Heritage: Book One of the Gairden Chronicles Read Online Free PDF

his mother as she concluded the tale.
    “The crone bestowed one final gift to Ambrose Gairden:
    Heritage, a blade crafted from the Lady of Dawn’s light and passed from generation to generation. She departed, and the Darinian builders worked with the Gairdens to rebuild Torel Fortress. They renamed it Sunfall, named in honor of the disciple’s appearance. With the Serpent War ended, Ambrose and Anastasia took Heritage into Sallner and carried out the realm’s punishment for succumbing to sin.”
    Overhead, the stars that made up the southern realm of Crotaria winked out, one by one. Abruptly the other lights vanished, leaving the room blanketed in darkness. Nervous muttering broke out. A sharp hiss rang through the room as Annalyn pulled her sword from her sheath and raised it high. Cords of fire shot across the room, lighting torches hanging from either side of each balcony. The windows remained dark, as if looking out on a black, blank sky. No one noticed. All eyes, Aidan’s included, were on Heritage.
    The double-edged blade was unblemished. Legends said Heritage was made from magically reinforced steel, and could not be chipped, dented, or broken. Engravings of lightning bolts curled down its length. The hilt was wrapped in leather to provide a surer grip. In the center of the guard that joined hilt and blade was the Eye of Heritage, an egg-shaped ruby. At Annalyn’s touch, the Eye glowed a warm scarlet.
    “There is but one criterion that must be met for a Gairden to become sword-bearer,” Annalyn said as she faced Aidan. “Heritage must be willingly accepted. By so doing, it is not only the blade that is accepted, but the responsibility it carries.”
    Annalyn ran her free hand across Aidan’s cheek, then dropped her arm and donned a sober expression as she lowered herself to one knee and held Heritage hilt-first to her only child.
    “I extend Heritage to my son, Aidan Gairden. Aidan, do you accept Heritage, knowing that doing so names you Crown of the North and sword-bearer, guardian of the four realms? Do you swear to lay down your life before harm comes to friend or kin, to people or land?”
    Aidan looked at his mother. Her smiling face spoke of confidence, pride, and love. He looked at his father. Edmund’s left hand gripped the hilt of Valor as he nodded to his son. Then Aidan sought Tyrnen’s eyes. The Eternal Flame stood rigid, his hands lost within the many folds of his robe. He gave a small nod.
    Aidan took a deep breath and raised his eyes to take in the faces gathered all around him. A baby’s cry cut through the room’s absolute stillness, followed by a mother’s soothing voice as she rocked the child to stillness. The torches above fell into low muttering, and the throne room itself seemed to hold its breath.
    This was it. This was what all the people had journeyed hundreds of miles to see. He would take Heritage, hold it over his head. The crowd would cheer, they would all sit down to Helda’s feast, and then he could go back to bed, claiming the excitement of the great day had caught up with him. All he had to do was hold a sword.
    He reached for Heritage.
    —Destiny is never a choice, Aidan Gairden, a voice whispered.
    A chill swept through him. Looking around, he heard only smothered coughs. He stared at his mother. She was looking at him, smiling, nodding. She must have been the one who had spoken. She was always going on about destiny and making choices.
    He took another deep breath, and, with as much confidence as he could muster, he reached out to the sword.
    Heritage wrenched from Annalyn’s grip and tumbled to the floor. Crimson sparks shot from the Eye, crawling along the floor toward Aidan. He leaped back with a cry. Spitting sparks, the sword convulsed on the floor as the Eye bathed the room in red light.
    Heritage gave a final shudder and went still. The Eye went dark, and light flooded through the windows. A nervous muttering broke out as Annalyn lunged forward to scoop up