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I see two fires in the imaginal field. One is black and red where control and power press souls into few heavy armored men while many others shriek, wail, and moan. All of them are confined and claustrophobic in some way. Many inhuman forms perform hideous tasks, tearing souls to pieces and reassembling them. The other fire burns gold and blue. A large man laughs a big belly laugh and others play joyfully. There is a blue light where my beloved shines. I don't know her name, but I miss her. It is promised that wherever I am so shall she be. Sometimes when I am pressed in the heavy place she is witchy, magic, and weird. I have also heard her screaming in the shadowy fire. I have vowed to incarnate with her where we will both live the lives of saints.