$50 Shen Tisaidi

“Even as a child, Shen adored the great library of neverwinter.It was a place she went to often, her parents being poor and often working, it was a safe place, warm and out of the rain.
  Shen loved to read, though her mind worked slower than that of her siblings and the stories only truly unwound under her pointing finger after having to reread the words multiple times, reading aloud under her breath, but Shen would’ve loved the place even if the books were gone.It was the peace that all seemed to receive under the high marble ceilings and domed lights, with no exceptions or conditions.
 Even she, a being of fire, with embers glowing in her eyes and hair that smouldered in the dim lights of the library, was given a card, given the freedom to explore and find what she wanted, at her own pace and with no glances of fear.  Shen didn’t quite understand that.
 She’d never hurt anyone, had learned tight control over the heat inside her at a young age and so could not figure why when she walked in the street, others would give her a wide berth, tug their children tighter to them.
  She did not understand, but understood that it hurt her out there, amongst them.
  In the library, she was mostly ignored, and that was better. Though as she grew older, and especially during the winter months, she would find herself playing storyteller to children, who enjoyed her voices (and the residual heat her body gave off.)  When a sign appeared on the bulletin board near the great front desk, janitor wanted, Shen, whose few talents had never really pulled her in any direction after school, quickly snatched it down before others could read it.
  to be paid to be under the gaze of those statues!
 to be paid to walk the halls, keeping the beauty of it, being in charge of the building that had given her sanctuary for most of her life!
 it was more than she could imagine.
 There were downfalls of course. She’d never noticed the remnants left by patrons before, wrappers and newspapers and dreaded gum under the tables. such disrespect she could not imagine! she would grumble such things as she cleaned. Shen was a creature of few words but found her dislike of the patrons to be the main cause of them nowadays.  
 Of course there were kind people and the children who would tug at her uniform and beg for a chapter of a tale, just one! And the library itself was its own reward.  

But the little things began to get at her, her temperature would rise at a spilled drink on the fine carpets, her short hair rising in her temper. Her work days grew longer and they never seemed to consider hiring another custodian.
  And the whispers of the librarians, of how wise was it to have a fire elemental in a library of all places, an accident waiting to happen surely!  The great library was large but voices carried and It both infuriated and saddened Shen to hear those things. She vowed to dampen her temper from now on, the very idea that she could accidentally do such a thing was terrifying!  
  She’d had one close call when a librarian had taken her aside one day to complain at her ‘slipshod’ cleaning of the foyer. It had been a long and tough day for Shen, nowadays it seemed like she was doing the job of at least five and It had taken a few moments for her to pull back her irritation but she knew the man had seen the red rise in her eyes.  
 She dampened it and quickly apologised but was still sent home, to ‘cool off’. She slumped home, ashamed of both her actions and how she allowed herself to be treated in her sanctuary, a place that had once been her joy.

The great library burned to the ground that night.
Well, not exactly burned to the ground, but Shen read that the marble had turned black in the evening standard, all the books, all the knowledge gathered there gone, along with those precious memories of hers.  
 And her freedom.
A neighbour of hers, a fellow custodian but of the mayors offices, had warned her just in time, rushing to her door to tell her of the law keepers storming down the street. The librarian had put 2 and 2 together and pronounced the cause of the fire to be revenge of ‘that lazy fire genasi’, angered by a well placed complaint and decided that the only recourse was destruction.  
  Shen quickly thanked her neighbour, gathered her things and left. Her parents were dead, from over work, her siblings scattered and close to the same fate, from their letters. Shen had no one to say goodbye to, though her neighbour, a sweet firbolg had given her a kiss good luck.  
  She would need it, the firbolg said meaningfully.
It was on the back of a cart, quickly haggled for a ride out of never winter, that shen realised she hadn’t said goodbye to the library. and to her childhood.
 It was gone.
and as the evening standard, proclaiming the fire and its causes to the whole of the city, crumpled beneath her hands, smouldering at her touch, Shen promised she would do what she had to, what she must, to find out who took it from her.”