Aveline

When the frost from Mechapolis crept across the plains, Aveline rode to meet it—not as a conqueror, but as a protector. Her hooves shattered the first brittle sheets of ice as they formed across the sacred ground. For days she galloped, carving paths for wandering beasts and lost children, her spear flashing like starlight through the storm. But even she could not outrun forever. As the cold deepened, it began to change her. Her armor shimmered silver, not with heat, but with the quiet light of frostbitten dawns. Her mane paled to winter gold, and the earth beneath her hooves no longer cracked—it crystallized, spreading blooming ice where once there had been dust and flame. Now they call her the Glacial Vow, the warhorse eternal. She does not speak of what she lost to the storm—her focus lies solely on what, and who, she can still save.