird basis. Some, like her, like to pick at the leaves first,” Sure enough, when Muur offered up the snack, Marigold gave a happy little warble and pecked at the cabbage, tearing up bits of leaves each time, “Others will just bite down on the whole thing at once, and to do that, they’ll usually need to come at an angle, so holding it by the sides can be a bit dicey. I’ve also found it's faster to let go of the green with a pinched grip than a proper finger and palm one, in case of emergencies. Now she’s eatin’ try scratching her two thumbs lengths behind her eyes, chocobos ears are right around there and they love getting gentle scratches in that area. In the wilds other birds preen it for them, but tamed ones don’t do it for each other. It’s a bit too sensitive, so their beaks tend to irritate that spot, our soft and flesh fingers on the other hand? Perfect for the job– no using your fingernails though.”

“Some prefer something a bit firmer like the joints of curled up fingers, I bet.” Muur mused as she did exactly as instructed, mindful of her nails. She wasn’t enough of a lizard to have them be proper claws, but they had been getting a bit long lately.

Marigold stopped eating for a moment, warbling happily and leaning into the petting with her eyes closed. It was honestly kind of adorable how the feathers on her neck were trembling in joy, or how her wings gave little flutters whenever Muur’s fingers got her juuuuust right, “Aye. Again, depends on the bird. Some draught ones actually prefer a firm brush to fingers, Just be mindful of not sticking your finger in her, or any other chocobo’s, ear hole. It’s one of the few things that will turn a bird aggressive, even the most even tempered ones. Once she’s done with her food, run your hands along her neck, it’ll let her know to lay it on the ground. It’ll make mounting easier for you, and less dangerous for her. Poor lady’s neck is a bit too old to be able to take on the weight of someone messing up their first mounting and accidentally yanking on it for support.” 

Muur’s memories of this world proved both extremely useful, and a bit of a hindrance. She’d already climbed on various beaties. Horses were the ones she’d taken a ride on the most, after all any Xaela child was expected to know how to climb and ride one at five years of age. But she’d also been on the back of stranger things too, magitek walkers that her teacher had… acquired had been one of them, and once she’d managed to wrangle a ride from her uncle Ghengis and his Yol. That last one had nearly ended in disaster when she’d moved one too many times in his lap and annoyed the bird enough it corkscrewed in the air in an effort to knock her off.

Thankfully, the chocobo was neither a machine with an incomprehensible number of knobs, buttons, dials, gauges and pedals. Or an apex avian predator looking to get rid of the insufferable hatchling on its back. Even so, getting on the old lady’s back required the chocobokeep to correct her whenever the muscle memory took over.

“There you go!” His mirthful boom signaled her first successful mounting of Final Fantasy’s most famous critter, “Now! A few rules that you’ll need to observe as she carries you to your destination. The reins here are not for directing her, as a porter, she knows where she’s going and will stubbornly refuse to go anywhere else. Birds like her are trained to speed up when their reins are given a shake, and slow down when pulled but that’s all they’ll do. Second, you’re free to get off the bird at any point once you bring her to a stop– or if you can manage it, you can just jump off, I know you adventurers type. But she’ll not wait for you, so make sure you know what you’re doing if you decide to get off. You’ll get a nasty peck, or worse a kick, if you try to get back on. Any other questions?”

“I can only imagine how many headaches led to having to train the birds into that.” Muur chuckled wryly, before shaking her head, “But no, I think I’m good.”

“HAHA! Good to hear!” Waving them goodbye, the chocobokeep sent the adventuring pair off with a smile, “I wish you a pleasant ride to your destination! And do remember the Mandervile Chocobo Porting services if ever you need to find yourself somewhere else on the back of a chocobo!”