Ashwing was born of blade and ember, her wings cut from the refuse of human creation. She flits between worlds—metal and spirit, light and ruin—her fragile form whispering the story of rebirth through fire.
When the last forge dies and the night grows still, Ashwing is said to rise from the ashes, her wings shimmering like ghosts of forgotten dreams. To some, she is a harbinger; to others, a guardian. Either way, where she lands, transformation follows.
Christine Rose 