That morning, Aivilo went to church alone.
For the first time in his life, he truly prayed. Sitting on one of the quiet wooden pews, he clutched the rosary given to him by Pastor Paulus, bowed his head, and whispered a prayer for Bryan Wishton. He didn't know if his prayer would be heard, but he did it anyway.
After a while, Aivilo stood up and left the church, feeling slightly lighter. He then headed to the hospital, where his brother, Benedictus, was still being treated.
At the Hospital
When Aivilo entered Benedictus' room, he saw his brother sitting up in bed, looking a bit better. A small smile appeared on Benedictus' face as he saw his younger brother walk in.
"Hey, lazy kid," Benedictus teased.
Aivilo scoffed. "A lazy kid who still bothered to come to this hospital."
They both chuckled. The atmosphere grew warmer as they reminisced about their childhood—the mischief Aivilo used to cause, the silly games they played, and how Benedictus often covered for Aivilo whenever he got into trouble with their parents.
But after a while, their conversation took a serious turn. Benedictus began telling Aivilo about the history of Jesus' sacrifice—how His suffering became a symbol of salvation for mankind. He used simple parables to help Aivilo understand it more deeply.
"There are so many miracles in this world," Benedictus said. "Sometimes, we just don't realize them."
Then, he started talking about his experiences performing exorcisms. His voice grew quieter as if he were sharing a secret meant only for certain ears.
"I've seen many things, Aivilo. Things that can't be explained by human logic. There's darkness out there, and you must know that prayer is the most powerful weapon," he said, looking at Aivilo with a serious expression.
Aivilo listened carefully. He couldn't deny that after everything that had happened to him lately, there was something greater than just the physical world.
After that, the atmosphere calmed down. Aivilo picked up the Bible near the hospital bed and started reading it, even though it still felt unfamiliar to him. Meanwhile, Benedictus slowly ate his porridge, occasionally glancing at Aivilo and smiling.
As if he saw something in his younger brother—something Aivilo had yet to realize himself.
That night, Aivilo continued reading the Bible.
The words felt foreign to him, yet there was something oddly calming about them. As he flipped through the pages, Benedictus suddenly took off the bracelet he had been wearing—a simple but old-looking beaded bracelet.
"Here," Benedictus said, handing it to Aivilo.
Aivilo raised an eyebrow. "What's this for?"
Benedictus smiled weakly. "Think of it as protection. Or a reminder."
Aivilo hesitated for a moment before taking the bracelet. It felt warm in his hand, as if it had been worn for years. Without another word, he slipped it onto his wrist.
Benedictus let out a tired sigh and rested his head against the pillow. Within minutes, his breathing slowed, and he drifted into sleep.
Aivilo glanced at him for a while, making sure he was resting peacefully. Then, he placed the Bible on the small table beside the hospital bed and stretched his arms. He was exhausted.
Instead of leaving, he lay down on the small sofa in the room, adjusting himself into a comfortable position. He looked at the bracelet on his wrist once more before closing his eyes.
That night, with the bracelet on his wrist and the faint sound of hospital monitors in the background, Aivilo fell asleep, unaware of what awaited him in the days to come.
That morning, Aivilo woke up to the monotonous beeping of the monitor.
He blinked, trying to adjust to the morning light streaming in through the window. But when he turned toward the bed, his heart nearly stopped.
Benedictus lay still—too still. His face was peaceful, but his skin looked unnaturally pale.
"Benedictus?" Aivilo's voice was hoarse.
He immediately moved closer, shaking his brother's body in panic. "Benedictus! Wake up! This isn't funny!"
No response.
His heart pounded as he continued shaking Benedictus, but all he felt was the cold creeping over his skin.
Suddenly, the door swung open. A nurse entered with a doctor, quickly assessing the situation.
Aivilo was still holding onto his brother's shoulders when someone pulled him away. "Wait! Don't touch him! He can still wake up! I know he can—"
But the doctor only lowered his head. The nurse gently pulled Aivilo back from the bed, then closed the door behind them.
Outside the room, Aivilo stood frozen, staring through the glass, his eyes brimming with tears. His chest rose and fell rapidly, a storm of emotions raging inside him—anger, sorrow, disbelief.
