Centuries ago, long before any living mortal can remember, the Gods were at war. The war between the Aesir and Vanir was near inevitable. Both parties of Gods had existed peacefully if not always harmoniously. Then my mother, the Goddess Freyja, travelled to Asgard to better understand our Aesir neighbours, in the hopes of devising a truce that would benefit both parties. But the Aesir sought to use my mother's gifts against her and then accused her of leading the Aesir astray from their principles. Freyja was murdered by the Aesir three times, and three times she rose again, before returning to her beloved Vanaheim to warn her people of impending war. Incensed by her escape, the All-Father, Odin, declared war on Vanaheim. If he had expected an unprepared people, he was sorely disappointed. The Vanir fought valiantly, though both sides incurring heavy losses as the war waged on.

Eventually, both the Aesir and the Vanir tired of fighting, the war could not continue if either race was expected to survive. A truce was called, each side sacrificing two of their own to live in the other realm. My mother and my uncle, Freyr, were to live in Asgard, while the Aesir gifted us Hoenir and Mimir. The Vanir believed Hoenir to be a wise man and he became the ruler of Vanaheim, until the people realised that, without Mimir, he was nothing. My people were furious, we had given our greatest and wisest leaders, and we had received a bumbling simpleton and a genius. Mimir paid the price for Odin's cheating, his head severed and returned to the All-Father. Rather than waging another war that both Aesir and Vanir knew would cost them heavily, the two tribes came together and a binding truce was agreed upon, all present spitting into a cup, from which Kvasir was born.

As time passed, Asgard continued to bloom and prosper whilst Vanaheim was left in ruins. The majority of the wars had been fought in Vanir territory, the scars of war too extensive for the remaining Vanir to repair. Any appeal to Odin for assistance fell on deaf ears. The two tribes existed in peace, although there was always an undercurrent of tension, knowing that the All-Father had all but abandoned us in our time of need. My mother soon returned to Vanaheim and resumed her rule. Under her rule, Vanaheim slowly began to recover, although it is still a mere shadow of the grand realm it once was. Where once there was rolling meadows was now blackened soil, burned ruins of people's homes a reminder of what had passed here.

And this, dear reader, is where our story begins. The war happened long before my time, though I still see the land burdened by the aftermath of war. My sisters see nothing of this, simply a tiny realm that lacks the wonderful frivolities that Asgard has to offer. Left to any of them, Vanaheim would soon enter a full alliance with Asgard, leaving our pride in tatters. So I stand as my mother's heir, a secret from everyone except myself, my mother and my uncle. My name is Sigyn, and I am a Princess of Vanaheim.