Once Angela seemed to calm down she slipped into a peaceful sleep. Seizing the opportunity, the Wizard gently placed Angela's hand on the bed and slipped out the front door with the Necronomicon under one arm. He could tell from the feel of the night air that it was a little past two in the morning. Quickly he surveyed his surroundings and spotted a cluster of big, sturdy wooden crates. Lucky for him, Angela's home wasn't very tall, and it took the Wizard hardly any time to stack the crates on the side of the house, creating a makeshift staircase leading to the roof. Silently he ascended and glided across the shingles to the perfect spot to watch the stars and moon. He leaned back and cracked open the grimoire.

At first he flicked through most of the book; words like "Ninib", "Luggaldimmerankia", and "Mer Sidi" popped out at him as he scanned. One title did stick out to him: "II. The Abominations". The mere fact that there were creatures heinous enough to be grouped under this label made his stomach churn. He began to read. It spoke of "the terrible offspring of the Ancient Ones", and how they may only be called upon by a priest. Somehow he doubted Perry had the authority or the desire to raise any sort of hideous creatures bent on destruction. A priest? What does that mean? A thin layer of perspiration developed on the surface of his skin as he read on.

He began to have doubts about Angela's plan the further he delved into the book. Sacrifices were to be made, rituals followed out perfectly, asking favors from such malevolent-sounding specters as Ninkharsag, the Queen of the Demons. Although the mention of calling forth an offspring of the Ancient Ones caused Cthulu to quiver in fear, which did seem appealing considering what Inazin had in store, an ominous warning caused him to have second thoughts: those not formerly initiated as priests who dare summon these (as the book put it) abominations will face dire consequences. The book offered no detailed explanation as to what these consequences were, but considering the stigma that followed this book around like a thunder cloud he felt he could safely assume nothing good would come from it.

Inazin called forth Cthulu successfully...he must be a priest. And a powerful one at that if he's able to keep such a monstrosity hidden for so long...

The Wizard sat the book next to his leg and stared listlessly into the stars. The Ancient Ones... Through many magical circles many whispered, and only whispered, about these entities. In the past, when the Wizard had first heard the term "The Ancient Ones", mentioned in many folklore. He asked a well-versed magician for any information he may have on the subject. He, like so many others, took a quick glance around, and whispered to the Wizard of those who supposedly created the universe and its creatures, and who planned to destroy all that they made should their slumber be disturbed for any reason.

"Where do they sleep?" The Wizard had asked, trying to keep his voice hushed.

The magician looked uncertain, as if he did not know how to articulate a satisfactory answer without enduring some sort of punishment. Finally, he answered: "Beneath the ocean, under the earth, and among the stars."

"Grendel," little Angela groaned, her fever subsiding but still the effects of her illness lingered. She opened her eyes, but was all alone in the cave. In the distance, through the cave's mouth, atop a hill of sand stood a familiar figure: Grendel, having abandoned her recently adorned cat form and reverted back to her human-shaped one.

Grains of sand stirred in the wind and circled around her friend's body, her long auburn hair waving like a flag. She wore the trademark black cloak all three of Angela's grandfather's pupils wore, with her name spelled along the right sleeve in an ancient runic language. Grendel was unmoving, her eyes fixated on something that must have laid at the foot of the dune. Weakly, Angela crawled out of the cave and up the dune where Grendel stood. Sadly, she did not hear the seven-year-old approach, and as she tried to turn around and scoop the little girl up to hide from her the thing in the sand, she was too late. Angela's eyes saw what Grendel had been staring at, and her already pale skin grew even paler as she began to shriek with everything her still infected little lungs had.

"I see," muttered the Harvest Goddess, her head bent and her eyes closed as she lost herself in thought. Grendel, in turn, hung her own head.

"We had no intention of deliberately disobeying your wish for us not to go to the top of the Garmon Mines. We only went to look, no magic or summoning was involved," she paused, remembering Inazin. "Please, forgive us."

