For the third time that morning, Yllona groaned loudly and buried her fingers in her hair.
"Ugh—why is there NOTHING?" she cried in frustration.
She had been researching information about the painting for two days straight, surviving on caffeine and sheer panic. She was digging for any sign of other copies—whether a restored version, one kept in another museum, or owned by a private collector. But… still nothing. No clues, no records, no hints—nothing that could help Aecus return. The only information she could find was about the title, the story behind the painting, and the author's name—exactly what she already knew when she first started working at the museum. Even the details about the author were extremely limited.
Exhausted, she dragged herself out of her room and searched for him. She found him in a quiet corner of the living room… staring at the ruined painting on the floor.
But something was different.
Yllona froze.
His long white hair had turned pure black. His wolf ears—gone. His tail—gone.
"What… happened to you?" she asked carefully.
Aecus looked at her with a sadness that made her chest tighten.
"Because I have stayed too long in your world," he said quietly, "my wolf abilities are fading."
Yllona's heart dropped.
"Oh, Aecus…" She stepped closer. "Don't worry. I'll find a way to help you return to your home. I promise."
Aecus gently took her hand.
"Thank you."
Her breath caught.Her heart skipped—then raced uncontrollably.She quickly pulled her hand back and looked away, her face suddenly warm.
"Uh…I need to go grocery shopping. Want to come with me?"
Aecus immediately brightened, bouncing on his feet like an excited child.
"Yes! Yes!"
She decided it was safer to bring him along. Leaving him alone at the condo was a recipe for disaster—and broken appliances.
"Oh, right. Do you even know what a grocery is?" she asked.
He blinked. "No."
Yllona sighed. Right. He was a wolf spirit with zero knowledge about the human world.
.....
Yllona tied up Aecus's now-black hair and pulled a bonnet over it. She gave him a plain white shirt and black jogging pants—her only masculine clothes. And slippers.
While they walked through the grocery store, she kept glancing at him. He looked human enough now, and he was so cute—especially when he showed that amazed expression on his face while looking around. He looked like a child who had just been brought to an amusement park.
He stared at everything—aisles, shelves, products, lights—with wide, fascinated eyes.
"Do you want ice cream?" she asked.
He nodded eagerly.
She bought one and let him taste it. His eyes widened again. It was so delicious!
He loved it so much he ended up buying three more. Yllona couldn't help laughing.
As they walked, Aecus spoke with awe, "Your world is strange. Boxes that talk. Strings of tiny stars. Stairs that move on their own."
Yllona laughed harder."You mean the radio, Christmas lights, and escalator?"
Aecus nodded seriously.
She noticed ice cream smeared on his lips. Before she could think about it, she pulled a handkerchief from her pocket and wiped his mouth gently.
Aecus stiffened.
A strange warmth bloomed inside his chest—fast, powerful, overwhelming. He pressed a hand to his heart. What was this?
Their eyes met.They both quickly looked away.
Aecus lightly smacked his own head. "Strange… this feeling…"
"Did you say something?" Yllona asked.
He shook his head rapidly. "No."
She smiled and tugged him toward the exit. "Let's go home."
.
.
.
Back at the condo, Yllona was doing laundry when she noticed Aecus poking at the washing machine bubbles with fascination.
"Aecus, don't— they'll spill everywhere!"
He grinned mischievously.
Before she could stop him, he splashed water onto her.
"What the—Hey!" she gasped.
Yllona grabbed a dipper of water and threw it at him in return.
Aecus yelped.Then laughed.
And the chase began.
They ran around the condo, slipping, dodging, splashing each other with water like children who had just discovered playtime.
When they finally tired, they collapsed onto the sofa, breathless and laughing.
Aecus looked up at the ceiling, smiling softly."You know… this is my first time playing like this. The Goddess was too strict when I was young."
"Really? Was she punishing you?" Yllona asked.
"No. But she scolded me often," he said with a shrug.
Aecus shifted closer—then rested his head on her lap.
Yllona froze.
"I have never felt freedom like this…" he whispered.
Her breath caught. The moment felt too intimate, too fragile.
"But if you stay here too long," she whispered back, "you'll lose your powers… right?"