Frustrated, he kicked the wall beside him, then ran his hands through his hair. His breathing was heavy, his chest tight.
Moments later, the doctor stepped out with a solemn expression. "We will take him to the morgue," he said simply.
Aivilo said nothing. He just stared ahead, his eyes vacant.
As Benedictus' body was taken to the morgue, Aivilo followed behind, his steps heavy. When they arrived, he could no longer hold back his grief. He collapsed to his knees beside his brother's lifeless body, sobbing uncontrollably.
"Am I going crazy?" he whispered, his voice barely audible before he started slapping his own face, harder each time.
Then, he reached for Benedictus' cheek, holding it tightly. "Come on… Wake up… You can't just leave like this… You promised you'd stay, didn't you?"
Still, no answer.
His tears kept falling as his body grew weaker. He sank onto the cold floor, pounding it with his fists before letting out a scream—a scream filled with grief, loss, and unbearable pain.
The next day, the funeral service was held in the church.
The air was thick with sorrow, the faint scent of incense filling the space as the priest spoke solemn prayers. Mourners sat in silence, their heads bowed. Candles flickered gently, casting a warm but somber glow over the altar.
Aivilo stood frozen near the casket, his eyes empty as he stared at his brother's peaceful face one last time. He barely heard the words of the priest. Everything felt distant, like a dream—or more like a nightmare he couldn't wake up from.
Then, from the corner of his eye, he saw a figure approaching.
His mother.
She had traveled a long way from their home country, and now she stood beside him, her expression unreadable. But Aivilo could see the pain in her eyes.
Without a word, she reached out, gripping his hand tightly.
Aivilo didn't react at first. He wanted to be strong. He wanted to hold everything in. But as soon as his mother's warmth reached him, something inside him cracked.
Tears welled up in his eyes.
For the first time since Benedictus' death, he let himself lean into her, resting his head against her shoulder.
His mother didn't say anything—she just held him.
And in that silent embrace, Aivilo finally let himself grieve.
At the cemetery, the sky was overcast, as if mourning along with them.
The red soil had been dug, and the coffin was slowly being lowered into the grave. The rustling leaves, carried by the wind, blended with the quiet sobs of the mourners.
Aivilo stood at the edge of the grave, his body tense. He bit his lip, trying to hold back his tears. But the moment the soil was poured over the coffin, his resolve shattered.
His cries broke out.
He screamed, calling Benedictus' name over and over. His breath came in ragged gasps, his chest tightening. His hands trembled, reaching for something that was no longer there.
Several people tried to hold him back, pulling at his arms to move him away, but Aivilo was too strong. He resisted, staying in place, unwilling to say goodbye.
"BENEDICTUS!!!"
His wails grew louder. His knees weakened, and he collapsed onto the ground. His eyes were swollen with tears, his face flushed, his chest rising and falling rapidly.
His heart screamed—louder than his voice, louder than anything in the silent cemetery.
The rain fell gently, as if mourning alongside them. The soil around the grave grew damp, absorbing every tear that landed upon it. Aivilo remained kneeling before the open grave, his hands clutching the cold, wet earth.
His mother approached, trying to pull him into an embrace. "Aivilo… enough, my son…" her voice trembled.
But Aivilo shook his head violently, his breath unsteady. "Why… why did it have to be him?" he whispered, his voice broken. "He was the best among us… the strongest… why did it have to be him?"
Father Paulus stood nearby, gripping his cross tightly. "God has a plan, Aivilo…" he said gently.
Aivilo lifted his gaze, his eyes red and filled with rage. "A plan?!" his voice cracked with fury. "Was it His plan to take my brother away?! I can't accept that!"
The funeral attendees slowly began to leave after the ceremony ended, but Aivilo remained, frozen in place before the grave that was now being filled with earth.
Moments later, as the rain subsided, Aivilo finally stood up. His clothes and hands were covered in mud, his hair soaked, his face pale. He stared at his brother's name, now etched in stone, before touching the bracelet Benedictus had given him.
Aivilo stood on the balcony, gazing at the city lights flickering in the distance. The cool night breeze brushed against his face, yet it did little to ease the storm raging inside him.
