The sun had barely risen over the horizon, casting a gentle golden light through the tall windows of the library. Dust motes danced in the air, illuminated by the beams of sunlight that filtered through the ancient glass. Lily sat at a heavy wooden table, surrounded by worn tomes and scrolls, lost in thought. She ran her fingers over the pages of an old book, its leather cover cracked and faded with age. The air was thick with the scent of parchment and ink, a comforting presence that always filled her with a sense of purpose.
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