Chocobo on a Mountain Trail
There was still a nip of winter's lingering chill in the air; the mountain wind rattled the few trees growing along the trade road. But said trees were budding with pale green, about ready to leaf out fully. The streams rushed from above, swollen with thawed snow. Since it was a yearly hazard, the bridges had been built well above the streams. It was rare for them to get flooded out.
"Wark…" Boko lowered his head, looking at the road ahead. One edge was steep drop to a wild river below while the other edge was a sharp incline where landslides might occur.
"It'll be fine," Bartz said, patting the chocobo's neck. "Traders pass by this way all the time. As long as we don't do something stupid like run by at full speed, we'll make it too."
But Boko wouldn't budge. He was used to the fields and forests around town, not the mountains that surrounded this whole valley. Sighing, Bartz glanced up at the sky. It was late afternoon and they had made good progress already. And not too far back, there had been a cave converted into a shelter for travelers. Maybe Boko would be more cooperative tomorrow.
"All right, we'll break for the day," Bartz said, nudging him to turn around. "But we'll have to pass this road later. It's our way out of this place."
Lifting his head again, Boko immediately turned around and brought him back to the shelter. Bartz let the chocobo free to graze while he set up a fire to warm his own meal. There was a convenient firepit already, along with some basic furniture. While his father had taught him how to forage for food in the wild, the rivers were too fast to fish and there wasn't much aside from chocobo greens growing here this time of year. Bartz had packed some things, hopefully enough to make it to another town.
He had to wait on the meal packet to cook, which led him to considering if he should have waited another week or two to leave Lix. It'd be easier to forage when spring was fully started. But then, this had been a rough winter on him already. He'd spent around four months on his own, which didn't bother him too much even when his father hadn't expected to be gone that long. As it turned out, Dorgann had gotten badly injured while he'd been traveling around. He claimed he'd be fine for several weeks.
But truth was, he grew weaker instead of stronger. Bartz continued taking care of their house, but had to take care of his father as well. Dorgann tried to continue doing things as usual; he kept apologizing for days when he felt like he couldn't do much. When he felt decent, they would walk out to the graveyard, possibly to other places in town. Dorgann seemed grim even on those days, concerned about something he wouldn't share. Bartz tried to cheer him up, by inviting friends over or making meals he liked.
Then one day, his father slipped on some ice on one of their walks and couldn't stand on his own. Bartz helped him back home, sending one of the kids playing outside after the town doctor. Unfortunately, the slip had aggravated his original injury. It got infected, which made him sicker… which made him slowly fade away to death. They had done all they could, but winter limited supplies and Dorgann was already weak.
It didn't feel right. While Bartz didn't know the specifics, he knew that his father was an excellent warrior. If he'd passed away in battle… well, he'd still be dead, but there was some honor to that. Dorgann wasn't someone who should be so weak! It hurt to see him in that frail state; it hurt that he was gone now. Bartz had thought over it for a long time, even cried some in private. While his friends helped him out without being asked, the town didn't feel the same with both of his parents gone. Then just a few days ago, he felt he had to do something. One of the last times that Dorgann had talked to him, he said that he wanted for Bartz to see the world for himself. He nearly explained something, but then lost track of what he wanted to say.
What was it that he really meant? Bartz couldn't imagine what. But, he had definitely said that he should see the world. Once Bartz felt like he needed to do something, that was the only thing that came to mind. Go see the world. That meant escaping the valley that his hometown was in, getting through the square ring of rocky peaks. There was only one road, but he was lucky to have Boko as a loyal friend. While the chocobo had seemed eager to run around again, of course he would be uneasy on the mountain trails. Yellow chocobos like Boko preferred plains with plenty of grass and woods that were not too thick. But this would have been so much better if it had been him, his chocobo, and his father. Bartz had always hoped that he could accompany Dorgann on one of those long adventures. Now he had to find his way on his own.
All of a sudden, he found a feathery head nuzzling against his cheek. Boko made a soft hum, concerned for him. There was a roasted smell in the air that made his stomach growl. How much time had passed?
Bartz put a hand against Boko's head and held him there for a moment. He wasn't alone as long as he had Boko at his side. "Thanks, I was just thinking of Dad," he said quietly. "We'll be okay, I'm sure of it. It'll just be tough at the start. For tonight, let's take things easy. The world is a large place and we're in no hurry. But we do have to get out of these mountains."
By the next morning, Bartz had come up with a plan. He headed out of the cave with Boko, then went down the road himself. After a moment, Boko ran in front of him. "Wark!"
"It's fine, I should keep in shape too," Bartz said, patting Boko's back. "You don't have to carry me everywhere."
Boko still seemed puzzled, but soon fell in step beside him. That lasted right until they got to the point where Boko had balked yesterday. Stopping once again, Boko lowered his head nervously. He wanted to step away, but wanted to stay with him too.
Taking a few more steps, Bartz turned around. "Come on, I'll walk you through here. We'll be fine, trust me."
For a moment, he stayed there, scratching the ground and thinking. When Bartz turned back to head on, Boko finally headed down the road too. Bartz put a hand on the chocobo's back once he got to his side to help reassure him. He hoped this would go fine, but this was a treacherous part of the road. When he was a kid, there was always talk that if you were too noisy, it would start an avalanche or landslide. That wasn't always true. But right now when the ice was melting, that might just happen. Boko was quiet out of being nervous while Bartz kept an eye on the land.
It took around a mile before the river side of the road broadened enough for Boko to feel more comfortable. When the chocobo bumped his shoulder and warked, Bartz rode him the rest of the way out of the mountains. It was a winding trail, crossing the river a few times to take advantage of better parts of the terrain. Then came a wide turn that revealed a hilly but open land spread out before them. The trade road could be seen making its way to the south.
"There we go," Bartz said, feeling a little triumphant. "Then, where do we go now?"
"Wark?" Boko slowed down a little to glance back at him.
He smiled. "I guess it doesn't matter. We've made it through the mountains and now we can go wherever we please. Maybe I'm a little old to be saying this, but I'm sure Mom and Dad are watching over us."
"Wark!" Boko replied enthusiastically.
"Whatever Dad wanted me to find, I'm sure we'll run across it eventually." Bartz patted Boko's neck. "Let's follow the trade road to find a large town, just so we know where we can pick up supplies. Then we'll follow the winds and see where they take us. Sound good?"
"Wark!" Boko hurried on to reach the foothills.
Where would they go in the world? Wherever that was, it was surely better than moping about around town. Anything seemed possible.