"All things considered, no harm was done. Angela just couldn't resist taking a peek at those ruins, could she?" The Goddess smiled kindly at the black cat.

"No, even more so when interrogating the villagers about the specifics concerning those ruins lead her nowhere," she shook her head, feeling a mixture of sadness and amusement. "But what troubles me the most is the audacity she had to even suggest using the Necronomicon to defeat our old friend." A sense of bitterness began to return to Grendel.

The Goddess nodded. "What do you know about this young man?"

Grendel considered it. Did she ever really know anything about him, even back then? "He's a necromancer who dabbled with the archaic magic found in the Necronomicon, thus shattering his once stable psychological state. He summoned The Ancient One known as Cthulu and has hidden it somewhere until he finally decides to use its power to destroy the world. He seems fixated on showing Angela and I specifically Cthulu's destructive power."

"Why?" The Goddess inquired, her face troubled.

That was indeed the question. Grendel conjured up as many memories as she could from a time that seemed like a dream to her now. "I can only offer what little he mentioned before he was convinced to use the Necronomicon."

"'Convinced'? By whom?"

Grendel swallowed hard. While remembering those happy times in the cave were painful, the true fiend behind this whole mess with Inazin and Cthulu brought on an immense amount of misery. After all, she and Corona were to be married not long before Inazin took a turn for the worse. "A man named Corona. He was not a student of Angela's grandfather Simon; in fact, by all appearance, and from what he told us, he had no magical abilities at all..."

"But?" The Goddess prompted.

"He was a liar. He was just a liar..." That was as far as Grendel's heart would allow her to go, for now. The pain was clearly visible on her face, and the Goddess decided to drop that subject.

"I'm sorry," was all the Goddess could think to say before turning away from Grendel to concentrate on her magical waters and allow her visitor to grieve in (somewhat) privacy.

The intensity of the sunlight and the harsh heat radiating from the roof's surface pried the Wizard's eyes open. He blinked his eyes rapidly before he realized night somehow turned into day without his noticing. How did I fall asleep? He groped around his legs, hoping to pick up the Necronomicon and return it indoors. However, it seemed to have disappeared. Suddenly, a mushroom dropped down from the air and landed in front of his feet.

"Hey, sleepy head!" Came Angela's voice. The Wizard stood and walked to the roof's edge. She was standing near her turnip patch, which had grown in considerable size over the past few days, her arm full of brown mushrooms. Vivi sat apathetically at her feet.

"Angela..." He took a step and hopped down and landed with the grace of a professional gymnast. Angela was not impressed as she pulled back her right hand and socked him in the arm. To his surprise it hurt.

"Why did you do that?" He asked, rubbing his injury. Vivi was all too pleased by the display.

"Because when I woke up and you were nowhere to be seen I thought you dumped me. I come outside to see you snoozing and slobbering all over my roof." She dropped the mushrooms into her shipping bin.

"How could I have dumped you? I've never actually lifted you up before except when I brought you home the other day..."

"Oh ha ha, very fun-" she saw his face to see he was all business. She slapped her hand to her forehead. "I didn't mean you literally dumped me, I just thought you left for home."

"But I told you I wouldn't."

"People can change their minds."

"I'm not a person..."

That last comment left Angela speechless. The only logical reaction she could formulate was to reel back and slug him again in the same arm.

He rubbed his wounded limb more fervently. "Please don't do that."

"Then stop acting like a complete doofus!" She shouted. The Wizard recoiled, looking confused. Angela decided it best to elaborate. "You are a person. You feel emotions, when you're cut you bleed like everyone else. Sure, you may not age like a regular human, and you have mystical abilities, but people care about you! That makes you a person." She shoved her rusty watering can into his arms.

"What's this for?"

"You're going to water my plants as punishment." She turned and opened her front door a crack; Vivi wiggled inside.

"Punishment for what?" He asked before she slammed the door shut.

"For making my hand hurt."

He looked down at the empty watering can. It seemed fair.