A/N: I got my first inklings of an idea of my story off this poem and I thought it fit the in itself nicely. It kind of tells the tale of Tragic, though there are the differences.

Lenore
Ah, broken is the golden bowl!-the spirit flown forever!
Let the bell toll!-a saintly soul floats on the Stygian river:
And, Guy de Vere, hast thou no tear?-weep now or nevermore!
See! on yon drear and rigid bier low lies thy love, Lenore!
Come! let the burial rite be read-the funeral song be sung!-
An anthem for the queenliest dead that ever died so young-
A dirge for her the doubly dead in that she died so young.

"Wretches! ye loved her for her wealth and hated her for her pride;
And when she fell in feeble health, ye blessed her-that she died:
How shall the ritual, then, be read?-the requiem how be sung
By you-by yours, the evil eye-by yours, the slanderous tongue
That did to death the innocence that died, and died so young?

Peccavimus: but rave not thus! and let a Sabbath song
Go up to God so solemnly the dead may feel no wrong
The sweet Lenore hath gone before, with Hope, that flew beside,
Leaving thee wild for the dear child that should of been thy bride-
For her, the fair and debonair, that now so lowly lies,
The life upon her yellow hair but not within her eyes-
The life still there, upon her hair-the death upon her eyes.

"Avaunt!-avaunt! from fiends below, the indignant ghost is riven-
From Hell unto a high estate far up within Heaven-
From grief and groan, to a golden throne, beside the King of Heaven!
Let no bell toll, then, lest her soul, amid its hallow mirth,
Should catch the note as it doth float up from the damned Earth!
And I-tonight my heart is light:-no dirge will I upraise,
But waft the angel on her flight with a Paean of old days!"

Edgar Allen Poe

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Chapter One

I remember hearing of sets of gods and goddesses, hundreds upon thousands of them. So many cultures having their own hopes and dreams pushed into these people whom we perceive as 'greater' than life. Yet now my memory is fading of such things, I wonder if I'm going to finally die even if I'm still so young. This white mist that surrounds my pale body is consuming with its evil intentions, such beauty yet so sullied by hatred. Its so beautiful, the lingering death which is so unlike my own scarred beauty. It was like snow that brought loving grace, which is deceiving within itself, whereas myself just repels any and all life.

Oh, I'm sorry but that's off task. I was talking about the gods and goddesses that plague our sub-consciousnesses. They're dreamed up to be beautiful things, untouched from any wrong unlike me where my beauty is covered in cuts and bruises. There are so many of them that its only natural that they began to overlap. Their personalities as well as 'gifts' and 'abilities' turning into one jumbled mess, which is always being added onto. Most of them aren't the main cultural gods, which many are, but mainly from each single person putting all they are into each. So its only natural that there are so many and many are always dying. But there are ones in which don't die when their creator does or creators do, and they are the ones whom are often given incarnations into the human world to do their wonders. It didn't matter whether they were good or bad.

If I was one of those gods or goddesses, which I am not seeing that's an impossibility in my case, I'd be one of hate, torment, and despair as well as one of death. Mainly death for my eye marks as much. I was ever the one to be unloved and hated for the scar across my left eye, I am lucky that not everyone knows the truth behind that eye. An eye so devastatingly beautiful it only has one option...to kill whomever gazes upon it. Which is the reason why not very many know since the ones who were stupid enough to find out for themselves just died in the most horrid fashion.

Yet for some strange reason I'm still desired. Sure I'm beautiful, perhaps even more so than Moon herself. But then I can't forget that she isn't what she once was and even she isn't completely awakened yet for she's still trapped in that slave body. I only know even the tiniest specks of knowledge of her since I met her once but that's a story into itself, which I don't have the mind to tell ones such as yourself.

My beautiful eye only brings death as I mentioned already. It manifests in my left eye and is the truth of why I am desired. It didn't matter if it was sealed or I never told anyone else, the trees had ears, which looked into my very mind and soul. I sometimes, no almost always, wished that I'd just die and be done with everything leaving no children to eventually birth another me in another couple generations or so for as long as the elven blood in my veins exist the curse will keep coming back sometime or another. It ran in my elven blood for I remember hearing legends of another woman who had the same curse, a woman of terrifying beauty where it manifested itself in both eyes rather than one. But she was a full blood who had better control over it.

I mentioned my left eye being a desired thing, which it is for just the reason why I loathed it, its terrifying power even in half. Another species wants it flowing in their veins as well. A higher class of deities, which in numbers can take down a god not to mention a mere Halfling. Many call them by their names or the 'Siaos' though they are more commonly known as 'Winged Beasts', which opens another set of names.

The Siaos are greedy, power hungry creatures that try to move up a rank at every turn. They want to be gods, they want to bring a rein of terror on us lesser humans. But despite their power that was ever the impossibility. They always used their deceiving beauty to lure in young mortals who showed promise to increase their abilities, whether the human was vessel to big or small, but they were also rare and were falling ever closer to the extremities. The Siaos have been dying out within the last two hundred years, all creatures die eventually, even gods, which isn't surprising since they don't appear like the type of creature to survive throughout the ages. They live long lifetimes, seemingly infinite, which they add to their longtivity by taking those human lives and adding vitality into their tainted selves.

Very few females in the Siaos can be recorded and even when they are born their lifespan is generally much shorter than one of the males. A female can live up to a couple hundred years and only are fertile for children only a couple of times within their lifetimes. The Siaos are an infertile bunch, which explains a lot. It was all fine and dandy to me until they 'discovered' my 'gift' and me.

My human blood disgusted them for why should they breed with something so beneath them? But it was my fairy-elf blood, which they looked down on as well, which in a way intrigued them. Even if I had living family they would of been ignored to some degree for once it manifests in one it takes to their direct descendents in my case. Oh my curse didn't show itself until I was a bit older and was attacked, another story which may or may not be explained.

I'd prefer not to explain on the events that took place when they started their interests. It left me even more sullied than before, my hands will never be able to wash off all of the blood. It left me even more cursed and my left eye will never close again.

But I must stop now for my body is shivering cold, the white snow that is so near my covered body is unbearable. I could never use any magick or have tolerance to it when everything about me bespoke of it, which is ironic in my case. Oh and I'm sorry for not telling you this already but my name is, and always will be, Lenore.