Rosalind
The atmosphere in the room was tinged with a mixture of concern and uncertainty as we gathered to discuss Art's absence. It had been hours since we last saw him, and though his periodic disappearances were not uncommon, there was a palpable sense of unease lingering in the air.
"Miss Lilith, have you seen Art?" I inquired, turning to our caretaker in search of answers. She shook her head solemnly, her expression mirroring the worry etched upon our faces.
"No, I haven't, but you know today is that day," she replied, her words a somber reminder of the pattern that had become all too familiar to us.
Aurora voiced the sentiments that echoed in all of our minds, her brow furrowing with concern. "I do always wonder where he could possibly be. You never did tell me where he goes," she remarked, her voice tinged with a note of frustration.
Luna, ever the optimist, attempted to assuage our fears with her youthful innocence. "Big brother is strong, so he'll be fine!" she chirped, her words infused with unwavering faith in her sibling's resilience.
But Arthur, immersed in his book, remained stoically indifferent to the conversation, his silence a stark contrast to the rest of us who grappled with our growing apprehension. Sophia, too, seemed lost in her own thoughts, her expression unreadable as she stared into the distance.
"It's true that he's been like this since he was eleven," Arthur finally spoke, his voice calm and measured.
"But shouldn't we be worried? I mean, yes, I know he's done this for years now, but still..." Elizabeth's words hung in the air, a poignant reminder of the gravity of our concerns. Despite our attempts to rationalize Art's behavior, the specter of uncertainty loomed large, casting a shadow over our collective sense of security.
As we waited in tense anticipation for Art's return, each passing moment seemed to stretch on indefinitely, fraught with the silent question that lingered unspoken in the air: Where was he, and when would he come back to us?
The sudden splat on the floor shattered the eerie calm of the room, jolting us all out of our reverie. We turned in unison to see a pool of black slime spreading across the ground, and horror washed over us as we realized what had happened to Lilith.
Her arm was gone, replaced by the same viscous slime that now oozed across the floor. The shock on her face mirrored the fear that gripped us all as she struggled to comprehend the gravity of the situation.
"This can't—" Lilith's voice faltered, her breath coming in ragged gasps as panic threatened to overwhelm her. Aurora's concerned inquiry only seemed to deepen the sense of dread that hung heavy in the air.
"Miss Lilith, is everything alright?" Aurora's worried expression was mirrored by Elizabeth and me as we looked to our caretaker for answers.
But Lilith's response sent a chill down my spine. "Art, he's... near death," she whispered, tears glistening in her eyes as she uttered the ominous words. The realization hit me like a punch to the gut—when a master dies, their servant reverts to their original form.
With a sense of urgency, Lilith scanned the room, desperation evident in every movement as she sought to locate Art's presence. And when she finally sensed him, she wasted no time in rushing out the door, her resolve unyielding in the face of impending tragedy.
"Both of you, come with me!" Aurora's command snapped us into action, her voice resolute as she led the way out of the room. Luna's terrified inquiry hung in the air, her fear palpable as she clung to Art's siblings for comfort.
"Arthur, look after your sisters," I instructed, my voice firm as I turned to Art's younger brother. He nodded in understanding, his expression grave as he prepared to shoulder the responsibility that lay ahead.
With hearts heavy with worry, we followed Lilith into the unknown, our thoughts consumed by the dire fate that awaited us. But amidst the chaos and uncertainty, one thing remained clear—we would do whatever it took to save Art, even if it meant facing the darkest of challenges that lay ahead.