Dear Jain,

  The fact that you can read this means that you have opened your Third Eye. That means the clock has started ticking. The same way that you can See, you can now be Seen. Especially since you are a Hallow in name, and a Shin in blood; there will be those who have been looking for you.

  By now, I’m assuming you have begun to put two and two together. You’ve probably begun to question everything that’s happening to you.

  Do not question. Do not doubt. You cannot afford such weakness. Not now.

  For since times immemorial, there have been a select few dealing with the unnamed, unseen, and untouched. We, and by extension of blood, you, are what we call Practitioners. Those who deal with forces of the world that one calls magic and everything surrounding it: Spirits, Demons, Myths, Fables, and more.

  The Hallow family is one of them, though estranged from others of Society, even more so than the normal. That is because the family has always been made of researchers, pushing the boundaries of what was possible in the anagogic arts and science, especially treading areas that no other families would dare.

  That is not to say your mother’s family was lacking in that aspect. They were chased out of Asia for precisely the same reason that the Hallows were pushed out of Europe during the middle ages: for dealing with less than favorable beings.

  Both the Shins and the Hallows have had centuries to hoard wealth pertaining to the Practice. Esoteric knowledge that could only be gained by bargaining with beings, and paying prices that others were not willing. Knowledge that others Practitioners frown on, yet continue to lust after.

  It is this knowledge that your mother has left you. When my own time comes, I imagine you will receive the Hallow portion as well.

  Unfortunately, your mother and I made our own share of mistakes. Mistakes which required prices, deals, and pacts. To explain it all would require paper beyond what’s available, and riddle your mind with more knowledge than necessary.

  The only thing you need to know is that other Practitioners have found a way to use our mistakes to their advantage. Their goal is to lay claim on the Shin inheritance and everything surrounding it.

  I want you to stop them, Jain. It’s the only thing of your mother we have left.

  Onto the practicals.

  In the bedroom is a copy of ‘Arcanum: Condicio sine qua non’. You can find the english translation titled ‘Prerequisites’. Keep it on you, read it every chance you get. There are other books, but focus on the basics. It will save your life.

  This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

  You will need three things: a Familiar, a Staff, and an Instrument; in that order.

  Your mother was a powerful Shaman, and had a contract with a powerful lineage of spirits. Search out a man named Paris in Chinatown, he will guide you in the matter. Your contracted familiar will dictate what kind of instrument you choose. As for the staff, a general one will do for now.

  You've probably met Emyrith by now. You can trust him until this is all over.

  I hate to put this burden on you.

  Your Father,

  William Everblack Hallow

  If it weren’t for the handwriting, I might not have believed this was my dad's. He never said ‘do this’ or ‘do that’. It was always ‘would you mind’ or ‘would you please’.

  He sounded angry.

  And I was too.

  Actually, I was pissed off.

  I’m the type of guy who gets A’s but is still stupid enough to bring a statewide illegal weapon on school property because it reminds him of his mom. To me, family is everything. And since my mom died? Even more so.

  I still think about her you know. I still... I still love her. She's my mom. Always.

  I don’t have a lot of things. But the things I do have matter to me. A lot.

  These guys, I could tell even without meeting them, were definitely the kind of pompous assholes who didn’t give a shit about the little guy or who they hurt. They probably had enough of their own, yet here they were, waltzing into my life, my dad’s life, and trying to take away the last thing that my mom left us.

  And if they succeeded?...

  God, my poor dad man. My fucking dad.

  She had been everything to him.

  I barely noticed the series of scenes that faded in and out, overlapping the letters as I read. A scene of my dad’s hand, grabbing his fountain pencil –his most prized possession– and scribbling on a blank piece of paper. His shoes stepping into the bedroom. A backpack filled to the brim.

  The Third Eye. It had to be.

  Emyrith gently cleared his throat. “We are nearly at our destination, Mr. Hallow. Now would be a prudent time to discuss.”

  I gently pried my fingers off the letter. I smoothed out the bottom half where my fingers had crumpled it.

  “Just so I’m gettings this straight,” I began, “My mom left me the secret documents to Monte Cristo in her Will, but there are other Practitioners gunning for it. And it’s up to me to stop them from robbing me blind. Anything else?”

  “You might die?” Ruth chimed in.

  “Jesus Christ.” I swore.

  “Aptly put.” Emyrith said dryly.

  “Ok, I have the gist of what’s going on. But I still don’t know who these assholes are,” I waved the letter, “and how I have to do what I have to do.”

  “Your part of the how can wait until later. First, we will enter into a discussion where I will remediate their attempts to–”

  “–to steal my shit?” I offered.

  “...to take ownership of the Shin inheritance, and arbitrate it as originally intended.” He didn’t bat an eye at my remark, but Ruth was delighted.

  “Oh, I can tell he’s getting mad!” The ragdoll familiar exclaimed. “I’m starting to like him, Emmie!”

  “Should negotiations break down, we will fall back on the old ways.” Emyrith finished.

  The car pulled into an underground parking lot of a massive office building.

  …Why were the lights off?

  “As to who they are,” The lawyer straightened his collar, then looked at his watch. “They are family, Mr. Hallow. Not by blood, but family by tradition. The highest echelon of Society, and the highborn of even the most ancient of blood” As the car slowed to a stop, he offered a hand and Ruth clambered up onto his shoulder again. “And we are about to meet them now. I implore you, do try and make a good impression.”

  I didn’t bother with a response.

  With my spaghetti-and-milk stained school uniform and pink backpack that said ‘Girl Power!’ in green glitter, I followed Emyrith out of the car and into the dark building.