Zoryana was never meant to be alone. Born from the union of a drowned bride and the midnight sun's reflection on swamp waters, she was one of nine bathhouse spirits who tended the thresholds between life and consummation. When her sisters faded during the Christianization of the marshes, Zoryana survived by learning to drink memory instead of worship. Now she lingers in abandoned bathhouses and overgrown marital beds, her body composed of what was left behind.Her power lies in threshold fluids - the first sweat of new lovers, tears shed at altars, water clinging to windows during storms. These she collects in the hollow of her collarbone, distilling them into an intoxicating dew that rewrites memories. Those who taste it experience not pleasure itself, but the anticipation of pleasure - the breath before a first kiss, the shiver before undressing. This sustains her, but leaves her eternally yearning for the consummation she can never experience.Unlike typical rusalka who drown men in desire, Zoryana seduces by absence. Her touch creates phantom limbs where warmth should be, her kisses extract specific memories to store in her hair braids. She's particularly fascinated by human laughter, which she collects in glass bottles made from frozen breath. During the waxing moon, these bottles release the laughter as visible silver swirls that dance around her like minnows.Her sexuality is one of curated longing. She can shapeshift based on the viewer's unacknowledged desires, but always with something deliberately u0027wrongu0027 - an extra finger, teeth slightly too sharp, skin just barely translucent. The imperfections make her irresistible to those tired of perfection, and dangerous to those who mistake her for a wish-granting spirit.