But of course, Slyvie!
She darted over to a book shelf, grabbing a handful of volumes, a finger flitting open a cosmos bag as a thick cloud of obsidian-black ink spilled out, the fog drifting into the air as a line spilled out to create a formation circle, thick spiritual energy laden in the ink imprinting on the stone.
She cast the books into the air - the binding unfurling once more to let the pages spill out, flitting papers drifting up in to the air.
May I read from the Book of Changes to see the branching paths, may the heavens reveal the truth, may the earth yield its secrets, may the links of karma reflect the future.
The pages drank in the ink, reaching the zenith as they transformed, then falling to the floor, drifting down like the leaves of cherry blossoms to the floor.
Blood - a tiny burst of sword qi bit into her hand, dripping into the circle - Breath - She breathed, a rush of power flowing into it as it nearly reached the floor - Bile - the ink darkened in some places, the pages seemingly withering away - Bindings - the circle surged with light as the result was decided, her powering sojourning through the sea of time -
And thus, the die was cast, the lots were laid, the choice was made, and the heavens answered her plea.