Deep down beneath the roots of an old oak tree where sunlight
almost never reached, a fire crackled peacefully. Hanging above the fire
whistled an old iron teapot. A weather-beaten cloak hung on a peg near the
door. Into that dimly lit room walked Aubrey Meriwether. His long hair, which
normally remained hidden under his pointy hat, was pulled back and tied in a
sort of a pony-tail. He stroked his long red beard with each step. Aubrey Meriwether’s
life was utterly unremarkable. He read unremarkable books. He had unremarkable
friends. He worked an unremarkable job. But all that would change when one
night he would see a flutter on a darkened fencepost…
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