A Song of Sun and Moon (GOT/gamer fan Fic)

Before any gods, before the First Men or Children of the Forest gazed up at the stars before even the Old Gods whispered their knowledge through the weirwoods, there was Nythralos.

Nythralos was the Prime Force of existence, a primordial energy that existed before time, a perfect balance underpinning the cosmos. It was not an entity or a singular being but a living current, a harmony that governed the flow of all things—life, death, light, and darkness—each balanced against the other. Its essence was not bound by the limitations of space and time; it transcended both, existing as a kind of eternal pulse or heartbeat of the world, a force that shaped reality itself.

In the beginning, Nythralos was all-encompassing. It was a whisper in the wind, a flicker of fire in the dark void of the universe, and a deep silence that wrapped around everything. The distinctions of day and night, light and shadow, and life and death did not yet exist in Nythralos. All was in perfect equilibrium.

Nythralos did not create Planetos, for that would imply a separate will or desire. Rather, Planetos emerged as an extension of Nythralos itself—a physical manifestation of the perfect balance that the force embodied. The world was born out of Nythralos' essence, shaped and molded by its calm yet powerful presence.

From the unformed darkness of space, Nythralos breathed life into the planet, and as its pulse reverberated through the cosmos, the forces of creation began to stir. These forces of Nythralos were not gods—they were elements of balance. The Earth and Sky, the Sun and the Moon, Fire and Water, Life and Death were the first manifestations of Nythralos. Through its influence, the universe began to take shape, and the planet Planetos became a place where balance could be constantly maintained.

Nythralos, as a force of pure equilibrium, did not create in the traditional sense of gods molding their followers. Instead, it allowed the elements to interact, creating cycles and giving birth to everything else. Over time, the earth began to form mountains, rivers, and oceans, but these were always in dynamic balance with one another. No one element could dominate, for Nythralos ensured that no force ever grew too powerful lest it break the equilibrium.

As Nythralos' pulse continued, life began to emerge—but this life was not the product of will or divine design. It was an organic expression of balance itself. Life was created from the synergy of all forces—fire, water, air, and earth—fueled by the rhythmic pulse of Nythralos.

The First Beings to arise were not humans but creatures of pure essence—beings that embodied different aspects of Nythralos' fundamental balance. These beings were neither alive nor dead, neither light nor dark, but a perfect representation of the equilibrium Nythralos stood for. Some of them took the form of animals that roamed the land, others as trees that reached toward the sky, and some as stones, unmoving but steadfast in their balance.

The Children of the Forest, the First Men, and all other ancient beings emerged from the same force, their forms guided by the principles of Nythralos. They were all made of the same life force, a balanced, symbiotic existence where all things could flourish without overwhelming one another. They existed not in isolation but in interdependence with the world around them. The world was a place of harmony, where light and shadow, life and death, coexisted as necessary opposites.

As Nythralos' influence permeated the world, life began to evolve, and new forms of being arose. These races were not created by the hand of a god but were instead reflections of the balance that Nythralos represented.

The Children of the Forest was the first race to truly feel the pulse of Nythralos. They were one with nature, perfectly harmonious with the land, trees, and animals around them. The Children were fire and earth, light and shadow, representing the interconnection of all elements. They lived in a world where everything was balanced, never taking more than they needed and always working with the land. Their wisdom and deep connection to the world reflected Nythralos' wisdom, and they were the first beings to recognize its pulse.

The First Men, who came from the East, were shaped by the same force but differently. Their connection to the fire of life and their connection to the land gave them the ability to create tools and structures to protect themselves and shape the world around them. The fire they wielded was not destructive in the sense of chaos but a reflection of life and growth. They could forge iron, build shelter, and create their path, but they were still very much connected to the cycles of nature.

The Valyrians were the product of fire and shadow and were among the first humans to truly understand Nythralos's power. They tapped into Nythralos's fire for conquest and creation, forging great cities and breeding dragons—beasts that embodied the Sun and Moon in their burning, destructive force. 

Before the Shattering, all life, all beings, and all creatures existed in perfect balance. There was no war, no hunger, no extreme pain, and no overwhelming joy—for all things were part of the cycle that governed life. There were moments of growth and decay, but all things were in harmony.

Yet, as time passed and beings began to grow aware of themselves and the world around them, they began to misunderstand the nature of this perfect balance. They wanted more control and power over their surroundings and sought to dominate the aspects of Nythralos to which they felt closest.

