A Man Named Xero Chapter 1 A sample If you follow the Northward stream several miles up from the ocean, you will find that special seam between the forest and the desert. Here, where neither time nor man has true ownership, is set the Carollan mountains. looking upwards, just short of the highest precipice, we find the small town of Rosewood. It is a quiet town, full of friendly faces. I speak from experience- for this is the place of my birth. I remember many things about #life in Rosewood, but one of the fondest memories is that of the large oak by the stream. It was there, just outside of town, where I spent many days, just thinking; enjoying #life away from others. And this is where our story truly starts. ~~~~~~~ It was no more than a month into autumn. There I lay beneath the tree, watching the first few leaves fall from the highest branches. I find it hard to remember what I was thinking of at the moment, but I do remember catching a glimpse of a flutter of a few familiar red feathers from a lower branch. 'Hello there, Redfeather.' I called up to my seasonal friend. 'You're here early this year, my friend.' Redfeather, the bird I named for his coloured wings, came to visit every winter. I watched as he hopped about, knocking a few leaves to the ground. Stretching my relaxed arms out to catch a few (something only a trained hand could accomplish- and God knows I had the time to practice), I noticed something odd marked on the leaf falling nearest to me. I caught it and held it closer. There was definitely a mark on this leaf- and an odd one at that. Burnt into the leaf was a small, yet perfect, black, circle. I remember keeping this leaf for later. Propping myself up against the oak, I called up once again to Redfeather, but he had moved on to another tree. After watching him hop about for a short while, I stood, and slowly left. (What time I didn't spend at the creek and under the oak was spent either at home or at our local school. Unlike most typical book characters, my parents were and are still alive, and did not treat me badly in the least.) ~~~~~~~ The next afternoon, I visited the oak again. After a nice long day of relaxing, as the sun was about to set, I remembered my strange leaf from the day before. Propping myself up, I began to study it again. Holding the leaf up to the dying sun, I began to see something even stranger; this was more than a circle. Imbedded into the leaf, invisible to the eye, was a symbol. And that's when I first saw him, a strange, dark silhouette, staring at me, from the opposite edge of the creek.