Mavelli of Avalon

The moving statue, Velli
**Race**

Fairy (originally), Gargoyle (via curse)
**Age**

819
**Birthday**

May 8th
**Star Sign**

Taurus
**Family**

Oberon (Father)
Titania (Mother)
Gaelea (sister)
Mira (sister)
Mona (sister)
Lirli (sister)

Mavelli was once a beautiful fairy who lived in Avalon, the isle of apples. During the war for Avalon where the people, fairy and human alike, fought together against invaders to their kingdom, Mavelli fell in love with an invading Scottsmen named Alastair. Their relationship was discovered by her father on the battlefield and in his anger, he cursed her to her current state.

Although cursed to walk eternity only at night, Mavelli still retains her powers. She can create whole forests with just a thought. Usually a loner, Mavelli travels the world over, never stopping too long. With the changing of the times she has taken to making a game out of her visits to towns by constantly moving in large cities, gaining her the nick name *The Moving Statue*. Each morning she could be found in a new location and in a new pose, surrounded by flowers that would grow around her out of nowhere. It became a game, but the moment it became too dangerous, Mavelli would flee from the scene.

Eventually, while Mavelli was out one day, a portal appeared before her. Thinking it was Oberon finally calling her home, she blinding went in, only to end up in the depths of the Dark Forest, where she was later found by Sabrinell, accompanied by Audun.

## Cursed

Mavelli, in light silver armor made of
mythrill and orichalcum ore, walked the wilds of Avalon, underbrush
and tree, her bright green eyes scanning for the enemy just south of
the borders they had managed to take. Her feathered wings, a feature
rare among her kind, were tucked carefully to avoid damage as strands
of purple hair moved against her tanned cheeks. Her pointed ears
twitched as she listened for sounds among the call of birds, one hand
on her sword as the other reached for the dagger strapped to her
thigh. The strong smell of blood reached her nose, taking her
attention.

Curiosity was a thing fae like her had
been known to be victim to and Mavelli, wizened as she was, was no
exception to this trait. Pushing away some of the brush she found
him. He wasn't the most handsome of men, with his square jaw, crooked
nose, scruff of a beard and messy bright orange hair, braided with
colored twine and matted with blood and mud. She readied the dagger,
about to plunge it into his heart, the sound of his ragged breathing
loud in her ears. She held the dagger in position, about to strike
when he opened his eyes. Her breath hitched as her green met eyes the
color of a summer storm.

"Are you an angel?" He asked,
the Scottish accent thick on his tongue as he spoke. "Have I
died?"

She found she couldn't bring herself to
do the killing blow, and she didn't understand why. Sheathing her
dagger, she scanned the area and spotted an unused cave. Against her
better judgment, she lifted the injured and obviously starving
delirious man and carried him to the cave. She had never had this
sort of feeling before. She knew she had to kill him, but her
heart... her heart screamed no.

For the next two weeks of the war,
Mavelli would sneak back out and nurse him back to health, report she
had found nothing and return back to the area to meet with him.

Alastair had recovered thanks to her
help and watched as she stoked a fire and conjured fruit from the
ground out of nothing. "You're my enemy." He said as he ate
an apple from the pile she had brought him.

She turned her eyes to him. "Aye,
I am..." She remained by the fire, un-moving. For nearly two
weeks she had watched this man, waited for him to turn on her to give
her an excuse to run him through, but he hadn't, and she wondered
just... why. What was he hesitating for?

“Why are you helping me?”

“Honestly,
I don't know.” And it was true, she didn't know why he eluded death
by her hand. She had already killed fifty invading humans, why was
this one different?
He crossed the distance between them,
apple discarded in the dirt. With a gentleness Mavelli didn't know a
human man could possess, he took her face in his hands and caressed
the soft skin with dirt and juice covered fingers. Rude or not, he
longed to touch her. Eyes on hers Alastair gently pulled her into a
kiss like no other.

For a moment, Mavelli fought the kiss,
but quickly melted and allowed herself to relax into it. It wasn't
long before clothes were ripped away and they were made one. It was a
stupid mistake, but one Mavelli would repeat over and over again,
that night and many more nights in this long war. The feeling of love
grew between them the more time they spent until after nearly a month
and a half it all came crashing down.
Alastair had been
rediscovered by some of his army men and forced to return to them.
The separation was... unbearable. Every night they did their best to
sneak to one another, risking everything. But it was on the
battlefield that it all ended.
Mavelli was deep into fight,
slashing humans that attacked her left and right. Her father was on
the field along with her sisters and others of their kind. Her sense
ran wild as did her mind, but it was the smell of his blood in the
wind that tore her attention away from the fight. Turning she saw
him, he wore the armor she had seen him in, but with a sash that
denoted he was a man of status... an heir of the attacking clan.

Alastair stood, face to face with another heir of his clan,
Dougal, his younger brother. They were fighting... each other.
Confusion settled on her face as she tried to get close.
Dougal
sneered at his elder brother. “You're a waste of an elder brother.
You don't deserve to be part of this clan, you hardly deserve to
live!”
“You should have tried harder the last time
brother.”
“I could have sworn I left you for dead. How did
you do it then? How did you survive?”
“I don't have to
tell you a damn thing you traitorous wretch.” They clashed swords,
steel locked with steel, eyes burning with anger. He should have
known Dougal would do everything he could to get rid of him, and this
stupid war waged by his father was a good excuse as any to do so. And
try he had. If it had not been for Mavelli... He nearly had to upper
hand against his brother, when Dougal removed the hidden dagger from
his sash and stabbed deep into Alastair's chest.

Mavelli's eyes widened and tears
spilled as she ran like the wind to him, her wings behind her helped
to move the air. Throwing out a hand, the vines ripped up from the
ground and ripped Dougal apart. Sliding under him, she caught
Alastair in her embrace. “No... no please...” She squeaked.
“Don't... I can't lose you now...”
Alastair stared up at
her, his hand reaching to caress her cheek gently, he managed a smile
as his lungs filled with blood and spilled from his mouth.
Oberon
had seen how she fled to the boy, and anger clouded him. His favored
daughter consorting with an enemy, and the heir of one no less. “You
have betrayed all your kind for this... \*human\*!”
Mavelli
cradled him, Oberon's words falling on deaf ears.
The anger
rose and Oberon did something he would regret for the rest of his
existence. He cursed her.

As her love lay dying in her arms, as
she lamented for him, her body twisted and ached as the change overtook
her. Her wings lost their feathers, her skin darkened and horns
grew from her head as a tail popped out from the gap in her armor.
The overwhelming pain filled her as she wished for death to take her
too.