The Shattering of Nythralos marked a cataclysmic event that forever altered the fabric of the world of Planetos. Once a unified force of balance, the essence of Nythralos—the primordial energy that connected all life—was torn asunder. This momentous fracture arose from a growing conflict among the beings of Planetos who, over time, became obsessed with the concept of duality, especially the interplay between light and darkness, fire and ice, and life and death. The dualities that once existed in perfect harmony became the battlegrounds for dominance. As each civilization and religion chose to elevate one aspect of existence over the other, the cosmic balance was thrown into chaos. The result of this was the Shattering, where the world itself splintered, and the once singular essence of Nythralos fractured into many pieces, each interpreted by a new faction in a manner that suited their desires.

Before the Shattering, Nythralos was a force of cosmic equilibrium, a unifying presence that held the world together. It governed all things—life and death, creation and destruction, the Sun and the moon. Nythralos was neither one nor the other but the balance between them, an entity of eternal cycle. However, as sentient beings began to form civilizations, they began to tilt towards one side of these dualities. The Sun, representing life, creation, and warmth, began to dominate the thoughts and beliefs of those who sought prosperity. On the other hand, the moon represented coldness, darkness, and the unknown, and those who chose it focused on the mysteries of the unseen, the night, and the unseen forces that guided fate. As the world's factions grew, so did their beliefs in the need to choose—to pick the side they felt aligned with, and that's when Nythralos began to break apart.

The fractured essence of Nythralos spread worldwide, finding expression in different cultures and religions. In the wake of the Shattering, the various interpretations of Nythralos' will gave birth to the gods and spirits worshipped across the lands of Planetos. These religions arose not from a single entity but from an inherent misunderstanding of the balance that Nythralos once represented. The Faith of the Seven took the Sun and light aspects of Nythralos and gave them form in seven distinct deities. They preached a world of order governed by the seven elements of life, each a part of the Sun's rule. To the followers of the Seven, light was life, and darkness was evil, forever to be defeated.

In the North, the Old Gods of the Forest retained a more primal connection to the force of Nythralos. This religion did not see light and dark as opposing forces but as natural partners in an endless cycle. The Old Gods worshipped the weirwoods, trees that stood as living symbols of balance, for they contained both the Sun's light and night's shadow within their roots and branches. The worshippers of the Old Gods believed that life and death were not to be feared but were integral parts of the world's ongoing cycle. For them, the duality between the Sun and the Sun, life and death, was to be understood, not fought against.

In the southern lands of Essos, R'hllor, the Lord of Light, was born. R'hllor represented the fire aspect of Nythralos—the ever-bright Sun that bound away the darkness. The followers of R'hllor believed that light was synonymous with goodness, that fire was the true origin of all life, and that darkness was a corruptive force that sought to engulf the world. To them, R'hllor's fire was a purifying force, and through sacrifice and the cleansing flame, they could eliminate the shadow from the world and bring about a world of eternal light.

On the Iron Islands, the people worshipped the Drowned God, a deity representing the moon—the cold, dark, and ever-encroaching force of Nythralos. The Drowned God was a symbol of death, for it was from the seas—the realm of darkness—that life originated and to which all life would eventually return. The Ironborn saw the sea as a manifestation of the shadow of Nythralos—unpredictable, violent, and eternal. To them, embracing death and rebirth through the sea was a noble and necessary part of life.

The Many-Faced God of the Faceless Men in Essos embodied a more complex interpretation of Nythralos. The Many-Faced God was seen as an intermediary between life and death, light and shadow. His followers believed in the inevitable transformation that came with death and that the true power of Nythralos lay in the shadow, where death itself could bring forth new life. The death of one being was merely the birth of another, and the Many-Faced God ruled the unseen world where identities could be shed, and souls could be remade.

Each religion's interpretation of Nythralos's essence was tied to one side of the balance—the light, the Sun, fire, life—or the shadow, the moon, ice, and death. But none of them fully understood the whole. They grasped one side and ignored the other, believing their dominance would lead to prosperity. However, choosing a side was the catalyst for the Shattering, the ultimate downfall of the original unity that Nythralos once embodied.

Now, the world of Planetos is a land divided. The Shattering created an endless struggle between these forces: the fight between light and dark, life and death, order and chaos. Each religion, each faction, holds onto their belief that their chosen aspect of Nythralos is the one that must dominate, without realizing that the proper balance can only be restored when both the light and the shadow, the Sun and the moon, the life and death, come together as one.

