Gemotions

The aroma of burning incense usually soothed Zara, but now it only made her throat tighten. Her mentor, the enigmatic Madame Evangeline, had vanished, leaving only a cryptic note on the altar: "The veil is thin. Find your own truth." Zara felt a chill crawl down her spine. The temple felt cold, dark, and unfamiliar.

She hadn't been back in weeks, she was supposed to go. She hadn't seen this coming. She paced the room, each step echoing in the silence. The shadows seemed to dance, to writhe, mocking her. She ran her hand over the polished wood of the altar.

Every detail seemed heightened, every sound amplified. She found herself jumping at the slightest noise. The chanting from the neighbouring temple was coming through, and she could hear it. Her breath was coming in short gasps.

She felt a desperate need to know. She reached for the oracle cards, her fingers trembling as she shuffled the deck.