Enola once again dreamed of Ceylon that day.
Steam and flames were all around. Metal deformed under the scorching heat. Floorboards fell one by one, crashing to the ground and shattering.
The girl was buried in a narrow space beneath the ruins. The hot wind carried thick smoke and dust, choking her so much she could barely breathe.
She kicked futilely at the hot, cracked walls, trying to find a way out before the oxygen in the enclosed space ran out. But the narrow terrain offered no leverage, and besides, she was just an underage girl.
I'm going to die.
Just as this thought surfaced in Enola's mind, she heard the faint whimper of a small animal carried on the wind.
With a ROAR, the wall collapsed. The blizzard hammered Enola's face, along with the snowy plains ferret's fluffy tail.
Enola watched the boy's indistinct silhouette in the black smoke and murmured softly, "Shiayar."