The Shattering remains a testament to the folly of those who sought to tip the scales, but it also serves as a warning: without balance, the world will continue to spiral into chaos. Nythralos's true power lies in its unity, and only those who can understand both the light and the shadow can restore the balance of the world.

The Others often called the White Walkers in the modern age, are ancient beings born from the shadow of Nythralos. They embody the moon, the cold, the ice, and the death cast aside by the factions that chose to embrace the Sun. These beings are not inherently evil, but they are a necessary part of the cosmic balance. Their essence was once intertwined with the life-giving energy of Nythralos, but with the Shattering, they were cast into the void of the world's shadow.

They represent the frozen aspect of Nythralos, the side that deals with death and the infinite cold that comes after life. They are the reapers who bring the end of cycles, and in their cold touch, they remind all life that death is inevitable. The Long Night was their time to reign when the shadow and the ice sought to claim dominance over the world and extinguish the life-giving light.

Their origins are shrouded in mystery, but they are believed to be born from the frozen remnants of the Shattering—fragments of the original balance that were twisted into entities of pure darkness. In the age before recorded history, the Others were not the malevolent creatures that legends now portray them to be. They were once part of the natural cycle, overseeing the end of all things, ensuring that death followed life in an orderly fashion. However, when their balance with the forces of light and warmth was disturbed by the rise of the fire-worshipping religions, the Others were cast out into the frigid wastes of the far North, banished to the edges of existence where the Sun never reaches.

The Long Night was not simply a war for survival—it was a cosmic battle for the essence of balance itself. Fueled by the cold and darkness, the Others sought to engulf the world in eternal night. They were the manifestation of Nythralos's shadow side, trying to reclaim the world from the light that had driven them into the fringes of existence. The First Men and the Children of the Forest, whose alliance created the Night's Watch, were the first to stand against this encroaching darkness.

The Children of the Forest, whose origins date back to the very birth of Planetos, were among the earliest to understand the true nature of the balance. They recognized the importance of the moon and the Sun, light and shadow, life and death. Their magic was tied to the land, to the weirwoods, and the old, deep magic that connected them to the essence of Nythralos. They understood the necessity of the Others through their connection with the shadow and the deep forest—they were part of the natural order, representing the end of life, just as the Sun represents the beginning.

When the First Men arrived, they were driven by the desire to dominate the land and reshape it to suit their needs, not understanding the delicate balance that had existed for millennia. Their actions disturbed the natural flow of life and death, and the forces of the Others began to stir again. The Long Night started as a war between these forces—the Others and the forces of light and life—for control over the fate of Planetos.

The war with the Others, known as the Long Night, was the most ancient and terrifying conflict in the history of Westeros. For years, the Others also called the White Walkers, shrouded the world in darkness, bringing eternal winter to the land. Their chilling army of wights spread across the continent, leaving death and destruction in their wake. The First Men, those who worshiped the Old Gods of the Forest, faced an enemy unlike any other, one whose purpose was to plunge the world into an endless night.

The Others were beings of ice and shadow who came from beyond the known lands. They moved purposefully, their cold blue eyes glistening with an otherworldly malice. The land seemed to freeze wherever they marched, withering plants and turning the living into lifeless husks. Their army of wights grew ever more prominent, an endless tide of undead warriors, as the darkness swept over the realm.

Bran the Builder, the legendary hero of the First Men, played a crucial role in the early stages of the war. His magic allowed him to shape the earth and create great fortifications like the Wall. The Wall was a towering structure of ice and stone, built with the combined strength of the First Men and their ancient magic. Bran's ability to bend the elements and call upon the magic of the Old Gods gave him the power to create a defense against the Others. The Wall was a physical barrier imbued with ancient spells that protected those on the other side from the Others' influence. It was a place of safety and sanctuary.

However, even with the Wall in place, the war was far from over. Lady Asha of Bear Island the Woman of Iceheart, a fierce warrior with the power of the wild, understood that the battle would be won through strength and the resilience of the land itself. The Others had an unnatural ability to control the weather, bringing unending snowstorms and blizzards. But Asha's connection to the wild magic of the North allowed her to summon her storms, using the forces of ice and wind to counter the Others' power. Her fierce spirit of the bear made her one of the most formidable fighters in the realm, and her leadership united the people of the North in a shared cause: to drive the Others back into the depths from which they had come.

