Gemotions

The solicitor’s office was oppressively formal, the air thick with the scent of old paper and suppressed grief. Eleanor sat stiffly, her back ramrod straight, while her brother, Thomas, leaned back, seemingly at ease. Their inheritance had been… divided.

Thomas received the family home, a sprawling estate with manicured gardens and a history stretching back centuries. Eleanor, on the other hand, was bequeathed a single, worn leather-bound book.

She picked it up cautiously, feeling the weight of it in her hands. The book was titled, "The Lost Languages of the Heart." Flipping through the brittle pages, she saw archaic symbols and cryptic drawings. Her head began to ache.

Thomas chuckled. "Well, that's not exactly a trophy, is it?"

Eleanor didn’t reply. Instead, she felt the prickling of sweat on her palms. It felt like she had received a puzzle she couldn’t solve.