The air crackled with a different kind of tension as they approached the library. The heavy oak door stood ajar, a sliver of warm yellow light spilling onto the corridor. Inside, Serafina sat slumped in her usual armchair, her face pale and drawn. Her eyes, usually sparkling with otherworldly knowledge, were tightly shut, her brow furrowed in concentration.
Agatha hovered beside her, a concerned frown etched on her wrinkled face. A small vial of shimmering liquid rested on the table beside a steaming cup of tea.
"What's happening?" Barnaby asked, his voice hushed. He moved towards Serafina, his steps hesitant. his gaze shifted to Serafina's trembling form. He reached out a hand, hovering over her shoulder for a moment before gently placing it there.
A sharp gasp escaped Serafina's lips. Her eyelids fluttered open, revealing eyes clouded with distress. "Barnaby…" she rasped, her voice weak. "It's… worse. The darkness… it's growing."
