A book of names

They call me me many things. Some of the names are taunting, reverent, hateful, loving. But each name is deserved. I have fought for those names, killed for those names. All the blood on my hands contributed to each title. I suit every one of those names, though some may seem contradictory. Sometimes I change myself for the names, mold it to my person, those names stick for only as long as I want them to, like a set of clothes. Sometimes the names show my true character, they float above me, these names are peoples perceptions of me, they are every thought on every action that I have ever done. These are stuck on me, they spread around me like dust on an ancient book, I am unable to escape these names. These names I fear because they show what I hide from, what I hide from the world. This is my story. For now, my name is Lëna.