The Author's Will

14 | Little Sprout

Perched on the window sill, was a large, white phoenix, with eyes shining as brightly as the sun. Its body was slender and elegant, with long, beautiful white feathers that fell to the ground like a rippling gown around its feet. The edges of its feathers looked as though they were fading into glittering golden dust - as its jewel-like eyes stared intently at the little girl in front of it.

"Hold on a second—" the bird suddenly spoke, it's beak opening in confusion. It examined Irene, who was watching it blankly, before glancing about the area in a rather frantic manner. "Don't tell me I was summoned by you?"

"Um... Yes?" Irene nodded slowly, almost inaudibly, still stunned by the creature before her. But just as she responded this way, the bird suddenly lifted its feathers up to its head.

"What?! You're telling me that I, the last white phoenix to ever exist, was summoned by a mere human sprout?!" The bird squawked, and all of a sudden, he wasn't looking as elegant as he did a few seconds ago.

Irene blinked, her brows furrowing. "B-By 'Sprout,' do you mean me...?"

"Of course! Why are you, a tiny little sprout who's not even a half-grown human, able to summon me?!" The phoenix cried, his wings and head drooping in shame. "When did I stoop so low...? I spent thousands of years waiting for this day... And yet I'm summoned by a mere child!"

Irene's eyes narrowed, slightly offended. She frowned at the bird, starting to get slightly offended by its attitude. "Hey! That's not a very nice way to talk to the person that summoned you - your new master," she argued, her cheeks puffing up. "I may be small, but I'm a lot more grown up than I look!"

"Master?! As if I would bow to someone who's half my height! And I'm a bird!" With another huffing sound, the phoenix stood up from the window sill, raising its neck straight up into the air. "How were you able to summon me, Little Sprout? Did you cheat? Did you eat gold? Or swallow a magical fly?"

"I did none of those things," Irene harrumphed, crossing her arms. "And please don't call me that! My name is Irene Cherliann, and I'm the daughter of a powerful duke here in Laydel."

The bird didn't seem too impressed. "So, you're just some rich kid," he grumbled, laying down dramatically on the window sill, the tips of his feathers brushing against the floor. "My life is over. Why? Just why did it have to be me...? I, the great last phoenix of the Harpirian Tribe?"

What a pompous bird! I thought he was going to be nice, but I take it back! Irene then stepped closer to the phoenix, who blinked as she suddenly approached. "What do you want— OW OW OW!! NOT THE TAIL FEATHERS!!"

"Oh what? Sorry, can't hear you over your narcissistic self-praise." Irene smirked snidely as she tugged the large bird by its elegant white feathers, causing it to struggle out of her grasp.

"You!! You little!— I'll have you know, I'm a powerful bird who could end you if I wanted!" He squawked frantically, flapping those large white wings in attempt to get away.

With a sigh, Irene released the bird, who darted to the other side of the room and was now cowering in the corner. "Y-You barbaric child!"

"You said that you're powerful, right?" Irene then asked, her expression turning serious. His beady eyes blinked at her in confusion, realising that something about her was rather odd.

The girl wasn't looking at him with the gaze of a curious child. But rather - the reticent eyes of someone who was seeking help. Irene slowly hoisted herself onto her bed, gazing at the bird with golden eyes that appeared to glow under the silver moonlight.

"I didn't summon you randomly, on a whim," she told the phoenix. "I brought you here because I need your strength." For a moment, the bird struggled to comprehend what Irene was telling him.