The region of Westeros had changed so much. Living in a divided world, one stronger than others. There was a time when we all lived in harmony. We were all equal to each other and there was never a reason to fight each other. We had no wars, no boundaries and all was good. The houses, Stark, Lannister, Baratheon, even the Targaryen lived in peace. But peace never lasts.

Cersei Lannister is a woman not to be reckoned with. She stood tall, her head held high, and a permanent scowl on her face. Her blonde Lannister hair was always held in a fashionable way and her clothes were that of a queen. Her brother Jamie Lannister was all in the same as her. His blonde hair and crude smirk made him all the more dreadful to be around. He was a knight slayer; know throughout the land for his handiwork with a sword. But that is not all he was known for. He had a reputation for sleeping around but a new whisper about him had crossed the region.

He was engaging in intercourse with his sister Cersei.

There were many things that people did that were unholy by god, but intercourse with a sibling was forbidden. The rumor had come from a maid of the Lannister castle, who claimed to have heard them very loudly from her room. She was beheaded the following day, for treason against the Lannister's. That one act had caused uproar in the region of Westeros for this was not the first time that lady Cersei had done an act of ungodliness. She was accused of murdering her husband Robert Baratheon. She had been found innocent but only by the word of her brother was she set free. From then on, everyone was wary around them, fearing they would be beheaded for treason. But the worst was yet to come.

While Cersei and Jamie vehemently denied that they were engaging in intercourse the evidence had already been set, for Cersei had fallen ill, only to come to the conclusion that she was with child. The kingdom went into an uproar. But killing a woman with child was against every law, so she and Jamie remained alive, if only to live to see the birth of their unholy child.

And nine months later, the contractions started. The birth of their child Joffrey Baratheon was a long and painful birth. And the child was not what a normal child should be. Jeffery was born with feral teeth and sharp nails. He was a monster.

And with the child, the disease spread. And the kingdoms fell.

The disease made its way through the region of Westeros and inhabited every willing and unwilling body. Fortunately the disease was not deadly, to most, but once it was inhabited in a body, it was passed down in the cells of any future children. The Lannister's had doomed the region, and there was no cure. The disease was absorbed through the pores of skin and the body fed off of it and the disease thrived in the body. It didn't necessarily hurt the host, but the change was most uncomfortable. The teeth, specifically the incisors, fell from the mouth cavity and the new teeth were grown, but they were sharp and could tear through anything. The nails fell from toes and fingers and new harder, sturdier ones were grown. That was the change from the two of thee types. The third was much worse.

They were called Alpha. They were stronger, faster, angrier, and larger and tended to be more violent. And they were recognized by the smell they let off. Like firewood. Their change was the most painful. They're legs were broken and stretched and muscles were grown in their arms and back. If the disease was given before birth then these changes were spread out through the host's life. Jamie Lannister was an Alpha.

The other two were Beta and Omega. Beta was fairly normal. They're change was minimal and their smell was of the grass of the fair lands. Omega was out of the ordinary. They were small, weaker and never violent. And they were rare. Both, either male or female, could give birth. They were treasured. They were loved. And there was nothing more to that.

And then the war started. The Starks, who by then had inhabited the disease, demanded blood from the Lannister's for their eldest child Sansa, had been close to death due to the disease. And the Targaryens were not far behind. The sky's rained blood for many moons.

The war subsided after the Lannister's gave up their kingdom and were forced out of their home, destined to fend for themselves for putting a curse on their people. To this day, no one has spotted them; many assume they died of starvation or of the cold. But no Lannister would go down without a fight.

Brandon Stark was born in the winter. The night was filled to the brim with pale snow and harsh winds. They rattled the windows and shook the floors. This was the harshest windstorm they had experienced in Winterfell. A pale, sweat covered Catelyn Stark lay bare against the sheets, her large stomach holding her lovely Brandon. She had fallen pregnant eight moons ago and her child was desperate to leave her womb. Catelyn herself was an omega, and hoped her second child would join her, unlike her first, Sansa, who was a Beta.

Her son, Her Brandon Stark, entered the world that early morn, and he was a beautiful Omega. His large, all seeing eyes and round head, and lovely smile made him the loveliest baby Catelyn had ever seen. She had great plans for her son, but for now she held him in her arms, her Alpha, Eddard, looking over her shoulder with calculating eyes, taking in every feature of his only son. A smile graced Eddard's lips, a look of love coming into his eyes. He had hoped for an Alpha son, so he could be like father like son, but an Omega would do just fine. They're eldest daughter Sansa, stood in the shadows, a glower enveloping her face. She wouldn't be getting any more attention now that Bran was here. She already didn't like him.

Far away, in Kings Landing, Rhaella Targaryen was birthing a pale haired Daenerys. Aerys looked on is disgust, he never wanted another child, especially not after the disgrace that was his first son Viserys. Her screams of pain brought him back to reality and he put on a grimace for her while his child left he withered opening. Her high-pitched screams rang throughout the room. His child was paler than the clouds and had a tuft of white hair. She truly was a Targaryen. His son stood by his side, a look of deep thought on his face. His face showed no love for his sister, nor his mother. Speaking of Rhaella, it seemed that shortly after birth, she had stopped breathing. The shrill cry of a child was the only sound in the room.

Though they, Bran and Daenerys, grew up on different sides of Westeros, their lives were not so different. While Bran had his older sister Sansa, who's face resembled that of a disgusted mouse, and who's attitude was twice as worse, Daenerys dealt with Viserys. Viserys was a troubled child, whom had to flee from his home at an early age and care for his young sister, who he would grow to despise more than his mother. Bran and Daenerys were truly not that different.