Queen of Wands You can live in harmony with the world around you without losing harmony in your own soul. The meaning of the symbol-image of the card We have the opportunity to see the tattoo that the woman on the card shows us. The tattoo is hidden under long hair and is accessible

1. Fire (Fire) Key words, meanings: passion, desire for sexual pleasure, lust, feelings prevail over reason. The cause of the event is the very nature of man, the sexuality of both one and the other participant in the event. But it is important to understand that for now (or at all) this

2. Fire (Fire) Key words, meanings: defiant behavior, vibrant sexuality, demonstrative behavior, sexual blackmail. The cause of the event lies in two components. The first component is social hypocrisy, within which almost everyone finds themselves

3. Fire (Fire) Key words, meanings: emotional or moral pressure, soft blackmail, unbridled expression of feelings, strong attraction. The cause of the event is a person’s desire and the presence of an object of this desire. Everything coincided and nothing prevents you from doing what was done so long ago

4. Fire (Fire) Key words, meanings: secret relationships, hidden feelings, what is hidden from prying eyes, use or manipulation. The cause of the event lies in the life of one or both partners. They don't want or can't advertise what's going on between them.

5. Fire (Fire) Key words, meanings: passion, uncontrollability, depravity, love. The cause of the event takes its origins in 1 fire. But in this case, a person has everything and even more to realize his aspirations. Frameworks, restrictions, moral qualifications are not all about

6. Fire (Fire) Key words, meanings: idleness, boredom, easy hobby, entertainment, superficial relationships. The reason for the event is this: on the one hand, a person does not need anything, but on the other hand, he wants something. Have fun, spend time, maybe sleep. Just like that, without

7. Fire (Fire) Key words, meanings: victim of one’s own behavior (weaknesses, vices, mistakes), overwork, illness, lack of strength, inability to cope with reality. The cause of the event lies in the person himself, in his inability and unwillingness to measure his own

8. Fire (Fire) Key words, meanings: illusions, dreams, fantasies, detachment, immersion in an artificially created world. Cause of the event. There are two of them, but each of them has points of intersection with each other. The first dissatisfaction with reality. The second impossibility of obtaining

9. Fire (Fire) Key words, meanings: curiosity, interest, flirting, experiment, search for something new, frivolity of an act, untimeliness. The reason for the event is the opportunity to learn something new, try what is in this moment time you can try. No need to search

10. FIRE (FIRE) Key words, meanings: physical or moral violence, internal protest, physical or moral pressure, bullying. The cause of the event does not have an exact explanation, since it is impossible to explain the reason why one person bullies another

Page of Fire Key words, meanings: fatigue, overwork, irritation, dissatisfaction through the prism of fatigue. The cause of the event is overwork or lack of rest. Both of these reasons underlie the human condition. Under no circumstances should one seriously evaluate how

Knight of Fire (Fire) Key words, meanings: active development of events, movement, the need to be active, trip, purposeful action. The cause of the event is not such an important fact in this particular case. This situation is determined not by the cause, but by

King of Fire (Fire) Key words, meanings: the card is personal and describes a specific person, strong, active, purposeful, ready to take everything into his own hands, independent. In fact, the King of Fire is the male image of the Queen of Fire. The cause of the event is the man himself. He's from

A lonely wasteland that is needed only by the scarlet sun hanging at the head of thin red clouds. Ash slowly descends from the sky, falling down and creating a solid mountain of smoldering fragments of someone's life from the ground. Along with the ashes, brilliant bright sparks swirl in the air, as if they had escaped from the flames, leaving him alone. A light cool wind gently ruffles and picks up the burnt scraps of paper covering the ground.

The cycle repeated
The cycle repeated
As explosions broke in the sky
When explosions thundered across the skies.
All that I needed
I only needed one thing -
Was the one thing I couldn't find
Just what I was unable to find.

Something thundered in the sky. It’s so dull and suppressed, like a groan, but it’s not a thunderstorm. Hot air presses on your lungs, burns your throat, ash and burnt paper under your feet make you drown and fall into them, while creating a mysterious and quiet rustle. The decay hovering above the ground forces you to constantly brush it off like a mosquito, and scarlet sparks every now and then fall on the skin, leaving barely noticeable burns on it. Yes, the air is cold, but only for the skin; when it gets inside, it warms up and spreads like a wave throughout the body. But the sun, on the contrary, is simply icy. I don't feel his warmth. In general, where am I?..

