An álfar named Frey came through the window, and he defeated the wyrms using a sword dipped in his flaming blood. He closed the window to Alfheim, using his blood to seal it, but since he might want to return home in the future, he left it open only to those with álfar blood.

We rebuilt the city, but we moved it underground, in case a wyrm ever came through again. The trolls warned that someone might open the window again, so they asked the Ögonen to stay awake and help to guard and protect Áibmoráigi.

This is when the bridge was lost, when the Ögonen cloaked the city.

By then, King Asa the Cold had grown tired of living underground. The trolls that had moved to southern villages were plagued by conflict with humans, so Asa the Cold ventured west, across the sea.

In the new lands, the trolls thrived, and soon they all but forgot about Áibmoráigi. Over time, the kingdom grew larger, and it splintered. One tribe became two: the Kanin in the north, and the Vittra in the south.

But the Vittra Queen Bera, she remembered the stories of the First City and its powerful guardians. She worried about enemies—the Kanin, the humans, those she had yet to know.

She brought her stronger troops across an angry sea and through the mountains to pound on the doors of Áibmoráigi. The trolls refused to give up the Ögonen, and a bloody fight ensued.

In a truce, Bera agreed to take only the Ögonen and all of their sorgblomma, and they left the rest with the Áibmoráigi trolls, now calling themselves Älvolk.

The Älvolk became fearful that others would come for the Ögonen and the window to Alfheim would be left unguarded.

So they built cages in the mountainside, made of iron and stone, and they locked the Ögonen up. They told themselves it was to keep them safe, to keep everyone safe, as they sapped power and magic from the Ögonen.

The Ögonen the Vittra took fared only slightly better. The Vittra built the Mimirin Talo institution, and the Ögonen had shifted to standing guard in towers and sleeping in dirt. From the top of the Mimirin, I watched as the tides went in and out, the citadel sprawling around dust.

Two tribes became five, and the Ögonen protected the Mimirin from the Kanin to the north, the Trylle to the east, and the Omte to the south.

The Ögonen watched as the world moved on, and they stayed frozen, trapped in glass like fireflies in a jar. The Vittra would slaughter them if they left, so they stayed, and listened to the cries of the Ögonen left in Áibmoráigi.

In Áibmoráigi, they never left their cages. They’d stretch their long arms through the bars, reaching for one another, but never touching. All of their work for trollkind left them weakened, unable to fight back.