The powerful Stratton family, a tech industry titan, claimed I was their long-lost son.

They brought me back from my remote mountain sanctuary.

However, when I arrived, my father accused me of peddling superstition and called me a fraud.

My adopted brother, the false heir, spread rumors that I was practicing dark magic and cursing the family.

My uncle sided with him. He put on a serious face as he warned me. Ethan, the Stratton family built this empire on technology. If you insist on this occult nonsense, youll leave us with no choice but to disown you!

Confronted with their ignorant ridicule and malicious setup, I felt the urge to roll my eyes.

I thought. Whoever said I came back to reconnect? I came down from that mountain to save your lives! Are you really too blind to see everything is about to come crashing down in your family?
Chapter 1
I was wearing the hand-sewn ritual cloak my mentor, Joel Whuzmarc, made for me when a luxury sedan escorted me to the Stratton mansion.
When the door opened, I saw a middle-aged man standing at the entrance with a frown.
That was my biological father, Ted Stratton, a man I had never met before.
Thats what you chose to wear after coming back down from the mountain?
He sized me up with unconcealed disgust in his eyes.
What a disgrace! Go get changed now!
Before I could say anything, a young man in a smart suit, who looked about my age, walked over with a glass of red wine in his hand.
Dad, take it easy. He just got back. He needs time to adjust.
He raised his glass toward me in a mock toast. His smile was bright, though his eyes were filled with cold contempt.
Welcome home, Ethan. Im Mason Stratton.
Suddenly, he seemed to stumble. His red wine splattered the leather satchel I held against my chest.
The dark liquid soaked through the ritual parchment Joel had drawn for me.
It was the first protective charm Joel had painstakingly prepared for the Stratton family.
Oops. Im sorry, Ethan. It was an accident.
Mason apologized, but there was a smug grin on his face.
I looked at him quietly.
Ted waved his hand dismissively.
Enough. Its just a ragged old satchel and some worthless scribbles. Whats the big deal? Lets get something straight, Ethan. This is the Stratton home, not your occult shack. I want you to put away all that bogus psychic nonsense!
The butler led me to a small attic room in the farthest corner of the third floor.
It was cramped. It only contained a bed and a desk. It was more like a storage closet than a bedroom.
I opened the soaked leather satchel. The ritual parchment inside was ruined. The carefully inked sigil had blurred into black smudges.
The first protective charm for the Stratton family had been destroyed by their own hands before I even stepped through the door.
I looked out the window at the glittering city lights, then down at my out of place ritual cloak.
I thought to myself. Fine, since youre determined to see me as a clueless fraudulent psychic, Ill play the part then. Lets see how long your perfect lives last without this charm. After all, that mass of thick, pure dark energy hanging over your heads is no joke.
I did not touch the designer clothes hanging in the wardrobe.
Instead, I remained in my rough, hand-sewn ritual cloak.
The attic might have been tiny, but at least it was quiet.
I set my suitcase in the corner as a makeshift altar. Then, I put three white warding candles into a small dish and lit them.
Whether they believed it or not, the energy in this house was totally chaotic. If I did not stabilize it soon, something bad was going to happen.
I had just lit the candle when the door slammed open with a violent bang.
Mason stood there with our father, Ted. He pointed at me with feigned, dramatic concern.
Dad, look! I told you he was being weird and creepy. What the hell is he doing in here?
When Ted saw the small candle setup, his expression turned livid in an instant.
He stormed into the room and kicked my altar over.
The white candles skidded across the floor. The wax spilled across the wood.
Ethan Stratton! He jabbed a finger toward my face while his body shook with rage.
What did I tell you? Instead of studying, instead of doing anything real or scientific, you chose to become a con artist! Do you really think this is something to be proud of?
Looking at the mess on the floor, there was not a ripple of emotion inside me.
I was trying to bless our family.
Bless? Ted snorted, as if he had just heard the most absurd thing in the world.

Chapter 2
His eyes locked onto the pocket of my ritual clock, where the end of a braided black cord peeked out.
His hand darted into my pocket and roughly pulled out a clear-quartz pendant.
It was a protective relic Joel had bestowed upon me when I left. The crystal was flawless and almost luminous. Its facets were carved with intricate banishment sigils.
Did you plan to bless us with this? Ted held the pendant up to his face, which was full of contempt.
What is this, some one-dollar junk you bought from a street vendor? Do you really think its special?
I kept my eyes on the quartz and flatly said, It can deflect one fatal omen.
Ha! Ted let out an enraged laugh. A fatal omen? Youre not a psychic, youre just a delusional loser!
With that, he raised his hand and hurled the clear-quartz pendant to the floor.
Crack!
A crystalline snap echoed in the small room.
The pendant shattered into pieces.
I could feel the last trace of protective energy within it dissipating into nothing.
I looked down at the fragments, then at my enraged father and Mason, who was enjoying the show.
The last fragile thread of familial feeling in my heart snapped along with the crystal.
The final sliver of affection I had left for this family shattered right along with that pendant.
He had no idea that what he had just shattered was not merely a piece of quartz, but the life force of my grandfather, Arthur Stratton.
Forget it.
Some people only understood lessons when they came with consequences.
Thanks to Masons efforts, the news that the Stratton family had a fraud-psychic for a son quickly spread through their entire social circle.