Mark walked slowly through the vacant lot, looking back every now and then, even though there was nothing to look at. But his attention was attracted by rare bushes, which, as soon as he approached, immediately dried up. The ashes and paper underfoot seemed to make a louder noise than Lyakhtich’s even breathing. And it seemed that the guy was going nowhere, because only flocks of scarlet clouds were visible on the crimson horizon. Nothing else.

Maybe I'm dreaming? Yes, I'm dreaming, because this simply cannot happen. Yes, it’s strange to hear this from a watchmaker living on another planet, but what’s happening here still defies any explanation. What kind of place is this? It looks like Hell, but somehow too calm. I'm sure this is a normal dream. But what is all this for? Why here? Do I need something here?.. Yes, I do. I need a place where I can think things through. Namely, Marishka’s betrayal. No, no, she didn’t return to the list of Dragotius’ fans, she just deceived me. Maybe this won’t seem like deception to you, but still... I can’t stand lies. I became your toy without realizing it. But you always turn people into toys. So I got caught. You blatantly lied to me that you loved me, but in fact you just played with me, so to speak, with a “temporary doll” until you found someone else. Whom? I don't know myself. And I don’t want to know, let the guy live, he’s better off. But here's the thing - you don't know how much it hurts me. What a huge hole you have burned in your heart with your thin hands. So that's why I'm here... This place is the space of my heart, almost burned to the ground.

Mark, raking away the charred pieces of paper with his feet, continued to step forward, not paying attention to the gray ash that was slowly covering his hair, and the sparks that turned his half-open hands into a scattering of small burns. His white shirt gradually turned gray, and the same sparks even managed to leave small marks on his black pants in the form of small areas of burnt fabric. Black eyes, as always, filled with hatred. There is no other way. He always hates someone. Now - to Reznikov. But more than himself, because he allowed her to manipulate him. Lost in thought, the guy didn’t notice how he approached the cliff. But it was not just a cliff. The land ended here. At all. There is no opposite shore. Lyakhtich looked down with interest: the bright flame was raging like a beast, licking the earth and its entire internal rocky terrain with its tongue. There was an unimaginable heat coming from there, because the guy’s pale face instantly turned pink, especially his cheeks. He turned around. Nothing. Still the same wasteland. For about five minutes he simply stood in place, admiring the dance of fire from afar. But suddenly he widened his eyes: the flame instantly turned blue and stopped emitting exorbitant heat, on the contrary, it began to smell cold. Figuring that there were no other options, he gathered his courage and, taking a deep breath, jumped off the cliff.

What the... Where am I? Some kind of dungeon... Ah, I understand, like a secret passage. It’s somehow damp here, there’s even mold and moss on the walls. Nasty. Reminds me of the Zmiulan dungeons, by God. I hope it's not them. And it’s as dark as a coffin. You need to light the light on the arrow. Well, another thing, now at least you can see yourself. And where now? It feels like there is no way out, only impenetrable darkness. But why am I breaking down?

Finding his foot on the stone floor, Mark began to move again. The click of the heels of his boots echoed down the corridor, reminiscent of a certain grinding sound that was a little irritating to the ear. The light at the end of the arrow dimly illuminated the space around him, so gloomy. Heat suddenly wafted from the ceiling. Lyakhtich raised his head, and his face stretched out in surprise: the ceiling was burning.

What kind of idiocy? This is against all the laws of physics! How can fire burn upside down? Well, I have dreams, of course. But it’s beautiful, it even warms you up. Stop... This is how the stone burns! This is even stranger. Well, okay, I won’t waste time on surprise, apparently, a lot more like this awaits me ahead. Although this is even good, at least some kind of outlet.

Unable to resist, the guy carefully stood up and slowly raised his hand to the fire. And imagine his surprise when he managed to grab a piece of flame. It was material. Lyakhtich lowered his hand in shock, continuing to hold the clot in it. The fire still burned, but did not burn at all. Deciding to use it as a light source, Mark slowly walked further so that the sharp air currents would not extinguish the flame.

