After that, I dream of white fire.
In my vision, I stand in the Gray Sea of Purgatory, a stretch of charcoal-colored desert that ends in a wall of black stone. Silvery sand dunes ripple and swell around me. Overhead, the sky rolls with storm clouds; silent cracks of yellow lightning strike the horizon. A bitter wind whips through my long brown hair, stinging my cheeks. The scent of sulphur sears my lungs.
Without knowing why, I fall onto my knees and set my palms against the gray sand. A line of white fire erupts on the grains between my hands and then spreads into a giant circle. I stand again, watching the flames crackle by my toes. There is warmth from the fire, but no pain.
Inside the circle of fire, one spot in the sand starts to bubble and churn. A figure rises from that point: a
