I place a heap of yellowed scrolls onto a mahogany desk. The occasional chatter of students walking by felt like bitter biting bugs against my ears. As the large expanse of the window reminds the library's inhabitants that the day is over, I ignore the moon's glare, and my eyes continue to skim over the ancient words scrawled onto delicate browning paper. A soft clatter caught my attention. Slowly, I stood, walking over to the bookshelves with silent steps.