-- Lilith POV, Skyview Monastery --

  She had washed potatoes and was peeling them now. Holding a knife with her clawed hands was a bit awkward, but potatoes were good in the stew that they usually cooked. A pleasant alternative to wheat or barley, which were frequently used as a base ingredient too. If they had meat, she definitely would prefer potatoes with the meat, but in a vegetable stew either was good.

  The monastery kitchen was a fairly large room. Large enough to prepare a meal for sixty people. Like most rooms in the monastery the stone walls were bare and the furniture simple and practical. Sturdy wooden tables and benches, massive ceramic sinks, the occasional wooden trough and bucket in between.

  Frequently used cooking tools were kept hanging from wooden rods above the tables, so they were easy to grab while working, no need to walk somewhere to fetch them.

  Right now the kitchen was filled with voices, the sounds of knives hitting cutting boards and the occasional clink of metal on ceramics. About ten brothers worked in the kitchen with her today, but she knew only brother Sam and brother Otto by name. A few of the others by sight.

  She had been working in the kitchen before, right the next day after she arrived, to help with washing the dishes. Today though was the first time she had been assigned to help preparing the midday meal. The past hour or so she had been washing and cutting vegetables and herbs for the stew they were preparing. The pile of undone vegetables was shrinking, the bowls with diced vegetables and cut herbs filled more and more. Greens that were not suitable for consumption filled the buckets to be carried to the compost pile later.

  They were almost done when someone lit the fire under the big cauldron for the stew. Her ears had immediately noticed the sound when the kindling caught fire, now she could smell it too. It was dry wood, which produced a very fine smoke and a light note of combusting resin.

  Fire. There was fire! She had to see the fire. Slowly, carefully, she put the knife down on the table and turned around to look at the fire.

  The flames were spreading from where the kindling had been ignited, jumping from branch to branch till there was a ring of fire under the cauldron. An enclosure made of stones kept the fire in the place. The enclosure was not very high, maybe a span tall.

  She watched with amazement. The fire looked almost like it was alive. Dancing flames, glowing, shining, ever changing, never resting. Ethereal glowing life, joyfully feeding on the wood provided, happily munching away with crackling noises.

  Brother Otto who had started the fire now brought bigger logs, arranged them under the cauldron, and they soon caught fire too. Once he was satisfied with the arrangement, he left towards one of the working tables.

  She couldn't look away from the fire. It was so happy. So full of joy.

  Hesitantly first, then quicker she walked over to the cauldron to watch the fire more closely. The branches were burning brightly now and the flames had begun to feed on the bigger logs, which were resisting still, charring in light protest, not willing yet to feed the flames. But soon they would. They just needed a little time, encouragement.

  She smiled at the sight, squatted down and held her alabaster white hands with the night black claws into the fire. The sleeves of her robe began to smoke, and then caught fire too. She didn't mind.

  It was good fire.

  No one was working anymore, everyone was staring at her. But in her small world there was now only the happy fire and herself.

  And the cauldron. Which was in the way.

  She got up and decidedly lifted the cauldron off the fire, placed it just outside the stone enclosure and stepped into the flames.

  This was good.

  Her robe caught fire but she didn't care. This was a good fire. Pleasant fire. The flames didn't reach all up on her though, so she sat down on the logs. A shower of sparks rose from them, pretty little embers, sadly gone all too soon again. But now flames were all around her.

  This was better.

  She laid down and curled up on the burning logs, all engulfed in flame.

  This was ... the monks would have called it heaven.

  She closed her eyes. Fire. Flames. And herself. Her world was complete.

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  Shouts arose, which she didn't hear. Then someone splashed water over her.

  Her fire! They were killing her fire. A moment she felt the urge to fight, to defend the fire. No one touch her fire! But the same moment she remembered her sanctuary. The monks. She must not hurt them.

  She cried out and clutched her legs more tightly. She could not protect her fire.

  Another thought. 'Wait. Do nothing.' This was easy. Doing nothing was always easy. But her fire. She didn't want to lose the fire. But fighting was wrong. She might hurt someone. She didn't want to hurt any of them. Indecision froze her in place. Doing nothing was safe, right?