With each step he took, the oncoming winds intensified. At first they were barely noticeable, but became more and more noticeable. The flame went out. Only a handful of ashes remained in his hand. And just as he wanted to blow it away, he suddenly froze, seeing a huge carved wooden door with an iron lock emitting a faint white glow. The guy slowly walked up to the door and took a closer look at the lock: it was so huge that you could stick your finger through the hole. Squinting, Mark saw small pieces of damp ash inside the well. That means someone has already come here. And with the help of others. Having cleared his head, Lyakhtich sat down, stretched out his hand in front of him and carefully blew on the ashes that covered his palm in a handful. In the next second, something completely incredible happened: the ash flew into the air and, swirling like a whirlwind, flew straight into the hole. The castle suddenly lit up brightly, forcing the guy to cover his face with his hand, and fell to the floor with a crash. After standing still for a while, he cautiously touched the door handle and opened it.

Mark entered and gasped: he found himself in a room reminiscent of a palace corridor. Moreover, everything here was made of crystal. Everything. The transparent stone shone brightly from the light of a huge chandelier, somehow hanging on to the ceiling. Lyakhtich took a step and was immediately dumbfounded: all the crystal lit up with a scarlet flame. The fire engulfed gem, but didn't break it. It looked like a room from a fairy tale. And incredibly beautiful. Even his eyes lit up, but not for long. In the thick of the flames, a blurry silhouette began to be visible, fearlessly making its way through the elements. With every second it became clearer, and when it appeared completely, the guy’s jaw almost dropped.

“I’m glad you came,” Marishka sang subtly, twirling a golden lock of hair around her ring-covered finger.

“I’m so glad,” Mark retorted caustically, frowning slightly, but looking at Reznikova with some admiration. She was now wearing a black latex suit. Her thin waist is wrapped with a red belt, and on her feet are high boots. - What kind of outfit is this? - he tried to put maximum ridicule into this phrase.

What don't you like? - the girl answered the question with a question, a little offended.

“Usually you’re more refined,” he noted boringly, “by the way, what did you forget in my dream?” - Mark immediately added.

Ha ha! - Marishka laughed unusually rudely. - Who said that this is your dream? - from such a question, Lyakhtich’s eyebrows shot up, as is usually the case with Nick. “And there’s no need to play Lazarev,” Reznikova didn’t miss the chance to mock him, “why did you come?”

“So, I’m walking through a vacant lot, not touching anyone, when suddenly I see a cliff, well, of course, I don’t jump into it, I jump into it, then I walk through the dungeon for half an hour, and then I end up here,” Mark jabbered.

Fool,” she babbled affectionately, “you didn’t understand the question,” she instantly changed her tone from sweet to firm, “why did you come?” Or should I repeat it syllable by syllable?

I don’t want to strain your brain so much, so I’ll make do,” the guy retorted, grinning, noticing how the girl’s scarlet lips pressed into one line. “No, I understand the question,” he immediately became serious, “I was just walking, but since everything is like this... I want to ask something,” he narrowed his eyes into slits, “who is he?”

Who are you talking about? - Marishka was a little confused.

About who you traded me for, you’re a pest,” Lyakhtich growled dully, starting to walk in her direction.

“I don’t understand you,” Reznikova tried to justify herself, taking small steps back, almost plunging into the flames that were still engulfing the room.

Creature! - Mark just swung his hand to give her a hard slap in the face, when suddenly the girl, with a frightened squeak, turned around and rushed further along the corridor, hiding in the flames. - You're not going anywhere! I'll blow all your crystal grabbers to hell! - the guy shouted after her, without taking his eyes off the fire, but literally a split second later he confidently entered it and, realizing that it was not dangerous, he ran as fast as he could in the same direction.

You told me yes you held me high
You told me yes, you gave me bliss
And I believed when you told that lie
And I believed when you lied to me.
I played that soldier you played king
I played the role of a soldier, you played the role of a king,
And struck me down when I kissed that ring
And you struck me when I kissed your ring.

You lost that right to hold that crown
You've lost the right to wear the crown
I built you up but you let me down
I elevated you, but you failed my expectations.
So when you fall I'll take my turn
So when you fall, it'll be my turn
And fan the flames as your blazes burn
Fan the flames in which you burn...

You can't get away from me anywhere. I'll catch up and finish you on the spot. There is no place in the world for people like you. I'm not a gift either, but at least I don't stoop so low. And I don't care if you're the queen of this damn fire. You have lost the right to wear the crown. You will fall, and when this happens, I will only fan the flames in which you burn even more...

