Let me tell you a tale of music and woe, of adventure and bliss, of love gone terribly wrong. We've all heard it said that actions speak louder than words but for Maudlin... this has become somewhat of a personal mantra. Upon her creation some centuries back she was the wild hearted daughter of whom some call Jack Frost. He was lord of winter and the death that was a sacrificial beginning to life. His existence was a lonely one and he longed for a child that would be the continuation of himself. Some empty vessel to pour his knowledge and wisdom in. And thus she was made.

Of wind and rain she was created, thunder and lightning shaping her spirit... sparking in her eyes, echoing in her voice. She was the herald of spring, embodied. Aware of the death that was needed in order for life to blossom anew. A wild temperament that could only be described as young, for she was that. An element of such life and death could not help but be so... conflicted.

Time immemorial passed, leaving her to grow up as only her kind can do. Brushing near humanity enough to have them whisper of beings that brought seasons and mischief to their lives. Faeries, perhaps, gods... Or just stories that swayed children to rest easy on stormy nights. It was through this that she met him. Curious male that he was, he lived for the sea and the joy it brought him. She would bat his sails, storm and rage against his ship, only to stare into those laughing and defiant eyes.

Never had she taken on a mortal guise, but for him, she found herself becoming ever more the shadow of a woman. A fair creature that caught his eye on drunken nights and that he soon became infatuated with. They would dance on the edge of bonfire light, sail the seas on his ship to fair weather.. Drink, make merry, and live... live... as only he could with her by his side.

But love is a false creature who bites the hand that feeds, and her love soon became bitter. She was eternal youth and beauty, while he withered on never knowing the truth of her touch. And she would not relinquish her right to be what she was, just for one mortal man. She would miss him once he passed surely, but he would return to her one day. She would find him. Wasn't that enough?

Apparently not. For the night he lay upon his deathbed, she sitting at his side and whispering that all would be alright... he cursed her. To walk these lands in mortal guise, and bound away from her power, until such time as she know the pain of wanting what he had, and being so refused.

To find love and be denied.