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.

It was after hearing those words, however - that he stood upright, and pushed aside its previously dramatic side. It seemed that this girl wasn't simply playing around, no matter how young she was.

"You want my strength, but for what?" The phoenix asked, his demeanour now as steely and composed as Irene's resolve. "No matter how much I think about it, I can't understand why a child would summon a spirit animal— or rather, how you even knew about it in the first place."

"That's not what's important, Mr Bird," she told him, sighing. "Either way, now that I've summoned you, you can't go back. So please..." She stood up from her bed, and walked toward the phoenix again.

With her hands clenched tightly at her sides, her golden eyes fixated on him pleadingly.

"Please help me protect my family and the people I care for. Act as another pair of eyes, my wings and my second half," She told him, her eyes beseeching his help. "It won't make sense right now, but... I need you on my side."

The phoenix observed the girl clinically, wordlessly staring into those wide, round eyes which shone like pools of melted gold. Albeit young, something about this girl was different - in a way he believed he wouldn't be able to comprehend until he actually got to know her.

It was then, Irene heard the bird sigh. "It's not like I have a choice, do I?" He sulked. The two remained silent for a long moment, before he finally caved in. "Fine! I'll do it! But I have one condition, Little Sprout."

Irene gazed at him in surprise, expecting him to be more difficult to reason with. But upon hearing those words, she smiled. "And what will that be?"

The phoenix lifted its majestic white wings, flapping them gracefully to fly up into the air. Irene followed its luminous body with her eyes, as it perched right on top of her head.

"I want you to give me a name." He told her. Irene paused for a moment, raising her eyebrow in confusion, as the phoenix curled its long neck, downwards to face her directly.

"A name? You haven't already got one?" She asked. This was a rather unusual request. In the original novel, Isabella's spirit already had a name.

"I don't have one," the phoenix said forwardly. Irene's eyes widened in surprise, having not expected this to be the case. "You see, this is my first time being summoned as a spirit animal for someone. Most other beasts received a name and have lived with many owners already, but I'm the only one who hasn't." The phoenix began to explain.

"We beasts receive a portion of our master's power upon receiving our first names, and that's why I'd like one," he told Irene, sighing softly. "It looks like I'll be stuck with you for a long time, Little Sprout. So please name me something worth while."

I see... That makes sense, actually. Irene thought to herself, lifting a hand to her chin in thought. Something like that... I never came up with it while writing this story. But it makes sense. It means the bond I have with this spirit will be a lot stronger than I thought, if he's going to be sharing in my mana.

"Alright then, I'll give you a name," she told the bird, with a smile. "Does this mean you'll accept me as your master? You won't go complaining about me again, right?"

"I swore my loyalty to you the moment I accepted your call, I'm afraid," he sighed, broodingly. "But yes, I'll stop. I'll do what you want, just please don't pull my feathers again." He wailed.

"Alright then." Irene giggled, as the phoenix flew off her head, and perched onto her windowsill again. As she raised her hand to her face in deep thought, the white-haired girl considered a name for her new companion with much deliberation. He stood there, watching her in anticipation, praying the name wouldn't be something ridiculous like "Trash" or "Captain Squawks."

"I've thought of something," Irene smiled, gazing at the bird's beautiful white feathers. They reminded her of a clean, white winters day. "Your name will be 'Snow.'"

...Snow... The phoenix closed his eyes. It's actually a nice name. Snow...

It was then, that all of a sudden, the bird became encased by what appeared to be, whirls of golden magical energy that illuminated the room. Irene gazed at him in wonder, as his whole body lit up with a blinding glow.

Soon, the magic dissipated, as Snow returned to his regular form. He opened his eyes, facing Irene with an indecipherable expression. At least, if birds even had expressions.

"I've accepted you as my master. A portion of your inner mana has transported to me with my new name," he told her, and Irene could tell he was smiling. As his gaze became one that was now friendlier than before, Irene felt at ease. "Little Sprout, I look forward to our-"

"Alright, since that's over, I'm going to bed now." Irene yawned, rubbing her eyes as she trudged over to her bed, leaving the bird dumbfounded.

"Hey! I'm trying to be nice here!" He protested, but Irene only responded with indifference.

"And I'm trying to sleep. I'm still a growing sprout, who needs her sleep. You took up too much energy," she sighed softly, lifting the bedcovers over her little body.

"Anyways, goodnight Snow! Glad to be working with you." She exclaimed in a rather sarcastic tone, before turning over in her bed and drifting off to sleep - leaving the completely bewildered bird to sit alone in her room.

It looks like this little mistress of mine is going to be a handful. He sighed to himself, before flapping his wings and hoisting himself onto her bed frame. Snow neatly folded his feathers against his slim body, gazing down at the sleeping little girl before him.

But at the same time... He frowned, dipping his head as his gold-tinted beak leaned downwards. This girl... She has a very unusually large amount of mana locked within her. In fact, it's so vast...

...It may become dangerous for her body to handle, when her powers awaken.