Behind him, his mother approached quietly, her voice soft yet filled with concern. "Will you come back home?" she asked, standing beside him.
Aivilo didn't turn to face her. His grip on the balcony railing tightened slightly. "No," he answered firmly. "Benedictus's grave is here. I won't leave him alone." His voice carried a quiet determination.
His mother sighed, understanding the weight of his pain. "I see…" she murmured, looking down for a moment before continuing. "You know, you don't have to stay here just for that. You have your own life to live."
Aivilo let out a dry chuckle, shaking his head. "I also have work tomorrow. I've been on leave for too long."
His mother studied him carefully, noticing the exhaustion in his eyes. She wanted to say more, to convince him to take time to grieve properly, but she knew Aivilo. Once he made a decision, he wouldn't change his mind so easily.
Silence stretched between them, only the distant sounds of the city filling the air. After a while, his mother finally spoke again. "Alright… just promise me one thing."
Aivilo turned to her, waiting.
"Don't bury yourself in grief," she said softly, reaching up to brush his damp hair away from his face. "Benedictus wouldn't want that for you."
Aivilo looked at her, his expression unreadable. Then, slowly, he nodded.
Even if he couldn't let go of his grief, he would move forward. Because something inside him told him that his journey wasn't over yet.
Aivilo remained on the balcony, letting the night breeze brush against his face. His hand lifted, gazing at the bracelet Benedictus had given him before passing away. The dim city lights reflected off the metal surface, making it seem more than just an accessory.
He ran his thumb over it, feeling every curve and small engraving. It was as if a final trace of his brother still lingered within the bracelet. Memories of them together resurfaced—laughter, small arguments, Benedictus' advice, and all the moments that were now only in the past.
Aivilo clenched the bracelet tightly and took a deep breath. "You were right, brother... I really can't run from this."
His eyes drifted to the sky. The night was peaceful, offering him a moment to reflect. But deep inside, he knew his life would never be the same again.
Then, faintly, a whisper reached his ears. It wasn't the menacing voices he had heard before. This was softer, almost like Benedictus' voice itself.
"Your path is still long, Aivilo. Don't stop here."
Aivilo froze. He wasn't sure if it was just his own thoughts speaking or something beyond his understanding. But one thing was certain—he couldn't remain trapped in grief forever.
He let out another breath, deeper this time. Then, slowly, he stepped back inside the apartment, leaving the endless night outside to continue on its own.
As Aivilo stepped into his room, he immediately stopped in his tracks. Two figures stood before him—tall, radiant, and otherworldly. The dim light from his bedside lamp barely illuminated them, yet their presence filled the entire space with an unexplainable aura.
Aivilo's instincts kicked in. Without hesitation, he shifted into a defensive stance, his body tensed. "Who are you? What are you doing here? Are you demons taking the form of my friends?"
The two celestial beings remained calm. One of them, the taller one with piercing golden eyes, took a step forward. "We are Leahkim and Leirbag. Demons cannot take our form."
The other, with silver-white wings faintly visible behind his back, nodded solemnly. "We have come with no ill intent. We are here to offer our condolences, Aivilo."
Aivilo's hands clenched into fists, his mind racing. "Condolences? For Benedictus?" His voice was thick with grief and suspicion.
Leahkim inclined his head slightly. "His time in the mortal world has ended, but his soul is at peace."
Aivilo felt a lump in his throat. He wanted to scream, to reject their words, to demand why his brother had to die. But deep down, he knew that nothing could change the past.
Leirbag's gaze softened. "You carry a heavy burden now, Aivilo. But you are not alone. We are watching over you."
Aivilo let out a shaky breath, his emotions swirling between anger, sorrow, and an odd sense of comfort. He lowered his guard but kept his gaze locked on them. "Then tell me… why do I feel like this is only the beginning?"
The two celestial beings exchanged glances before Leahkim answered, "Because it is."
At that moment, the angels with silver-white wings suddenly disappeared, leaving only Leahkim and Leirbag standing there. However, something was different—their wings were also gone, and now they were dressed in simple white robes.
Aivilo raised an eyebrow, still wary. "What are you doing?"
Leahkim gave a small smile, while Leirbag looked a bit more serious. "We will disguise ourselves as humans and assist you."