  But there was no mercy. People splashed more water. She was sobbing, trying to curl up so tightly that her knees touched her face, arms clutched around. Then someone threw a blanket over her and the fire, and the last few flames suffocated.

  She didn't move. There were footsteps around her, subdued voices. Then a more clear voice, "She is under the blanket. I think she is crying."

  Someone lifted the blanket about where her head was. She heard superior Martins voice. She kept her eyes closed.

  "Lilith, are you hurt?"

  "My fire is gone." She said quietly without opening her eyes.

  "Lilith are you alright?"

  "They killed my fire." There was the faintest hint of accusation in her voice, and a lot of sadness.

  Then another voice. Was that brother Otto speaking? "I think she is under shock."

  She felt hands which pressed the blanket against her body, then an attempt to lift her up.

  "Lilith", it was superior Martins again, "Can you stand?"

  She nodded lightly, and allowed them to help her stand up. They made sure she was tightly wrapped into the blanket. She just held it.

  "Lilith, I'll bring you to your cell. Can you walk?"

  How was that important now. Her fire was gone. "I think I can walk."

  She felt urged into a certain direction, opened her eyes to see the ground so she wouldn't trip over something and just let superior Martins lead her. She kept her eyes directed to the floor just ahead of her, the clip clop of her hooves less pronounced than usual. Stone, smoothed, sometimes almost polished from countless feet that had walked this floor before her. One sort of stone replaced by another as they moved further. Step for step she walked.

  A door came into her sight and they stopped for a moment. Superior Martins opened it and directed her inside with a firm, but not outright unfriendly shove, led her towards her mattress and she felt a pressure on her shoulder which she took as indication to sit down there.

  "What were you thinking?" The concern was gone. Now his voice sounded angry.

  She didn't look up, "I liked the fire. Now it's gone."

  "That's not what I was asking." His voice was unwavering, "Lilith what were you thinking? Everyone assumed you were trying to kill yourself. Out of desperation ... or for whatever reason."

  "The fire felt good."

  She heard him taking a breath.

  "Lilith, your robe caught fire and everyone saw you there as the burning rags dropped from you." There was a different tone in his voice this time. Not so angry, but sharp like a knife.

  "I don't mind." She said quite softly, just looking at the floor right before her.

  Really. That was her least concern right now.

  "But they do." His voice sounded even sharper now, accusing. His arm seemed to point towards where she knew the door of her cell was.

  So, now they tried to make their problem her problem again. She really didn't like that strategy.

  "I want a new fire."

  None of them spoke for a while.

  "I'd even give you a fire, now that I know how much you like it. But fire wood must be carried up all the stairs. We don't have fire wood to spare."

  The stairs. She remembered them. Endless, steep and narrow stairs winding around the spire, up and up. Yes, she could understand that. No one would like to carry firewood up those stairs. Particularly not if they had to carry it but someone else would reap the benefits.

  And they would not let her leave the monastery to help carrying.

  It dawned on her and it was the first time she looked up at him since he had brought her to her cell, "No fire?"

  "Not for the next time. Actually I think it is better you stay away from fire. Just to prevent further disruptions. I'll try to make sure that you aren't assigned labor where there is fire involved." His voice was serious but had lost the cutting edge.

  No fire. Time passed while none of them said anything.

  Eventually superior Martins stood up, "Lilith, get yourself cleaned. You are all sooty. Make sure you are presentable so you can join us as usual at 12 bells for the prayer and midday meal. And I want you to apologize to the brothers who worked in the kitchen today. You shocked them all. Knowing you are a demon is one thing. Seeing you step into a fire to lay down on the embers is another."

  Now she had to sigh. "Yes, superior Martins."

  He relaxed his posture some, "You know, we've been through this before. Please, just try to be normal. Do normal things. The brothers had just gotten over how you hunted the trespasser. Now you literally stepped into fire because you think it's fun. Please. Have mercy with my nerves and be normal."

  She nodded lightly, "It's not easy superior Martins."

  "At least try." He gave her another stern look and left her cell.