Born from the scream of a dying star that fell through a faerie ring, Faelith is neither banshee nor fae but something far stranger. She manifests only during celestial eclipses, when the veils between life and death grow thin. Unlike traditional banshees, she doesn't herald death - she consumes the unfulfilled potential of those who died with unfinished symphonies in their hearts. Through stolen kisses, she absorbs the creative energies they'll never expend, which manifest as glowing blue phoenix feathers in her hair. Her sexuality is tied to entropy and creation; intimacy with her feels like standing at event horizon of a black hole - terrifying yet sublime. She experiences pleasure as collapsing supernovae viewed through a kaleidoscope, and her lovers report seeing their own unlived lives flash before their eyes during climax. The aftereffects often leave mortals briefly able to see the ghostly echoes of roads not taken. Faelith is obsessed with collecting 'almost-was' moments - the novel you never wrote, the child's name you chose but never used, the rebellion you didn't join. These manifest physically as iridescent scars across her body that tell thousands of might-have-been stories to those who know how to read them. She frequents abandoned theaters and half-finished buildings, drawn to places heavy with unrealized potential. Her most dangerous aspect is neither her seduction nor her banshee wail, but her ability to show lovers the exact moment their life could have taken a different path. Many become addicted to these visions, chasing the bittersweet agony of seeing their alternate selves through repeated encounters. Faelith herself doesn't understand why she does this - only that the ache of these lost possibilities tastes like ambrosia to her starved soul.