Aivilo squinted at them, scanning them from head to toe. "Oh yeah? In that case, you'll need more normal clothes. Wait here."
He walked over to his closet, pulled the doors open, and started rummaging through his clothes. After a few seconds, he pulled out some casual t-shirts and jeans. "Here. Wear these."
Leahkim took the clothes with curiosity, while Leirbag stared at them as if he had just been given an unsolvable riddle. "How do I put this on?" he asked innocently.
Aivilo sighed, covering his face with one hand. "Oh my God… I forgot you guys aren't human."
Leahkim chuckled softly and quickly figured out how to put the clothes on. Meanwhile, Leirbag tried to shove both of his legs through the armholes of the t-shirt, getting stuck and nearly falling to the floor.
Aivilo stared at him in disbelief. "Seriously?"
Leirbag blinked in confusion. "I don't understand. Why are human clothes so complicated?"
Shaking his head, Aivilo stepped in to help them. "Alright, first lesson: humans wear clothes properly, not like a sack."
Once they were dressed, Aivilo stepped back to examine them. Leahkim looked fairly normal, but Leirbag still had a stiff expression as if this was some kind of sacred mission.
Aivilo let out another long sigh. "This is going to be a long day."
Leahkim smiled and nodded. "Okay, so your duty, Mr. Tebasile, is to assist in the healing of those afflicted by demons or possessed—that means performing exorcisms with Pastor Paulus."
Aivilo raised an eyebrow. "Wait a minute… you know my full name?"
Leirbag crossed his arms and looked annoyed. "Of course we do! We're your guardian angels, for heaven's sake!"
Aivilo blinked. "Huh. I didn't even know I had guardian angels."
Leahkim chuckled. "We don't usually introduce ourselves, but given the circumstances… we figured it was time."
Aivilo rubbed his temples. "Great. Now I have angels following me around. What's next? A talking cat?"
Leirbag muttered under his breath. "Tch, ungrateful human…"
Aivilo rolled his eyes. "So what exactly are you guys going to do? Just float around me looking holy?"
Leahkim smiled warmly. "No, we will assist you. You might not believe it, but you have a role in this battle against darkness. Pastor Paulus needs a strong assistant, and you have a connection to the spiritual world."
Aivilo sighed. "Yeah, great. Sounds totally fun. Can't wait to wrestle with demons and ghosts."
Leirbag smirked. "Don't worry, we'll make sure you don't die… at least, not too quickly."
Aivilo shot him a glare. "Wow. So reassuring."
Leahkim clapped his hands. "Alright then! Let's get you ready. You have a big mission ahead of you."
Aivilo groaned and flopped onto his bed. "Yeah, yeah… just let me sleep first. If demons can wait, so can you guys."
Leahkim and Leirbag exchanged glances before shrugging. "Fine. But be ready, Aivilo. The real battle starts soon."
Aivilo lay down on his bed, trying to ignore the fact that he now had two angels wandering around his room.
Suddenly, Leirbag lay down beside him casually.
Aivilo glanced at him and scoffed. "Can you guys even sleep?"
Leirbag yawned dramatically. "Not really... but I want to experience what it's like to be fully human."
Leahkim, still standing in the corner of the room, facepalmed. "Leirbag, we are angels. We don't need sleep, food, or..."
Leirbag turned to him lazily. "Yeah, yeah, I know. But if we're going to disguise ourselves as humans, we have to be fully committed, right?"
Aivilo rolled his eyes. "Fully committed, my foot. If you can sleep, does that mean tomorrow morning you'll stretch and yawn too?"
Leirbag grinned. "Worth a try."
Leahkim let out a long sigh and sat on a chair. "Aivilo, get some rest. Tomorrow, you have an important task."
Aivilo huffed, pulling his blanket over himself. "Yeah, yeah… as long as no demons break in, I can sleep peacefully."
Leirbag chuckled. "If one does, I'll handle it. With a pillow."
Aivilo groaned loudly. "You two are way too weird for angels."
Leahkim smiled. "And you're weird for a human."
With that, Aivilo finally closed his eyes, trying to sleep, while beside him, Leirbag remained lying down with a satisfied smile, enjoying his 'human experience' for the first time.