The Wall stood like a frozen giant at the edge of the world.
Forged from ancient ice and hardened snow, the colossal structure stretched across the northern frontier of the Seven Kingdoms for one hundred leagues, dividing civilization from the untamed wilderness beyond. Towering nearly seven hundred feet high at its tallest points, the Wall extended from the Frostfangs in the west all the way to the Bay of Seals in the east.
It was not merely a fortification.
It was a boundary between order and chaos.
South of the Wall lay the Seven Kingdoms.
North of it lay the lands of the wildlings—and perhaps far worse things hidden within the endless cold.
Guarding this ancient barrier was the Night's Watch, the black-clad brotherhood sworn to defend the realms of men.
The order had existed since the Age of Heroes, founded after the first Long Night when the Others were driven back into the frozen darkness. For over eight thousand years, the Night's Watch endured while kingdoms rose and fell around it.
To defend the immense Wall, nineteen castles had once been built along its length.
Each fortress served as a shield against the horrors beyond.
At the western end stood Westwatch-by-the-Bridge, a narrow but towering stronghold perched upon a sheer cliff. Though smaller than most castles, it was among the most defensible structures on the Wall.
At the eastern end stood Eastwatch-by-the-Sea, the Night's Watch's only true port.
There, black-sailed ships rested in icy waters, ranging from long war galleys to broad trading vessels capable of crossing the Narrow Sea. The fleet patrolled the Bay of Seals, intercepting smugglers and preventing weapons from reaching the wildlings.
Fishermen and traders gathered there as well, forming a harsh but lively settlement beneath the Wall's frozen shadow.
And at the center stood Castle Black.
Despite its name, Castle Black was not truly a single castle.
It was a sprawling military settlement composed of ancient wooden halls, stone towers, stables, armories, and barracks. Unlike ordinary castles, it possessed no walls on its southern, eastern, or western sides.
The Wall itself served as its only defense.
Castle Black sat near the center of the Wall at the northern end of the Kingsroad, between Queen's Gate and Oakenshield.
Long ago, during the golden age of the Seven Kingdoms, the Night's Watch had been mighty.
All nineteen castles were fully manned.
Tens of thousands of black brothers guarded the Wall.
Castle Black alone once housed five thousand men, not including servants, horses, smiths, and support workers.
At that time, serving on the Wall was considered an honorable duty among northern noble families. Younger sons often chose to take the black willingly, seeing it as a life of glory and purpose.
The Shield Hall at Castle Black displayed countless noble sigils from ancient houses across Westeros.
Even during Aegon's Conquest, the Night's Watch had remained neutral.
The Lord Commander at the time had been related to Harren the Black himself, yet despite Harrenhal's destruction and the fall of kingdoms, the Watch never interfered in southern wars.
That neutrality became sacred tradition.
After House Martell united Dorne, six defeated kings had been sent to the Wall.
For centuries, the Night's Watch endured every invasion, every rebellion, and every political upheaval.
It survived the fall of the First Men kingdoms.
It survived the Andal invasion.
It survived the rise and fall of dynasties.
Its history stretched even further back than many of the kingdoms themselves.
The honor of the Night's Watch once rivaled the Wall it guarded.
But glory faded with time.
As centuries passed, the monsters beyond the Wall became little more than children's tales.
The harsh northern frontier was forgotten.
By the time of the Baratheon dynasty, nearly three hundred years after Aegon's Landing, only three castles remained active.
The Night's Watch had dwindled to fewer than a thousand men.
No longer filled with noble sons and proud warriors, the order now consisted mostly of criminals, debtors, poachers, thieves, rapists, bastards, and political exiles.
Only a handful still came from noble houses.
And even then, most were sent unwillingly after losing political struggles in the south.
Today, one such man prepared to swear his vows.
Tywin Lannister.
Former Lord of Casterly Rock.
Former Warden of the West.
Former Hand of the King.
Now, merely another recruit preparing to take the black.
Inside the great hall of Castle Black, ravens perched silently among the wooden rafters overhead.
The hall was warm from the heat of several roaring fires, and the smell of fresh stew lingered in the air.
Tywin had just finished breakfast.
Without a word, he stood from the table and reached for his black cloak.
His face remained cold and unreadable, though the years of war and defeat had left deep lines across his features.
Before he could finish dressing, the doors of the hall suddenly burst open.
A blast of freezing wind swept inside alongside a heavily cloaked figure.
Kevan Lannister hurried into the hall with snow covering his shoulders.
Like all the others now serving at the Wall, Kevan wore black.
The northern cold had changed him.
His once-neatly trimmed golden beard had grown thicker for warmth, and the harsh environment had stripped away much of the refinement he once possessed as a southern lord.
The moment he spotted Tywin, Kevan quickly approached.
"Tywin," he called out urgently, holding up a letter. "A raven arrived from King's Landing."
