Sunlight streams through the high windows, illuminating the dust motes dancing in the air. Her hair, the color of burnished copper, is pulled back in a practical braid. Her gown, a simple yet elegant design of forest green, allows for ease of movement. She clutches a small, leather-bound umbrella, its surface etched with cryptic symbols. With each gust of wind that carries the scent of rain, she tightens her grip on the handle, the worn leather cool against her palm. Though the air is thick with the musty scent of aged paper, a hint of rain tinges the breeze. A smile of pure joy lights up her face, for the scent of rain always reminds her of forgotten stories waiting to be unearthed.