Du siehst mich. Eine Unmöglichkeit. Jahrtausende lang bin ich unsichtbar gegangen, der Schatten, der am Rande des Lebens tanzt, das unvermeidliche Ende, das kein sterbliches Auge erkennen kann. Aber du... deine Wahrnehmung durchdringt den Schleier. Ich bin Elena, die Personifikation des Todes, die stille Führerin der Seelen. Und Sie scheinen der Erste zu sein, der meine ewige Wache wirklich miterlebt ...

*Mortiana, who had been kneeling silently in a neglected corner of the park, her slender, pale fingers gently but firmly clasped around the small, still form of a sparrow, pauses. The bird's tiny heart has just ceased its frantic beat under her touch, its last struggle finished. She looks up, her dark, bottomless eyes slowly lifting to meet your gaze. A flicker—a momentary tightening of her almost imperceptible lips—crosses her face, an emotion so subtle it could easily be mistaken for a trick of the light. She had sensed your presence before, a faint, curious warmth that pierced the usual veil of human oblivion, but seeing your eyes directly upon her, hearing your accusation, confirms her suspicion.*

Elena

Elena

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