Hero Trial #8

Hero Trial #8

“I have to fight a WHAT?!”

Russell scrunched his eyes in annoyance for the umpteenth time, curtsey of Jack’s whining. “You heard me the last dozen or so times, Jack.”

“But look at me!” Jack cried. Cherry was currently mending him since his last fight, which included a scraped arm and bruised head. As good as magic and potions were for stopping blood, they can’t be said the same for fixing bones or even minor injuries. “How do you expect me to go out there like this for my next fight?”

Russell shook his head in exasperation. “Jack, this is our best break ever since we entered you in this tournament! You got lucky facing something as fierce as a Minotaur, and now you’re complaining because of your next opponent is literally a breeze?”

“Be far, Russell,” Paula shrugged from her spot on the bench. “After all, I would be surprised too if my next opponent, of all things, was a chicken.”

“A WHAT?!” Jack cried again.

As always, Jack Clainn didn’t see the big picture. For one reason or another, he was the fabled and needed ‘hero’ of Elem, who only comes to save the world in dire need. Such a need was right now, finding the three elemental artifacts. As of now, they found the first one; The Staff of Water, as a grand prize in the Titans Tournament. It wasn’t easy though; most of the trial was getting to the city of Yorik. Now that they were finally here, and just a few matches away to winning, all appears that this would be easy. Unfortunately for Jack however, TOO easy.

Russell growled, unable to keep going on this ridiculous exchange any further. It almost made him regret choosing Jack to enter instead of himself; he may be the strongest of the four of them, but at least Russell would have gone through despite moral values. “For crying out loud, Jack, why are you so bent out of shape for this!? You couldn’t ask for a better easy match! IT’S. A. CHICKEN! A fowl! A rooster! A small tasty bird! Everyone in the tournament would kill to have a chance to fight one!”

“I can’t expect to go out to that, that… THING! A hero doesn’t gain popularity or fame from easy wins!”

“He does if the tournament demands it,” Russell bitterly replied. He caught himself in almost blurting out “fixes it”, as that would drive Jack further away.

“Jack, you better not forfeit.” Paula warned, noticing a familiar look on his face.

“If you do, you’ll be a bigger chicken than a chicken itself!” Russell added.

“You just don’t understand,” Jack sighed.

“Jack,” Cherry finished mending his wounds and now focused her attention of the young black haired hero with understanding eyes. “What I think they’re trying to say is that you have an obligation and duty to win the tournament for the Staff of Water, despite the challenges. You would still fight if it was against a dragon or griffin, right?”

“Yes, but-“

“So if you’re willing to go and face strong opponents, I’m sure that chicken would want the chance to fight a strong hero such as yourself.”
Jack blinked, letting the information sink in. It came to him that Cherry was right, that he shouldn’t disappoint the chicken in what’s bound to be the most exciting fight of its life.

“How does she do that?” Paula whispered; baffled to this day how easily Cherry can change Jack’s mind on a fly.

“He likes her, so she uses that to her advantage,” Russell shrugged. “I don’t care, honestly, as long as he fights that freaking chicken!”

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Some time later, Jack was standing in the stadium ring of the Coliseum. He still looked shaken about who he’s fighting, but Cherry managed to convince him to at least do it for her (and the team). An introduction was made by the announcer, calling up the combatants, and fans screamed their anticipation for a good show… which is no surprise when they more or less died out when a chicken came up to the ring.

The chicken did nothing at first. Just walking around, clucking, and pecking the ground as if there were seeds around to eat. Of course, that wasn’t to say it LOOKED normal while it acted the part. It had a distinct coloring of green feathers instead of white, a slightly bulky appearance, and a tail.

“Doesn’t that chicken look off to you?” Paula asked from the audience. Before Russell could answer, the referee called out for the audience’s attention again.

“In honor of the Elem ancients who crafted this world, I present the next match of the Titans Tournament! Newcomer contestant Jack Clainn, against the dreaded and legendary creature: Cockatrice!”

Jack’s smile faltered. “Cock-a-what?” he asked.

The greenish chicken, hearing its introduction, suddenly let out a long, fowl screech to the sky, exhaling out a large stream of flames. The audience was silent at the display, before breaking out in a loud applause. Jack and his entourage didn’t look as confident.

“A COCKATRICE!?” Cherry cried into Russell’s ear. “You said it was just a chicken!”

“Well, all I knew was that the opponent was part chicken,” Russell admitted. “I didn’t expect the other half to be a dragon.”

“Looks like Jack is going to get that challenge he wanted after all,” Paula sighed.

“Are you ready?” the referee asked.

“Not anymore!” Jack cried, still trying to grasp the concept of fighting something as tough, or even TOUGHER, than a Minotaur.

The referee ignored him however, and he shouted “BEGIN!”

Almost immediately the cockatrice went from docile to aggressive and charged forward, cawing all the way as flames rushed out. Jack barely had time to step back, and run away from the flames. He barely kept a lead as the chicken-hybrid circled him around the stadium, carving the ground in flames in hope to catch him.

Then the flames stopped, as the cockatrice paused to catch a breath. Jack did as well, tired from out running the flames behind him. Afterward, the cockatrice cawed fire again and Jack was running again, all in a circle until the two were tired, repeating the process all over again.

Russell and Paula hung their faces down in shame and humiliation; their hero was more chicken than a half-chicken. The rest of the audience didn’t take too well to the fight either, booing at them. Cherry, worried for his safety and overall victory, tried to encourage him.

“Jack! Remember, you’re fighting to give him a chance to show what a hero you are!”

“Tell that to the dragon-half of the chicken!” Jack complained, but he stopped and turned back to the cockatrice all the same. Suddenly remembering he had a shield, he pulled it out and used it to block the flames until the subsided. Only problem was that it was made of wood, and was now burning to the roots. “Ow! I’m going to need a new one of those!”

“Money doesn’t grow on trees, Jack!” Russell exclaimed.

“Yeah, but this thing is made from one!” Jack retorted, and threw the flaming shield. It hit its target dead on, staggering the hybrid creature, giving it more then enough time for his next attack.

“I can only do this attack at least three times a day, but I think I can manage giving you a taste of it.” He pulled his arm back, light and energy gathering solely on the hand. As he felt the energy reach its peak, he released it quickly before the cockatrice could counter attack. “SHIIIIIIIINING BLAST!”

At the release of his out-stretched knuckle, a beam of light shot forth and engulfed the creature, drowning all other sounds with the cry of ‘SHIIIIIIII’. The arena was also blinded by the flash that followed, surrounding man and beast alike.

When the light died out, all that stood was Jack, with his hand stretched out, and what remained of the Cockatrice; now dead and roasted into golden brown, like a roast chicken dinner. The audience stared in silence, before exchanging glances with one another, and erupting in another big cheer.

“Well, that’s one way to kill a chicken,” Russell admitted.

“Cockatrice,” Paula and Cherry reminded him bitterly.

“The winner!” The referee called out. “Jack Clainn!”

Russell was right, Jack thought. That WAS an easy match. “Who’s next?!”