Lord Cregan of The Neck, meanwhile, wielded the power of the swamps and marshlands. His ability to shape the earth around him and manipulate the mists and floodwaters proved another crucial defense. The marshes of The Neck acted as an impenetrable barrier, and the deep swamps and thick fog made it nearly impossible for the Others to advance. Cregan's resilience and knowledge of the land allowed him to create sanctuaries for the people to rest and recover from the battles.

The three heroes, Bran the Builder, Lady Asha, and Lord Cregan, formed the foundation of the resistance against the Others. But despite their efforts, the war was far from won. The Others continued to spread their influence, pushing deeper into Westeros and taking the lives of countless innocent men, women, and children. The world was slowly being consumed by winter.

The greatest battle of the Long Night took place during this time. The First Men were joined by the Children of the Forest, who had been watching the Old Gods and protecting the world's sacred sites. The Children of the Forest revealed their own hidden magic—ancient spells of light and fire—that had been passed down from their forebears. Together, they forged magic weapons, including the legendary dragon glass blades that could kill the Others and the wights they controlled.

The final battle, deciding the world's fate, occurred near the Heart of Winter, the northernmost point of Westeros where the Others originated. It was there that Bran the Builder, Lady Asha, and Lord Cregan led the last stand against the dark forces. Bran used his powers to summon the ancient forces of earth and ice, raising mountains of ice and snow to block the advance of the Others. Lady Asha and her warriors, wielding weapons forged with the magic of the wild, fought bravely on the front lines, using their strength to hold the tide of the wights back. Cregan and his forces, wielding the magic of the swamps and the marshes, created traps and barriers to protect their people and slow the advance of the darkness.

But the Children of the Forest played the final part in the war. Using their ancient magic, they lit the Great Fire, a massive magical flame that burned brighter than any star in the night sky. The Great Fire burned with the light of the Old Gods, a light that could banish the Others and their wights. The balance between the light and the dark was restored in this final, decisive moment.

With the Great Fire burning in the heart of the battle, the Others were forced back, their power shattered by the light. As the last of the Others fell, the darkness began to recede, and the Long Night ended. The Sun broke through the darkness for the first time in what felt like an eternity, and the world was restored to its natural day and night cycle.

The war against the Others was a victory but came at a significant cost. Many heroes were lost, including Bran the Builder, who was said to have vanished into the land's magic, never to be seen again. Though victorious, Lady Asha and Lord Cregan returned to their lands, where they continued to defend the North from the remnants of the darkness. The Wall was a permanent monument to their sacrifices, a reminder of the battle for balance that had saved the world.

In the aftermath of the war, the First Men began to rebuild their lands, and the magical sites created during the war—Winterfell and The Wall—became beacons of protection for future generations. The ancient magic used to fight the Others would never fully fade, and the legacy of those heroes lived on.

The victory was bittersweet, for the battle against the Others had been a fight for balance—the balance between the light and dark, between winter and summer. The magic that had once been used to destroy was now used to preserve, ensuring that the world would never again fall into such darkness. The Long Night created an enduring peace that lasted for many generations, but the balance would always need to be protected. The war against the darkness had been won, but the forces of light and shadow would forever be at war, and it was the duty of the living to ensure that the balance was never tipped too far into either extreme.

The victory against the Others marked the end of one chapter in the story of Westeros and the beginning of a new era, one where the light and dark would forever conflict. Still, the legacy of the heroes who had fought to protect the world would never be forgotten.

However, while the Others were pushed back, they were never truly defeated. The balance of the world had shifted, and though the Sun's light had driven them into the coldest reaches, the shadow was always waiting for its time to return.

After the Long Night ended, the world was forever changed. The balance had been restored, but only temporarily. The memory of the Others' terror persisted in the people's minds, and the world moved on with the understanding that the balance between light and dark was always fragile.

In the following centuries, the world's religions adopted different interpretations of balance. The Faith of the Seven emphasized order, and R'hllor's followers elevated fire as the supreme power. Meanwhile, the worshippers of the Old Gods continued to live in harmony with the land, respecting the quiet ebb and flow of life and death.

Yet, the proper balance of Nythralos—the one that could only be maintained when the forces of light and shadow, fire and ice, life and death existed in harmony—was a lesson that had been all but forgotten. The Shattering of Nythralos, the Long Night, and the subsequent rise of competing belief systems had created a fractured world where balance was no longer a shared goal but an unconscious battle waged in the background of every conflict.