He rushed non-stop along the crystal corridor, engulfed in a scarlet sparkling flame. Sometimes pieces of crystal broke off from the walls and fell onto the floor, which is why the guy had to jump over them, but Mark continued to run and did not care what would happen next, the main thing was what was happening now. The heat of the fire only made it difficult to move, tormenting Lyakhtich, the slightly slippery crystal would sometimes slip away from under his feet. The blood rolled up to his temples, his breathing was labored, his whole body was covered with sticky sweat, ash still covered his hair, and the burns on his hands stung disgustingly due to the heat, but nothing and no one would stop this man. Never.

And you were there at the turn
You were at that turn
Caught in the burning glow
Enveloped in a blazing radiance.
And I was there at the turn
And I was at that turn...

And here’s another turn, he doesn’t remember how many of them there have already been, he didn’t count, and he didn’t even get to that. This very turn turned out to be not a turn at all, but an exit to the street. Turning the corner, Mark braked sharply and almost opened his mouth in amazement: a garden. A special garden. Everything in it burns, but does not burn out. The earth is once again covered in ash, scarlet sparks descend from the crimson sky, and all the trees are consumed by flames. As if having woken up, the guy took off and rushed like a bullet into the depths of the garden, throwing up gray ashes under him. He ran nonstop, as if afraid to stop. Hot tree branches lashed his face every now and then, leaving burns and scratches on his clean skin, and the burning papers rustled again under his feet, making movement difficult. Mark kept moving, no matter what.

Having parted the branches of the burning tree, the guy saw something that amazed him madly: there was an area on the ground covered not with ash, but with crystal, also burning. And this island was surrounded by tall columns of pink marble, behind which She was hiding. Enveloped in a blazing glow. Mariska was burning. But it didn't burn. Like the trees in this garden. Her entire body was devoured by a greedy fire, and her blond hair stood on end and hung freely in the air, covered with pieces of ash.

Where are you! - Mark roared, recovering from shock, quickly walking towards her.

Lyakhtich, stopping near the flaming Reznikova, froze again. She did not run away, but continued to burn. This shocked the guy again.

We're building it up
We create
To break it back down
To destroy everything again.
We're building it up
We are building
To burn it down
To burn everything down.
We can't wait
We can't wait,
To burn it to the ground
To burn and level everything to the ground...

- Don’t you still understand? - the girl suddenly spoke, causing him to twitch, “we create in order to destroy,” she continued, absorbing the flames into herself and sinking to the ground, taking on her previous appearance. “So let’s destroy together,” Mariska added more tenderly, taking a step towards Mark and carefully touching his scratched cheek with her hand.

He removed her hand from his face with a sharp movement and hissed menacingly:

You see, my dear, now there is no “we”, there is only “me” and “you”, and I have completely different plans.

And what are they, I wonder? You wanted power so much, you are obsessed with it! - Reznikova suddenly exclaimed.

It’s not for you to teach me how to live,” Mark bared his teeth, “although...” he suddenly beamed. “If that’s what you want...” he, receiving the girl’s amazed glances, came closer to her, put his arm around her waist and gently kissed her.

She, without hesitation, responded to his kiss, to which Lyakhtich smiled contentedly, imperceptibly summoning an arrow.

This is for treason! - the guy suddenly yelled, plunging an arrow straight into her heart.

She screamed deafeningly loudly and staggered, taking a step back. On the left side under her chest there was now a hole, the inside covered with damp ash.

“I knew you had an icy heart,” Mark looked at the piece of ice blazing with a blue flame and strung on the arrowhead. “And I want to break it,” he said confidently, casually removing it from his weapon.

The heart was pulsating, beating, but felt cold, like the blue flame that engulfed it.

Please, don’t... - Reznikova croaked with tears in her eyes.

You should have thought before! - Mark cried, squeezing the heart in his hand. It immediately cracked, and the guy screamed and, unclenching his hand, saw his palm, which had small fragments embedded in it.

Startled, the girl threw back her head and covered Blue eyes, from which hot tears flowed. Her body caught fire again, but gradually turned to ash. At first it was covered with burns, then holes appeared in it, and then it simply disappeared. Lyakhtich screamed again, because the fragments flew out of his skin on their own and, forming a small heart, landed near the pile of ashes that remained from it.

Squinting in pain, he carefully picked up this heart from the ground and examined it. “A simple slurry,” flashed through his head, after which the thing immediately flew to the side, drowning in ash.

