My Little Chocobo

Imber walked - almost skipping! - over to the Gridanian chocobokeep, excited beyond words. She was actually going to get a chocobo! Her! A chocobo! 

“Hello! I’m Imber Rein, here for a company chocobo?” Imber called, introducing herself as she approached. The hyur looked up, eyes questioning for a brief moment before they lit up in recognition. 

“Oh! It’s you!! Ifrit’s Bane!” He shouted, and Imber half-winced, half-flinched at the title. “Yes, I’m Cingur, the one who typically handles assigning our birds to new Adders. They’re all Ishgardian stock, I’ll have you know. It’s part of their contributions to the Alliance, providing birds from their own stock for the Grand Companies.”

“Oh! Like Leia!” Imber chirped, and hadn’t that name been a surprise. To say that Luquelot had been shocked to hear that Imber’s homeland had a legend about a heroic princess of the same name, twin to a Hero of Light and one in her own right, well. That certainly made them all happy, and added something a little special to an already extraordinary chocobo. 

“Yes! Exactly like!” the hyur crowed. “I see you’ve been acquainted with the ranch at Bentbranch Meadows. We’re breedin’ our own chocobos there you see - can’t rely on foreigners forever! - but we’ve yet to produce anything as good as a quality Ishgardian bird just yet. But that’s hardly a surprise; our programs are rather young, after all, and Ishgard has had thousands of years to perfect their craft. But we’ll get there eventually!”

“Ah, but listen to me babble on! You’re here for a bird, ain’t’cha? Give me just a minute!” And with that, the chocobokeep ducked inside the stables, leaving Imber outside to wait. It wasn’t long before he reemerged, holding the reins of- wait that was-?!

Imber swallowed thickly, looking into deep black eyes set in a white-feathered face. For a moment, all she could see was her beloved pet and companion, Storm Clouds Rolling Over Blue Skies…and then she blinked, and the illusion was gone, leaving just a pure white chocobo before her. 

“What is it? Not to your liking?” Cingur asked, frowning, and Imber was quick to reassure him otherwise. 

“Nonono, I just - he reminded me of Storm.” Imber explained, the familiar pain of aching loss clawing at her heart. “He was a parakeet, and white just like that chocobo, just with bits of grays and even a spot of a beautiful blue on his back.” The miqo’te swallowed. “Sorry, I just miss him. But you’re not here to hear about that. I’ve never had a chocobo before, so I trust your judgement on which one’s best suited for me.”

The hyur snorted. “‘Best suited’? All these chocobos are equally suited for people. What do you think a good quality chocobo is, eh?”

“Uhhh…we didn’t have any?” Imber winced, voice cracking in embarrassment. At the chocobokeep’s bewildered look, she quickly added, “Where I come from, we don’t have chocobos.”

“Ah, not an Eorzean native then.” Cingur nodded, much to Imber’s relief. “Them other continents don’t have native chocobo populations, after all.”

“Heheh, yeah.” Imber said, before turning to look back at the white bird that was currently regarding her with intelligent eyes. Eyes that were almost unsettlingly so. “So, what’s white do?”

“Eh?”

“Um, do you not…do feather colors not, you know, do anything?” Imber asked, feeling incredibly stupid even as she said it. Cingur’s eyebrow shot up. 

“Now where’d you go an’ hear a thing like THAT?!”

“It’s- stories in my homeland, okay!” Imber blurted out frantically. “Y’know, about chocobos. That there’s different colors, and each can do something. Like, yellow’s the norm, but then there’s greens who can scale even the steepest of cliffs, blues that can walk on water, golds that can fly…you know.”

Cingur laughed. “I most certainly don’t! I gotta say, that’s a first for me. No, chocobos come in all kinds of colors in captivity, nothin’ else to it. ‘Cept blacks, those are the ones that fly. But what many folks don’t realize is that black chocobos are actually a subspecies of the typical birds we know and love. They’d have to, given where they live. Never did hear of no gold chocobo, though…” The chocobokeep didn’t elaborate, and Imber didn’t push. She’d already embarrassed herself enough today thank you. 

“Don’t worry, lass. I may laugh, but there’s no shame to be had.” Cingur said kindly, and was it really that obvious on her face? “You can’t do worse than the two forestborn lads who came for chocobos a couple years back. Couldn’t tell their own heads from their backsides, let alone hold a ‘bo right.” The man scoffed, but there was no heat to it. “Ended up getting a good kick to the chest, and lemme tell ya, these birds have some good legs on em. I almost felt sorry for E-Sumi-Yan, having to treat them idiots.” the hyur finished, chuckling. Imber couldn’t help but smile along. 

“He hasn’t told me that story.”

“Not so much to tell, at least on his end.” Cingur shrugged, before shaking his head. “Ach, and here I’ve gone and gotten sidetracked again. My apologies, Private Rein.”

“No, it’s alright. I like to hear stories.” Imber was quick to reassure the chocobokeep. “Plus I’ve learned a lot just from you rambling already.”

Cingur chuckled. “Well, that’s mighty kind of ya to say. Now then, I won’t see Ifrit’s Bane on some regular old yellow, so if he’s to your liking, you’ll have this one.” He decided, thoughtlessly pressing the reigns of the white-feathered chocobo into Imber’s hand. 

“What-?”

“He don’t have a name yet, that’s up to the ones who get em.” The chocobokeep shrugged. “Got any ideas?”

Imber looked away from Cingur, away from the reigns she held clutched in one hand, and into the intelligent eyes of the great white bird before her. 

“…Storm. I’ll name him Storm.”