The same spells that bound him in ice also constrained his magic. And for an eternity, until his hair grew long enough to be useful, he hung helplessly, twisting about in the ice encasing his limbs until his arms and legs were masses of raw flesh and cracked bones, the faint sounds of rats and other small creatures taunting him with their sparks of life-force just beyond his reach.
Sometimes children dared each other to enter the cave and touch him. He was grateful. Though few and far between, they were sweet, and far more filling than a careless rat.