This Brocade is by Hanah and used the words Acceptance and Shame.
Tristen looked on at what had once been his home. The beloved monastery had been a sanctum when the rest of the world had rejected him for his hermit lifestyle.
The brothers had understood. They had felt that the earth God had given them could be appreciated best in its quiet cultivation. The slow, sturdy weight of the soil churning in his hands hand felt remedial after the long tedious years in the city. He glanced across the river at the ruins of his fine sanctuary. They were all gone. The brothers in their stoicism. The gardens with their tranquility. They had been his to relish, to reside in this haven if solitude. Now the blackened walls taunted his memories tarnishing them like the fire had tarnished his room.
He was alone at his desk, going over his script translations. It had been an arduous day in the fields. His limbs ached as he wrote and rewrote the verses of some archaic transcript that was his duty to revise. The candle near him, coruscated while wax lazed down onto his desk. The words started to blur together. He shook himself and started another line; Adversus incendia excubias nocturnas vigilesque commentus est. It was a quote from the histories of Caesar Augustus. His mind stalled, he resituated himself in his chair and changed transcripts to clear his mind. He read; Abyssus abyssum invocat, his head drooped.
Heat, burning, searing, scorching heat. He jerked awake. All around him was a sea of flame. He heard distant screams, crashes of support beams falling to the floor, destroying as the came. Terror clouded his understanding.
An explosion to the right made him duck and cover. The window had burst from the heat, increasing the flames inside. With out thinking he thrust himself towards the now gaping hole. His robe on fire, screaming in pain he fell to the ground ten feet below and rolled to the beckoning riverside.