So what now? So what's now? I’m not going to be stuck in this hole forever, even if it’s a very beautiful one. Crap. Idiot cuts. There's nothing even to stop the bleeding. Phew, I better wake up soon, otherwise I can throw my skates away here. They told you, Reznikova, you won’t be satisfied with deception, but you denied it. So I finished the game. True, this is just a dream, but what a dream. But this is not enough for me. Your reality will be no different from this, I promise.

He was distracted from his thoughts by a menacing roar that sounded somewhere very close. Mark turned around sharply and froze like a stone: fifty meters from him, a huge red dragon stood proudly, whose tail, oddly enough, was burning with a scarlet flame, and so were its wings. The creature was covered in shiny red scales, sparkling in the light of the fire. The guy’s eyes even lit up. He, without taking his eyes off the beast, began to carefully walk towards it, not paying attention to the ashes falling right on his face. The dragon began to breathe loudly as soon as Lyakhtich stopped ten meters from him.

Hah, North would definitely run away right away,” Mark said sarcastically, fearlessly taking another step. “I think that you will be useful to me,” summoning his wings, he deftly took off and sat on the back of the beast, which immediately began to roar like a lion. Shaking the ashes from his wings, the guy grabbed the growths on the dragon’s body with his hands and patted his side with his foot. Despite the fact that it was not a small horse, but a huge creature, Mark’s plan was a success: the beast, roaring loudly, took off.

The colors conflicted
The colors contrasted with each other
As the flames climbed into the clouds
When the flames rose to the clouds.
I wanted to fix this
I wish I could make it right
But couldnʼt stop from tearing it down
But he couldn’t resist tearing everything to hell.

The Crystal Palace gradually collapsed. Its transparent walls fell off in pieces, falling into heaps, and the dragon happily set it all on fire, circling above the ground. Streams of flame flying from his mouth engulfed the stones, causing them to burn, and that garden turned into a cemetery of ashes. There was a beautiful palace - all that remains is a ruined hut. It’s the same with people: as long as you don’t threaten them with fire, everyone will be clean and transparent, like crystal.

The dragon and its rider left the broken Paradise behind and flew across the very wasteland from which the journey began. The crimson sky is still holding a conversation with the sun, the fickle wind continues to deceive everyone, and ashes and sparks are still swirling over the ground, covered with a blanket of burnt paper. Everything is monotonous. This is our world: until you intervene, nothing will change...

“Yes, it was just a dream, but remember: when I wake up, I will do everything the same, and I don’t care what you want, I will only do what I want. Remember this."

Not much is known about her early life. Jo was born in Italy, around 1780's. She most likely began practicing the art of fire-eating quite early, but her name first became famous around 1810. In England, Jo amazed audiences with her extraordinary talents. People came from all over the country to see the famous Ghirardelli.

Usually her performance was divided into two parts. First, she took a sip of acid and rinsed her mouth with it. To prove that it was not just water or vinegar, Jo took a piece of iron and spat acid on it, which burned through the metal.

Then, to prove that no fire could harm her, she took a small vessel of boiling oil and, to prove that the liquid was indeed very hot, threw an egg into it in front of the spectators. After the egg was cooked, Jo took the boiling oil into her mouth and held it in her mouth for a few seconds. When she spat it on the fire, a flame burst into flames.

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Her next trick was even more amazing. She would put melted sealing wax in her mouth and then call someone from the crowd to make an impression on the sealing wax while it was still on her tongue. And although the volunteer was very close to Jo and she did this trick many times, no one ever discovered any trick.

She later switched to molten lead. Jo would scoop it up with her hand and put it in her mouth, then spit out pieces the size of coins. So she showed the audience that not only her mouth was resistant to the influence of fire. She heated a metal ladle white-hot and pressed it against her hair and hands, but not a single trace of burns appeared on her skin. At the end of her performance, Jo would touch the hot metal with her tongue so that the audience could hear the hissing sound that the metal made. But no one heard the smell of burning flesh or hair.

Joe's fame preceded her. Everyone wanted to know her secret, rumors spread that she was using a “secret composition,” but British scientists shrugged their shoulders - not a single protective liquid could protect against such intense heat.

Skeptics tried unsuccessfully to find out what the secret of invulnerable Jo was, and she just laughed in their faces. “I can take a leg of lamb and go into the oven with it!” - Jo boasted. However, without ever proving this talent.

She was probably really capable of enduring very high temperatures. The question of how she managed this remains open.

There is no evidence of her further life outside England. Perhaps Jo had earned enough to buy a small house somewhere quiet where she wouldn't be disturbed.