This is an excellent starting point! The "Old Gods" of Westeros are not deities in the traditional sense, but rather the collective consciousness of the weirwood trees, especially the ancient, blood-drinking heart trees, and the spirits of the forest and the Children of the Forest who commune with them. Arthur, with his Djinn-infused aetherial senses, would perceive them in a truly unique way.
Let's imagine his first direct encounter with this ancient, primal intelligence.
Arthur Leywin: Communion with the Old Gods
Centuries passed. Arthur had woven himself into the subtle fabric of Westeros, a ghost in the shadows, a whisper on the wind. He had observed the Children of the Forest from afar, their reverence for the weirwoods, their strange, guttural songs, their connection to the land that mirrored, in some primal way, his own Aetherial attunement. He sensed a profound, collective consciousness within the weirwood groves, an ancient mind far older than any Asura, a presence that hummed with the raw, untamed magic of this world.
One twilight, drawn by an irresistible pull, he found himself deep within a grove he hadn't yet explored, a place where the weirwood trees were particularly ancient, their faces gnarled and weeping sap like blood. This grove, nestled in a hidden valley in the far North, pulsed with an aetheric energy unlike anything he'd encountered in Westeros. It was raw, unrefined, yet intensely powerful – a network of spiritual arteries connected through the earth itself.
He approached the largest heart tree, its crimson leaves rustling as if in anticipation. The carved face on its trunk was a masterpiece of primal art, its eyes seeming to follow him. As he placed a hand upon its rough, pale bark, a surge of raw aether coursed through him, a feeling akin to plunging into the core of the planet itself.
This was no mere tree. This was a focal point, a nexus, a vast, interconnected mind.
The Vision:
His consciousness expanded, shattering the confines of his physical form. He was no longer Arthur Leywin, the Asuran-Djinn hybrid; he was a fleeting thought within a boundless ocean of awareness. He saw:
* Ancient Earth: Images of the primordial Westeros flashed before his eyes – molten rock cooling, oceans forming, the first plants reaching for the sun. He felt the raw, untamed power of creation.
* The Children's Song: He witnessed the Children of the Forest, not just as individuals, but as an extension of the trees themselves. He saw them carving the faces, singing their songs to the earth, connecting to the very flow of mana (though it wasn't called mana here, but a deeper, more inherent life force). He felt their joy, their sorrow, their reverence.
* The First Men's Arrival: He saw the First Men, arriving across the arm of Dorne, their bronze swords clashing with the Children's obsidian. He felt the pain of the trees as they were cut down, the shock of a world suddenly experiencing destruction on a scale it had never known.
* The Promise of Ice: And then, the true horror. Far in the north, beyond the Wall that did not yet exist, he saw it. A creeping cold, an unnatural silence, the slow, inexorable rise of something ancient and malevolent. It was an energy signature that twisted and corrupted the very aether, a slow decay that threatened to consume all life. He saw the whispers of the Long Night, not as a prophecy, but as a chilling inevitability, a coming darkness that sickened the very world. He understood now why he was here.
The Communion:
No words were spoken, no clear voice resonated. Instead, it was a cascade of pure thought, feeling, and primordial memory, flowing directly into his Djinn-attuned mind via the Aether. It was the collective consciousness of the Old Gods, a vast, ancient intelligence, communicating through images and pure emotional resonance.
* "We see you, Star-Touched. Not of this world, yet deeply woven into its fabric." (A feeling of immense age and knowing)
* "Your power is of the deep places, the unseen currents. You understand what others cannot." (A recognition of his Aetherial nature)
* "The Cold Hand reaches. It is a sickness. It seeks to still the song of life." (A chilling warning, accompanied by the horrific vision of the Others)
* "The pact was broken. The balance shattered. Now, a new force rises from the silence." (A sense of deep sorrow for the past, and an urgent plea for the future)
* "We speak through the earth, through the wind, through the blood of the heart trees. Listen." (An instruction, a plea for him to become their anchor, their champion)
Arthur pulled his hand away, gasping, though he needed no air. The grove seemed to hum with the lingering resonance of the communication. He felt connected to something vast and ancient, burdened with a knowledge that no mortal could comprehend.
He understood now. The "Old Gods" were the very spirit of Westeros, the collective memory and consciousness of its natural magic, and they were desperately calling out for aid. They weren't asking him to worship them, but to partner with them. They recognized the unique power of his Aether and his ancient Asuran strength as the only true counter to the cosmic imbalance approaching.