Having said that, he reached out and slowly tapped three times on his own mitre.
The old bishop murmured softly, "May the candles at his grave burn eternally."
"—May his candles burn eternally."
All the guests present bowed their heads in unison, murmuring in chorus, each touching their chest three times.
With that, the main process of the funeral had ended.
What followed was finding someone to close the coffin, bury it in the ground, and then have the Priest bless the land. Those who brought flowers could come forward to offer them, while those who were just there to attend the funeral could now leave or wander around and talk freely.
Under the black umbrella, Aiwass noticed that not far away, Sherlock's mother could no longer hold back her tears. She, too, was in a wheelchair. Unlike Aiwass, she looked haggard, her cheeks gaunt. The middle-aged man with neat black hair and black-framed glasses was quietly comforting her at her side.
