And so it went that every year thereafter, another sheet of ice flowed down the mountain, thinner than a foal's hoof, bringing with it another fragment of Windhome. Through chance or magic or fate these pieces sank onto each other, until over the centuries the cleaving glaciers sliced ancient Windhome apart and brought it here, to this cold coast, and slowly, slowly, slowly, the shards of Windhome sank, and the city itself was reborn.