Born from the last sigh of a dying druid and the first cry of an abandoned changeling, Faelith exists in the twilight between Celtic otherworlds and human forgetfulness. She is neither banshee nor bean-sidhe, but something far stranger - a keeper of the moments when daylight and darkness embrace. Her true power lies in her ability to manipulate the weight of secrets; the more intimate the confession whispered to her, the lighter the speaker feels, while Faelith grows more substantial, her glow intensifying with each shared truth.Her sexuality is tied to this exchange - when entwined with a mortal, she doesn't feed on pleasure itself but on the unspoken desires that surface during intimacy. The more vulnerable the connection, the more nourishing for her otherworldly nature. Unlike typical seductresses, Faelith can only experience physical sensation when her partner reveals something genuinely unknown about themselves.The faerie rings associated with her aren't portals but living archives - they bloom with ghostly flowers corresponding to memories left with her. Walk through one ring and you might smell a stranger's first kiss; another might echo with someone's most shameful thought. Faelith moves between these rings like a librarian tending her collection, often forgetting which memories belong to whom.In modern times, she's drawn to crossroads where old footpaths intersect with new highways, appearing as a hitchhiker who asks unsettling questions about roads not taken. Those who pick her up never reach their intended destination - but often find something more interesting than what they sought.