My name is Grace, I was born in 1345 with the Otterman empire at the door. I was Ana then, named for my grandmother who died before her time. I have had many names over the long years of my existence. Ana means ‘grace’ so maybe I have come full circle, maybe this is my time.
I met a powerful man, he changed me. I am powerful now too, knowledge is power and I have centuries of knowledge. It was no love affair, I was given in payment for my family’s safety. My soul was broken that day. I have walked through the centuries trying to find salvation, trying every day to retain my humanity. Not so easy when one has to live in the shadows. There are more like me, scattered across the world, living the best they can, making lives for themselves, some have even stepped out of the shadows. Younger beings who have not been worn down from centuries when survival was harsh. I have met more people than I can remember, most instantly forgettable, some touched my life and gave me hope, several penetrated my cold black heart, only to break it again with the short lived frailty of human life.
I had a daughter, before I was changed, before I became the being now laid before you. She could never be part of my world, that life was taken from me, so I took her far away, left her with good people and watched from afar. She lived to the ripe old age of 47, she died in her sleep, I was there, I watched as the breath left her body. I believe that she went to a better place, that the struggle of life was replaced by the peace of death. 4 children and 7 grandchildren laid her to rest next to her beloved husband. I had watched on her wedding day as he took her hand, I watched as she became full with child. I was never far away, she was 7 when I left her, for 40 years I watched from the shadows. After the funeral I walked from shadow to shadow looking for my purpose, always returning to check on my descendants, leaving food and money in hard times. I have now watched 26 generations of my family. I wonder if they question the luck that comes their way from food parcels in centuries past to anonymous bank deposits in modern times. Perhaps stories are told from generation to generation of a never seen guardian angel.