4th Day of the Eighth Moon, 281 AC – The Kingsroad
The banners had been raised. Wolves, stags, falcons, and soon fish as well. The war songs rang out in mead halls, and young men boasted of the heads they would take for their lords.
But on the roads, it was not war songs that filled the air. It was crying children, clattering wagons, the wails of mothers trying to quiet babes as they fled the march of armies.
Jin Mu-Won walked among them.
His staff tapped steadily on the packed earth as he moved beside a creaking cart, its wheel threatening to splinter beneath the weight of the family's meager belongings. A boy clung to the side, eyes wide with fear. His mother murmured to him, but her hands shook.
"Breathe," Jin said gently as he came to her side. "The road is long, but your heart will carry you farther if you let your breath guide it."
The woman looked up, startled, but Jin's calm gaze steadied her. He placed one hand lightly upon the cart. With a flick of qi, subtle and unseen to most, the broken axle groaned but held firm. The cart rolled on, steadier than before.
The boy's eyes widened. "Did you fix it, ser?"
Jin smiled faintly. "It will hold. Walk on, and keep your head high."
Around them, others murmured. Some whispered the name already spreading like fire — the Nameless Shield. Others only stared, too weary to question.
---
That evening, the column of refugees camped by the edge of the woods. Smoke from distant torches stained the sky to the south — the advance of Robert's host. Behind them, rumors spoke of crown loyalists sweeping villages bare to deny rebels supplies.
Jin sat by the fire, his staff across his knees, listening to the sound of restless breath all around him.
Ned Stark approached quietly, his face lined with the weight of command he had not sought but could not refuse. He crouched beside Jin, watching the flames.
"They follow the banners," Ned said at last. "But when armies march, it is always the smallfolk who pay the price. I swore to fight for Lyanna's freedom, but at times I wonder if I should not have sworn to fight only for these people instead."
Jin's gaze was calm, his voice long, deliberate. "Do not divide the two, Ned Stark. If you fight for your sister but forget these families, then your cause will rot from within. If you fight for them but leave your sister to her fate, your heart will rot from guilt. Fight for both. That is the only oath that will not break you."
Ned studied him, his eyes reflecting firelight. "You speak as though you've carried such oaths before."
Jin looked away, the memory of burning villages and broken sects flickering in his mind. His voice was quiet, heavy. "I carried them until my bones gave way. I broke beneath their weight once, and yet I rise again in a world not my own. Perhaps I was sent here because I had not yet learned that to carry the world, one must first teach others to carry it too."
Ned was silent for a long moment. Then he said, "You sound like a lord, though you deny it."
Jin chuckled softly, shaking his head. "No. Lords command. Shields endure. I am the latter, and will be until my breath ends."
---
At dawn, the column moved again. They passed through villages where men had been taken for levies, leaving only women and children to gather grain. In one hamlet, fires still smoldered, the air stinking of ash.
Bandits prowled there, stragglers who had followed the chaos of war. When they saw the refugees, they grinned, blades flashing.
Jin stepped forward.
The first man lunged, rusty sword raised. Jin's staff flicked, not striking his body but the hilt, a jolt of qi surging. The blade flew from his hand, clattering into the mud. Another rushed him, but Jin's foot snapped into his chest, qi carrying through the strike. The man flew back, tumbling into his fellows.
The bandits hesitated, unnerved. Jin's voice rang out, deep and resonant.
"You prey upon those who cannot fight. That is not the way of wolves or stags or dragons. It is the way of vermin. Leave now, and live. Stay, and you will learn what becomes of vermin."
They fled.
Behind him, the refugees stared in awe. Children whispered. Mothers wept in relief. Ned, who had ridden ahead but returned at the commotion, looked on with quiet respect.
"You speak softly," Ned said. "But when you strike, even the cruelest men listen."
Jin leaned on his staff, his eyes scanning the faces of the people he shielded. "Cruel men understand only two things: fear, or mercy. Fear breaks them. Mercy shames them. If they flee, then mercy has done its work."
Ned's lips pressed tight, but he nodded. "You give them more than swords ever could. You give them hope."
---
By the time they reached Moat Cailin, more families had joined their column, drawn by word of the Nameless Shield. A host of lords gathered there as well, preparing to march south to join Robert's war.
The lords argued long into the night — about supply, about marches, about honor and glory. Jin did not sit among them. He sat with the smallfolk outside the walls, helping a mother soothe her fevered child with qi, steadying an old man's failing breath.
And as the wind carried the sound of lords shouting oaths, Jin whispered instead to the weary around him.
"Rest. The road is long, but you are not alone. So long as I walk beside you, no fire will take you."
The words spread, not shouted, but carried from mouth to mouth like the gentlest of prayers.
---
In the South, Robert swore oaths of blood. In the Vale, Jon Arryn raised armies. In King's Landing, Aerys raved and Elia wept.
But in the muddy camps along the Kingsroad, a nameless man with a staff walked among the forgotten, shielding them where no lords did.
And to the frightened children who looked up at him as though he were more than mortal, Jin Mu-Won simply smiled, his voice gentle.
"I am no lord. No knight. I am only a man. But I will not let the storm take you."
And so the rebellion spread not only on the fields of war, but also in the quiet hearts of the people who whispered of the Shield who stood for them when none else would.