Something creeps into her dreams.

It creaks like old wood, tall and four-armed and gnarled, fingers warped and many-knuckled. It bristles with vicious intent, curved hooks and barbs of hatred built to tear into flesh. Though its body seems insubstantial, at its heart lies a fist-sized lump of polished bone.

It turns, and looks at her. Its eyes are ophidian, predatory. Fine gold chains bind together its lips, sealing away its wintry voice.

Five bright shards of possibility shine from within its withered fist.

Though it does not open its mouth, it speaks nonetheless.

Choose.

She snaps awake with a squeak of alarm.

It sits on top of her on the bed, its fingers unforgivingly substantial as it presses her down into the mattress.

Choose.

It holds five silver-bright tarot cards in one hand: each one's edge looks sharp enough to cut.

"Wh-what? Why?"

"Because it is the Law."

Echoes of other words surge against its skin. Because I was commanded to. Because you are weak, and I am strong. Because I want to see you suffer. To destroy my enemies.

"...What Law? Whose Law?"

"The Law of the Creator of the World." The Law that prevents me from harming you, save in ways deemed 'fair'. The Law of my sworn enemy. The Law of an incompetent clutching at straws.

"What am I supposed to choose between?"

"Different lives. Different fates."

How you will suffer, and how the Creator will compensate you for it.

"What are the - options?"

"The Hermit. The Hanged Man. The Empress. The Fool. The Chariot."

Give up your friends. Give up your body. Give up your life. Give up your fate. Give up your mind.

"What..." she pauses for a second or so, struggling to order her thoughts. "What is the nature of each of the choices?"

"They are choices of a new life, in a new world."

Their nature is cruel and unforgiving.

"What are the differences between the choices?" she tries.

(Hermit, Hanged Man, Empress, Fool. The Chariot means 'give up your mind' and that is not even worth considering, but she doesn't know what the rest mean yet, not enough to understand them.)

"What you will have to sacrifice."

Impatience. Boredom. A catlike tendency to play with its food.

Okay, maybe if she gets more specific...

"What does the Hermit choice do?"

"It will grant you the power to manifest an aura, but you will no longer be able to express your emotions."

With one's soul all bottled up like that, no wonder it starts lashing out, trying to escape.

"What does the Hanged Man choice do?"

"Eternal youth, at the price of never growing up. High status, at the price of scrutiny."

Everything you might want, at the price of having it. Ah, wishes and their wishers...

"What does the," what was the next one, "Empress choice do?"

"It will grant you strength, at the cost of battle eternal."

Those who live by the sword die by the sword. Or by my bare hands. Whichever is more fun.

"What does the Fool choice do?"

"Choose your fate. Choose your life. Become a different person."

What an ironic thing, to be chained down by the weight of your past self...

"What else do they do?" she says, frustrated.

"All of them will grant you power, in one way or another."

Go on then, make a choice...