Anastasia grew up as a simple street rat. She didn't know her parents, nor her age. Even her name was given to her by a friend. In the typical Templar fashion, they took her off the streets and recruited her into their ranks when she was young. They gave her food, shelter, and even love. She submitted easily to their emphatic training.
She grew up with the other young recruits, finding a fellowship in their shared experiences. She proved adept in all fields, but it was in anti magic that she excelled at. At times, she doesn't even need to touch a mage to render them magicless. It's as if the very air around her can be charged with this force. It's not a skill anyone else has exhibited before.
While she believes unreservedly in their cause, she experiences her moments of doubt. What is anti magic if not another form of magic itself? She never dares to ask the question. It sits heavily on her mind, the woman always looking twice at herself in mirror before frowning and moving on.