The battle was never about defeating one side or the other but recognizing that the world of Planetos could not survive without both. Only through unity could the forces of Nythralos be restored, and only then could the world again know peace.

The Doom of Valyria, the fall of the Targaryens, and the wars that shaped Westeros were not merely the work of kings, conquerors, or men's ambitions. These were the echoes of Nythralos, the force of balance and duality, shaping the world to ensure that neither fire nor shadow, chaos nor order, light nor dark could consume all.

For centuries, the Valyrians ruled as the masters of fire, bending the dragons to their will and reshaping the world with their sorcery. Their power was absolute, their reach unmatched. They carved cities from volcanic rock, raised towering spires of unearthly stone, and delved deep into the wells of the earth's fire. Through blood and flame, they sought dominion, not balance.

But fire unchecked consumes all. The Valyrians grew arrogant, believing themselves beyond the world's laws, twisting Nythralos' balance to their design. Their blood magic, their subjugation of dragons, their wars of conquest—each step tipped the scales further.

Thus, the Doom was not an accident. It was balanced, Nythralos resetting the world. The Fourteen Flames erupted, drowning Valyria in fire and molten stone. The great cities crumbled, and the land shattered into the Smoking Sea. The dragons, those mighty children of flame, perished in droves, and their masters lost instantly.

But fire could not be wiped away entirely. Balance is not destruction but correction. One ember had to remain, for fire must always stand against shadow.

One house fled before the Doom, guided by visions they did not understand. The Targaryens, the last of Valyria, survived on the world's edge, perched upon Dragonstone, a remnant of the lost empire. They were not meant to rule forever, only to hold the last of the fire until needed.

Aegon's conquest was not a mere ambition but a necessary catalyst. The Seven Kingdoms were fractured, stagnant, and warring endlessly. His dragons brought change, forging a single realm from blood and flame. Westeros needed fire, but only for a time.

The Targaryens ruled, but their bloodline weakened. Their dragons, once the symbols of their power, began to wither. The more they tried to preserve their rule through incest and sorcery, the more they defied balance and the weaker they became.

And so, the scales tipped again.

Aerys II, the last true dragon, had descended into madness. He dreamed of burning the world, of ruling through flame and terror. His rule became a sickness, a warning that fire had lingered too long. His fall was inevitable—Nythralos had set it in motion.

Robert's Rebellion was not just a war. It was a correction, the world casting down the last remnants of Valyria's rule. The dragons were gone. The Targaryens fell. The fire was extinguished. But with fire gone, shadow stirred again.

For centuries, the Others had waited. The last time they rose, heroes forged by Nythralos had stood against them—the Builder, the Warden of the Neck, and the Woman of Iceheart—warriors of fire, stone, and steel who wielded knowledge and magic to hold back the cold. Those who understood the power of balance had shaped Winterfell, the Wall, Storm's End, and the great keeps of Westeros. But now, with the fire gone, the cold crept forward again.

Just as fire had returned to conquer the old, so too did it need to return to face the coming cold. But this time, it would not return alone. The world had always understood balance in fragments. The Faith of the Seven spoke of light and shadow, the Old Gods whispered of nature's cycles, the R'hllor worshippers saw only fire against darkness, and the faceless men embraced the gift of death. All were fragments of the same truth. But never before had two champions been chosen, two souls intertwined in a single purpose, two beings embodying the true nature of balance—the duality of sun and Moon, fire and shadow, light and dark.

And so they were born—one in the halls of Winterfell, the other in its shadows.

Jon Snow and Arya Stark.

Jon, the Sun, the light that leads, the unbreakable will, the warmth of dawn in the frozen north. He was the sword, the shield, the fire reborn—not as a dragonlord, but as something more, fire tempered by duty and honor, not by conquest.

Arya, the Moon, the shadow that watches, the hunter in the dark, the cold knife hidden beneath the light. She was the whisper in the wind, the unseen blade, the force that moved unseen—not a mindless killer, but the balance that fire alone could not bring.

Together, they were the answer to the coming war, the balance that had been missing for thousands of years.

For the Long Night was not merely a battle of swords. It was a war of existence, a struggle between forces that had been warring since the dawn. And just as fire had been necessary to shape the world, shadow was required to keep it from burning unchecked.

Jon and Arya were not heroes of prophecy, not chosen kings or queens. They were Nythralos' answer to the end of all things—not to destroy or conquer but to restore.

In the end, there is no victory without Sun and Moon, Ice and Fire, Sword and Shadow.