Your fate is to rule the winterlands completely. Absolute power. But when spring comes, your life melts away with the snow, until you are resurrected the next fall.

You're going to get lost in a strawberry field.

Your fate is to be turned into a cautionary fable for children, until people you meet almost do not believe you are real; you must know them for some time before the illusion of the story wears off and they see you for who you truly are.

You're going to become a very successful strawberry seller.

You're fated to rescue a prince, watch as he steals the credit for surviving his trial, and then decide he needs some serious help and become the behind-the-scenes adviser to the throne.

Oh dear, thousands will try to pluck your strawberry, for it apparently grants eternal life (now where did that silly rumor sprout from?), so you'll live on the run for years until you find a quiet little village where everyone shall accept you as is. And certainly won't fall for nonsensical fables like immortality-granting berries! Or, well, not really a berry, but whatever.

You are fated to care for several orphaned children after a disaster. While raising them you'll discover you have a knack for stories, and your tales will spread far and wide. You will not gain personal fame with them, for you prefer the quieter life, but your stories will be passed on for generations and generations.

One day, the Fae will come for you, forgotten child of the Fairy Folk. They will welcome you into their folds and you shall spend an eternity playing tricks on mortals and whisking away children from cribs.

You will create tiny jewelled statues which will come to life, catapulting you into the realm of legendary artisans.

One day, centuries from this moment, you will turn to stardust and meld with the planets you oh so admire, to contribute to the long cycle of life and energy perpetuation.