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Sun approached the Hunter, as he prepared to leave. She held up three small canvas bags. "What's this?' the Hunter asked. "It is for you," she replied, "there is one spell in each bag. Use them only when in danger!" The Hunter took the bags and examined them. "How do I know which spell to use?" he asked. Sun smiled, "the spells will know! Just open one bag for one emergency. The spell will do the rest! Use them wisely!" The Hunter then rode off in the direction of the Black Rock mountains. Deeper into the desert he rode. A black hawk circled overhead. It suddenly swooshed down and landed nearby. "Beware, Hunter!" it cried. "Not you again?!" the Hunter wearily said. The black hawk cawed with laughter then shape-shifted into the hooded man. Mr. Death! "So you now have some spells from the Mystics,eh?" "What's it to you?" the Hunter angrily answered. "Oh, nothing," Death chuckled, "jusy why, I wonder, would you trust those Wizards? I mean, how do you know those spells will work? How do you know the spells might turn against you? How do you know those Mystics weren't an illusion perpetrated by your Smoke Man? How do you know one of them wasn't the Smoke Man himself?" "You ask alot of questions," the Hunter irritatingly replied, "what the hell do you want?" "I just want you to have a healthy dose of skepticism, Hunter! You're too trusting! Just remember, I want you to succeed! My money's riding on you!" The Hunter remembered what the strange boy had said about all of this being just a game! "I'm begining to think this is all a bad dream, Death!" the Hunter said. "You think that, Hunter! Go ahead!" Death replied, "but I assure you this is all too real! To think so otherwise will guarantee your failure!" Death then shifted back into the black hawk and flew away, cawing with laughter. So the Hunter rode on. Deeper and deeper into the desert. Deeper into this warped reality. Deeper into this seemingly surreal dream that was bodering on becoming a nightmare that would never end! Next: Chap. 19 "The Ferryman"