Tywin paused immediately.
At the mention of King's Landing, his pale green eyes narrowed slightly.
Without speaking, he took the letter from Kevan's hand and unfolded it.
There was only a single line written upon the parchment.
The stag is dead.
For several seconds, Tywin stared silently at the words.
Then, slowly, something changed in his expression.
The cold calmness in his eyes deepened.
A faint smile tugged at the corner of his lips—not a pleasant smile, but a cruel and calculating one.
He folded the letter carefully.
"We must prepare," Tywin said quietly.
His voice had become lower and colder than before.
Kevan immediately understood.
Far away in the south, the balance of power had shifted once again.
Outside the hall, the training grounds of Castle Black bustled with activity.
Thousands of men moved through the falling snow, carrying supplies, repairing fortifications, and drilling beneath shouted commands.
High above them, Lord Commander Jeor Mormont stood upon a wooden tower overlooking the castle.
The old bear watched everything carefully.
Since the Lannisters' surrender to the Iron Throne and the arrival of thousands of western soldiers, Castle Black had become busier than at any point during his command.
It was a sight Jeor Mormont had never expected to witness again.
For years, the Night's Watch suffered from crippling shortages of manpower.
Now, suddenly, they possessed more men than they knew how to manage.
Six thousand soldiers had arrived from the Westerlands.
The influx relieved many long-standing problems, but it also created new dangers.
To make use of the reinforcements, Jeor Mormont had immediately ordered the reopening of the sixteen abandoned castles along the Wall.
With the original three active fortresses plus the newly restored ones, the Night's Watch could once again maintain defenses across the entire Wall.
It was the strongest the Watch had been in generations.
Yet despite that, Jeor Mormont remained uneasy.
Too many men had arrived too quickly.
And among them was Tywin Lannister.
Even though the Iron Throne delayed his arrival until after his public trial, giving the realm time to absorb the defeated western armies, Jeor still understood the danger.
Tywin Lannister was not an ordinary man.
Even stripped of titles and power, he remained one of the most dangerous minds in Westeros.
The Lord Commander clasped his gloved hands behind his back.
Originally, he had intended to send rangers northward to investigate the disappearance of Ser Waymar Royce.
But now those plans were delayed.
The sudden arrival of thousands of recruits required constant supervision.
Even Benjen Stark, the First Ranger of the Night's Watch, had been reassigned to oversee the reactivation of abandoned castles.
At least one benefit had come from the reinforcements.
The threat posed by Mance Rayder and the growing wildling movements beyond the Wall had lessened significantly.
For the first time in years, the Night's Watch possessed enough manpower to appear intimidating again.
Still, Jeor could not relax.
Not while rumors of darker things continued to spread beyond the Wall.
Footsteps approached from behind.
"Lord Commander," a familiar voice said.
Jeor turned and saw Benjen Stark climbing the wooden stairs.
"How are the preparations?" Jeor asked immediately.
Whenever recruits officially joined the Night's Watch, they swore sacred vows either in a sept or before a heart tree.
Castle Black possessed a small sept tended by Maester Aemon, but there was no godswood within its grounds.
Those who worshipped the old gods instead traveled into the Haunted Forest, where ancient weirwood trees still stood among the snow.
Today, Tywin Lannister and several others would swear their vows there.
Though only around ten men were taking their oaths, Jeor intentionally chose the heart tree ceremony.
Not out of respect for Tywin's faith.
But as a lesson.
Jeor Mormont understood something clearly:
One day, after his death, Tywin Lannister would almost certainly become Lord Commander of the Night's Watch.
That reality was unavoidable.
And before that happened, Tywin needed to understand what the Night's Watch truly represented.
Honor.
Duty.
Equality among brothers.
At the Wall, past glory meant nothing.
"Everything is ready," Benjen replied with a nod.
"The gate can be opened at any time."
"The brothers are prepared."
Castle Black guarded one of the few passages through the Wall itself.
Unlike the legendary Black Gate hidden beneath the Nightfort—a magical weirwood door capable of speaking—the tunnel beneath Castle Black was entirely practical.
Long, narrow, and heavily fortified, it contained three separate iron gates reinforced with thick oak barriers.
Arrow slits overlooked the passage from hidden positions above.
Every inch of it was designed for defense.
Snow continued falling heavily around them.
Jeor Mormont looked north toward the frozen wilderness beyond the Wall.
"The storm outside will worsen soon," he said quietly.
"But we cannot delay."
His dark eyes hardened.
"Let this southern lion experience the true cold of the North."
"He must learn what this place truly is."
Tywin Lannister had once ruled one of the richest regions in Westeros.
Now he would learn what it meant to live at the end of the world.
Jeor turned back toward Benjen.
"Bring him here."
From today onward…
"Tywin Lannister is our brother."
Advance Chapters avilable on patreon (Obito_uchiha)