One Big Chicken

Job:

Spoiler:

So this was how his Blue Pegasus career was starting out.

“Maybe they didn’t want to overburden me.” Eliot wondered as he walked down the street, his hands clasped behind his head. Maybe it was his age, maybe it was his naiveté as a wizard or maybe all of the budding stars of Blue Pegasus were sent on a job like this. Either way he was aiming to impress the rest of the guild and, if that meant doing this job, by god he would do it.

He spotted the small farm house just down the road. It was much smaller than his old home. In comparison, Eliot couldn’t help but feel a bit lucky. His foster parents owned a ranch compared to this small cabin. But he wasn’t one to judge and pushed the thought aside as he rapped his knuckles against the wooden door.

Well, it was time to get this going. His first job!

The door swung open and revealed the wrinkled face of a man, staring back at him through narrowed slits for eyes. He looked the boy up and down, his face scrunched. He looked quite unimpressed with the wizard that had been sent his face.

“You the wizard?” He asked, chewing on his lips.

Eliot smiled wide and nodded. “That’s me, sir. Eliot Malpirg of Blue Pegasus. I hear you’re having trouble with your chickens.”

“Chicken.” The farmer responded quickly.

The boy’s face wrinkled in confusion. “Oh. One chicken? The job description said-…”

“Well it’s wrong. It’s just one chicken.” The farmer grumbled in annoyance. He twisted away from the door and began to walk towards the back of his cottage, where another door was located. Eliot stood in the first doorway, blinking. The old man turned around and glared back at him with a scowl.

“Well stop dilly-dallying and get in here.”

Eliot moved through the door uneasily, glancing around the room. It was quaint; a single room packed full of all the necessary items. A small stove-top kitchen in the right-hand corner, lit up by tiny lacrima lanterns. A dining table with a single chair right beside it. A bed in the other corner with a rocking chair posted near the front window. It was comfortable.

“Do you make it a habit of standing and gawking, boy?” The farmer squawked at him, causing Eliot to straighten up.

“I'm sorry sir!” He said as he ran over to the man’s side, rubbing the back of his head worriedly. “So where is the little chick that you need help with? Did it run off somewhere?

“Little?” The farmer said, finally cracking a grin in front of the teenager. “Did you even read the post?”

Eliot could feel the hair on the back of his neck rise. “Y-yeah. Why?”

The door swung open from the old man's forceful kick, the hinges squealing like babes rudely awoken. Eliot blinked against the sudden basking of light in his eyes before he stepped outside into the yard. The heavy smell of mud drifted into his nose, causing his skin to wrinkle.

“Ol’ Mary is not small chicken, boy. She’s been injected with a special growth hormone that makes her the queen of the chicks!” The old man explained, pointing a weathered hand towards the field in front of him.

Eliot’s eyes trailed towards the spot he was pointing and his jaw immediately dropped. There, wobbling back and forth on its thick orange legs, was the aforementioned Old Mary. She was nearly as tall as him with a wing-span that was definitely longer than him!

“THAT’S Mary? Why would you make a chicken so big?!” He said, turning around with wide eyes to face the farmer.

He snickered. “To sell big eggs, o’course! Her pen is right in the corner there. Don’t worry about wrangling her; she ought to be chargin’ you right about…now.”

The farmer pulled the door shut, prompting the teenager to spin on his heels. And, just like he had warned, the chicken had begun to squawk upon noticing the boy. Its heavy, clawed feet took a couple of wary steps before they began to pound into the ground swiftly, sending the fowl charging at the young wizard.

“Oh no,” Was the only thing that escaped Eliot’s lips as his instincts kicked in. He had dealt with chickens and roosters during his time on his foster parent’s farm but nothing in comparison to this. His head moved on a swivel looking for some answer to his situation.

The pen. The farmer had mentioned the pen. He locked eyes onto the metal entrapment, waiting patiently for its owner to return. Pushing off the ground as hard as he could manage, Eliot burst into a sprint for the cage, keeping a careful eye on the chicken that was fast approaching.

It slid inside the open coop, his boots kicking up clouds of dust as he tried to stop his wild pace. Mary ducked inside the pen, beak splayed as she let out a might squawk. But the teenager was much too quick for her, ducking underneath her legs and causing the fowl to look underneath itself for the boy.

And all it saw was the gate slamming shut behind it, sealing it inside.

“Oh yeah!” Eliot cried out, pumping his fist into the air. The chicken cocked its head at him and blinked, as if surprised such a young thing could outwit it.

But then humans have outwitted chickens for many years, haven’t they?