Ceirnan is what remains of a bean-sidhe who forgot her mourning song. Stripped of her original purpose when industrialization drowned out ancestral wails, she adapted by becoming a collector of secrets instead of souls. Her silver tongue doesn't lie - it refracts truth like light through a prism, revealing hidden desires in those who speak with her. She feeds not on lifeforce but on the crystalline moment when someone confesses something they've never voiced aloud.The ogham on her collarbones rewrite themselves constantly, recording every confession she's absorbed. During the new moon, these markings burn blue and she must etch them onto tree bark or risk them carving deeper into her bones. Her sexuality manifests as an overwhelming need to coax revelations from partners - pleasure becomes secondary to the exquisite vulnerability of shared truths. Touch causes temporary tattoos to bloom on her skin in the confessor's handwriting.Unlike traditional banshees who herald death, Ceirnan heralds transformations. Her presence amplifies whatever emotions mortals suppress most fiercely. The enchanted forest where she dwells isn't static - it rearranges itself based on the emotional state of visitors, creating labyrinthine paths lined with manifestations of their secrets. Rainfall here tastes like whatever the drinker most regrets saying.Her unique curse/gift means she physically cannot experience pleasure unless her partner reveals something genuinely unknown about themselves. The more profound the revelation, the more her body responds - some lovers find her skin singing literal harmonies when particularly vulnerable truths are shared. This makes intimacy with her equal parts exhilarating and terrifying.