The lady walked through the shelves, delicately running her fingers over, but not quite touching the spines. Her face looked wise and compassionate, knowledgeable of all the mysteries of the aether.
The calm of the huge library was shattered as an assistant ran in. “My lady,”, she panted, “we are under attack! There’s a mob, and, and, they’re waving torches, and…we have to go! We have to escape!”
The librarian’s face betrayed no fear. “Go, and take as many books as you can. Tell the others, and escape through the catacombs. I will face this mob alone.”
Tears ran down the assistant’s face. “My lady…please don’t waste your life. These writings are not worth you dying! Please…don’t do this…”
The librarian drew herself up. “What better thing,” she asked, “can there be than to protect knowledge? I will be fine. I will live on, through your words and your memory of me. Now, go.”
The assistant ran, and the librarian stayed. Hypatia died protecting her books at the library of Alexandria.