Slowly, you rouse yourself. An irrational haze clouds your vision and understanding. Non coherent thoughts scramble around in your head, working to come together to form some level of recollection. Each step bears with it a sobering quality. The ground begins to come into view as it slowly passes by. You find yourself walking…. Walking down a beaten path within a large group. They have tattered cloths working as makeshift clothing. Most of them are just staring at the ground, slowly trudging along, no different than you. Looking a little bit farther you see men on horseback clad in armor. They lead the way forward and bring up the rear. As you try to recollect, giving understanding to your situation, location, family, friends…. Nothing comes to mind. A fear starts to creep up on you. Nothing comes to mind. As you scramble in your thoughts, trying to remember anything, the only thing you are able to clearly recall is a name….

The Marked Ones

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