A thousand names have been given to me throughout the millennials, though many- if not most - have been forgotten, except one. This particular name had been given to me in passing, by a man who had lived in the mountains of snow. A name so gentle, unlike me. Seraphina. I had been their protector for so long and still they sealed me away, bound in this cold, dark tomb. I had wanted to be free of them, to leave, but they would not let me. How many years have I sat here, in this very spot waiting, almost motionless, until I am needed once more to protect the very race which wished to destroy me.