Try it out.

The old page shivers as your hand snaps back instinctively. From it, a fine cloud of dust rises, barely illuminated by a fading blue light. In another moment, the azure hue returns to the ink from which it came, and all is normal once again.

But there's no fighting curiosity. You replace your index finger to the lines of the symbol and follow around its edge, certain to visit each nook and cross on the strange letter. As hoped, the blue glow reemerges from the ink, faithfully traced. When you are finished, an exact copy of the cryptic shape floats right off the page. Your hands grasp in vain for the intangible body, for it is somehow magical...ethereal...made purely of light.

Then, as the hanging symbol begins to disappear, so too does the page that was its home. It cracks and crumbles into dust, the tiny remains scattered easily by your very own breath. When the air is clear, all that remains is the next page and a new symbol, as if fate invites you to try again.

For several more pages you trace the strange symbols, setting them free and alight, their respective leaves evaporating each time without fail. With every passing rune you feel a little stranger...a little tingly...yet fear of the unknown cannot put a stop to your actions.

However, the sight of an increasingly bare book does. A mere fifteen minutes have passed and already half the tome is ruined. The feeling you get is exhilirating, but it may all be for naught of it means destroying the whole darn thing. No, better to hold on to what's left and find out more about this album of cryptic characters.

As you had found the book in your grandparents' attic, perhaps your parents or other relatives could know something about it. Or, if you continued looking through the attic you might discover some clues. If those options fail, there's always the library.