Aecus nodded. "Yes. If I stay much longer… I might die."
Yllona felt something strike her heart.
Die?
She stared at him—this strange, gentle, innocent creature who suddenly felt far too precious.
No.No. She wouldn't let that happen.
She clenched her fists.
"I'll find a way," she whispered fiercely. "I won't let you die. I'll do everything to help you return to the painting."
Aecus quietly watched Yllona as she slept, her soft breaths rising and falling like waves. His gaze lingered on her delicate features, and he realized—he had feelings for her. Feelings he could no longer ignore.
Then his eyes drifted toward the broken painting. Hesitantly, he stepped closer and placed a trembling hand on the torn canvas.
"What should I do, beloved Goddess…" he whispered, his voice thick with emotion.
A sudden, sharp tightening gripped his chest. He staggered, knocking over a flower vase. The crash echoed through the room.
Yllona woke with a start, alarm immediately flooding her senses. She saw him struggling to breathe and panic gripped her heart.
"Aecus! What's happening to you?" she asked, rushing to his side.
Supporting him onto the sofa, she watched as the strange pressure in his chest slowly eased.
"It's… a sign," he said softly, voice strained. "Page by page, my body… is fading."
Yllona felt tears sting her eyes. She wanted to cry—but not for herself. She couldn't bear the thought of losing Aecus, especially now that she realized her own heart had betrayed her, revealing a love she could no longer deny.
.....
Early the next morning, Yllona left for the National Library, determined. She sifted through countless books about famous painters, her eyes scanning page after page for anything that could help. Hours passed, her eyelids heavy with exhaustion, until…
"I found it," she whispered, a small triumph lighting her face.
She carefully read the text:
"The Goddess of Forest" by Juan Martinez. There are only two original copies of this painting.
Her mind raced. Only two originals… One was in the museum, now ruined. The other…
"Zambales?" she muttered.
Her pulse quickened as she confirmed it. The remaining copy had been entrusted by Juan Martinez to his closest friend, Pablo Escarlan, who lived in Zambales. Quickly, Yllona found the address, took a picture of it, and set off immediately.
.....
Bursting through the door, she greeted Aecus with excitement.
"I have good news!" she exclaimed, a bright smile on her face.
Aecus, still fidgeting with the fork he used to comb his hair, looked up. "What is it?"
"I know where the other painting is," Yllona said.
Aecus sprang to his feet, his expression a mix of hope and disbelief.
"Really?" he asked.
She nodded, determination blazing in her eyes.
.
.
.
The journey to Zambales was long and winding. Once they arrived at the town center, they took a jeepney to the remote address she had noted. Yllona had learned that Pablo Escarlan had passed the painting down through generations. Its current guardian was the grandson of his grandson—known simply as Ka Eros, a local shaman.
They walked for several minutes until they finally arrived at a quaint, curious-looking house.
"Are you really sure you want to stay outside?" Yllona asked.
"Yes. I sense many cats inside. It's better for me to wait here," Aecus replied.
Taking a deep breath, Yllona stepped inside.
"You're looking for me?" a smooth voice called.
"I'm looking for Ka Eros," Yllona said.
"That's me," he replied, stepping forward.
Yllona was stunned. He was not what she expected. She had imagined an elderly, frail man, bent with age. But before her stood a young man, wearing a slightly fake mustache and a comical, theatrical disguise. And… he was undeniably handsome.
"I'm here for the painting," she said, trying to steady her voice.
"Interested in the painting, huh? I'm guessing it's about your companion," Ka Eros said, glancing toward Aecus waiting outside.
"How did you know?" she asked, bewildered.
"I can sense… he is not human," he said simply.
Yllona's chest tightened. "We need the painting. He needs to return."
Ka Eros raised a brow. "Are you sure you want him to go back? Once he returns to the painting, you will never see him again. Are you prepared for that?"
Yllona froze. His words hit her like a sudden, cold wind.
She swallowed hard. She knew he was right. If Aecus returned to his world, to the painting, their time together—even this fleeting, magical connection—would vanish forever.
Her heart ached. Is she ready? Does she truly want him to return to his original world?
She bit her lower lip, wondering how she could choose.