A blue sky lay above, barely visible through the thick sheets of dark clouds hanging overhead of the vast plains below. Amongst the grass, furrows lay, shallow, and kicked up. Tracks. Hundreds of such paths lay, leading off into the distance, towards the brewing storm. Such numbers rarely traced the lands, and yet were a familiar sight to those at the end of the tracks. To the hundreds of soldiers marching across the fields. Each wondering what the end of this path would lead to. Honour? Glory? Or perhaps answers to the question "What lies beyond". Each thought, each memory, set to the beating of hundreds of steel clad feet, the clacking of horse shoes against weathered rocks. It was as if the skin of the earth itself was opening up under these feet.
The sky followed suite, lighting in a bright flash, followed moments later by a deafening boom, which served to clear each and every mind. The silence in each head was filled instead, by the fresh pattering of rain, rolling off of curved i