Texas was the largest state in the American South and an iconic representation of American culture.
Cowboys, ranches, Texas Rangers, bounty hunters, and wanted outlaws made up the famous Western culture.
Curiously, when early Spanish explorers discovered and named the land, they mistakenly used a word from the indigenous Hasna people: "Tejas."
It meant "friends."
In an unnamed cemetery somewhere in Texas, a thin, tall old man wearing a gray-white cowboy hat with a wide brim dug a new grave with a shovel. Every so often, he puffed out his cheeks, coughed hoarsely, and spat.
His hair and bushy beard had both turned gray, and he had little flesh on his bones, though he was very tall.
"Been a while. Nearly two hundred years, Sorcerer."
Hearing the strange crackling behind him, the gravedigger didn't turn around. He seemed to know exactly who had arrived at the old cemetery on the outskirts of this remote town. He spat a mouthful of phlegm into the freshly dug grave and continued in his thick Texas drawl:
"What brings you here? I've always kept to the rules, haven't I?"
The slender but tall sorcerer in purple waved away the portal and stood with her hands behind her back.
"A trace of will from Limbo projected into this world. I came to check on the state of the contract."
"Hah!"
The gravedigger scoffed. "With the Sorcerer Supreme's magic protecting it, the dimension lords haven't been able to set foot here for hundreds of years. Even the ancient myths have gradually faded away. What power could possibly get in?"
The Sorcerer Supreme paced lightly. Though there was always an air of otherworldliness about her words and manner, she didn't seem stiff or ethereal.
"Something went wrong recently, and a gap opened in the barrier. I followed