The magic feels... spiky, is maybe the best metaphor. There's a very slight tension in her joints. Up to her how she feels about it morally; the Rakshasa doesn't really react.

She is fairly sure that this is in fact a dream, or she would've been a lot more nervous about all those zombies. She has no moral opinions about tormenting imaginary demons.

Okay, what happens if she harms the demon a few more times and then heals herself a few times after that? Balance, hopefully?

Yep! She feels pretty much normal. If she leaves herself with too much of one feeling or another, they slowly subside over the next few seconds, as well.

The Rakshasa dies, and continues to hang there limply.

"The world shakes," the woman murmurs, looking at it. "The dead rise." Her attention shifts to Naomi. "You will be tested."

She vanishes again, and the gate next to her opens, this time into a proper graveyard, with a few rows of tombstones and two mausoleums on the far side.

"I would really appreciate a higher ratio of learning to cryptic nonsense," she says, and proceeds through the gate.

A couple steps in, the air goes weird again, and the voices both say, "You are cursed with free will." As before, the atmosphere returns to normal when they're done.

"I like to think of it as a blessing in disguise."

A few more meters in, a dry, scraping sound comes from her left.

Oh, is she about to be attacked by some sort of horrible creature?

It's more zombies. They're caked in dirt but seem no less intent on blunt force trauma.

Yoink!

One of them dies, or at least falls down and stops moving. Then the other two are on her. One swings at her with a loose fist; the other lunges, rotten teeth on full display.

Oh no how terrible. She yoinks the teeth one because that's grosser.

It falls on its face, but she doesn't have much time to appreciate the comedic effect: the other zombie's arm slams into the side of her head with a meaty smack.

Torment torment torment torment torment.

It falls gracelessly to the ground on top of the second zombie, which is struggling to get up.

Self-heal annnnd yoink?

They're all dead, or re-dead, if she likes.

The same dry scraping sound comes from behind her.

She is not sure she's learning the intended lesson here. She turns and administers friendly greetings to the new zombies.

They're not as friendly as she was, but that's okay, they're dead now.

The graveyard is quiet after that, but the patch of graves down the path looks suspiciously familiar.

Oh, do they perchance contain zombies, which she will have to kill?

They did, and now they don't. Something big climbs out of the earth on her other side. It's a taller zombie, maybe seven feet tall, clutching some kind of stick with a connecting bit on one end.

YOINK

This one doesn't fall over. It does pause for a few seconds, then shakes its head and roars at her.

That's a few seconds of valuable nasty-sigil-writing time!

It's still standing. Maybe size correlates with toughness somehow. It jerks its head down, trying to headbutt her.