A woman with long, curly brown hair and warm, golden- brown skin sits cross- legged on the floor of a dimly lit, old library, surrounded by towering shelves that stretch all the way to the vaulted ceiling, the air thick with dust and the whispers of the past, her eyes closed as if in meditation, a dreamcatcher made of a willow hoop, feathers, and sparkling silver threads rests on her lap, its web- like center glowing softly with an ethereal light, the walls around her lined with ancient tomes bound in worn leather, their pages yellowed with age, and strange, glowing orbs that seem to contain the whispers of the past, floating gently near the shelves, the woman's dark green dress is embroidered with intricate, swirling patterns that seem to match the threads of the dreamcatcher, and a soft, white glow emanates from her, as if she is the source of the gentle, pulsing light that illuminates the space, her face peaceful, yet strong, with high cheekbones and a small nose ring, a few strands of hair escaping her loose bun, framing her heart- shaped face, the atmosphere is heavy with the weight of forgotten knowledge, and the whispers of the past seem to be drawn to the dreamcatcher, as if it is a magnet, pulling them in, and the woman's presence seems to be the key to unlocking the secrets that the library holds