Heritage: The Alpha Draft

David L. Craddock writes fiction, nonfiction, and grocery lists. He is the author of the Gairden Chronicles series of fantasy novels for young adults, as well as numerous nonfiction books documenting videogame development and culture, including the bestselling Stay Awhile and Listen series, Shovel Knight by Boss Fight Books, and Long Live Mortal Kombat. Follow him online at www.DavidLCraddock.com, and on Twitter @davidlcraddock.

Heritage: The Alpha Draft by David L. Craddock

"It's about a sword."

That was David L. Craddock's first idea for the book that became Heritage—a sword that collects the souls of ancestors, allowing them to guide their descendants as they rule a kingdom whose peace is about to be shattered. Over a dozen drafts and several attempts later, the book was published.

For the first time, Craddock is releasing the alpha draft—the version accepted for publication and then withdrawn, only to be published later—to give readers an idea of how a story can evolve. A special foreword explains mistakes he made and why the alpha draft, had it reached shelves, would have been a massive disappointment to readers and author alike. More than anything else, Heritage: The Alpha Draft serves as a lesson—every idea, every creation, has to start somewhere. With hard work and diligence, it can only get better.

CURATOR'S NOTE

Heritage is my first novel. Not just the first novel I sold to a publisher and had published. The first book I wrote. Most authors relegate the first novel (and often their second, their third…) to the proverbial trunk, viewing it as a lesson and moving on to other stories. But I believed in Heritage, so I kept revising until it reached a point where I was thrilled with the characters, the world, and the story. Getting there was no easy task. I'm presenting this alpha draft, the first accepted for publication—and I'm glad it wasn't for reasons you'll discover—as a lesson in what could have been.

One word of advice: Don't read the alpha draft of Heritage first. Read the finished novel, included in this StoryBundle, and then come back to see how much the book changed.

BOOK PREVIEW

Excerpt

Sunlight poured through rows of frosted windows panes to dot the stone floor of the northern vestibule of Hahlrock Fortress with squares of shimmering gold. Aidan Gairden paused in one of the vast room's many entryways and studied the patches of light. He thought that if one were to scale the room's rough stone walls and gaze down, the expanse would resemble a chessboard made of stone and gold.

Feeling much like a chess piece being moved not of its own volition, Aidan crossed the room to a pair of broad oak doors. He cracked one door just enough to peer in. Palace servants scurried about, hard at work setting tables on either side of a strip of plush red carpet that divided the cavernous throne room. Once set, tables were covered with lace tablecloths, which in turn were covered with baskets of buttered rolls, platters of ham, pots of mashed potatoes, and fruit baskets. Plum-colored drink gurgled from bottles as servants tipped them into fluted glasses that sat at each place setting.

Aidan raised his eyes to the rows of balconies that wrapped around the room's perimeter and jutted from the walls like rectangular chins. Nobles in fine silks and velvets climbed spiraling staircases set to either side of the balconies and sat near friends — or perhaps rivals, judging from the rolling of eyes brought on by the arrival of some newcomers. Servants scurried between seats, taking requests before dashing off to place orders, which would be served following the ceremony.

Sighing, Aidan eased the door closed. As he turned to leave, a man garbed in chain mail standing across the antechamber cheerfully called out "Happy birthday" and waved with one hand; the other gripped a spear which stood at attention beside him. Fanned out around him to cover every inch of every wall were dozens of other Wardsmen, all standing equally straight with their backs against the high, smooth stone. Their firm gazes never wavered, but Aidan knew they scrutinized all passersby as if they were invaders from another land. At the sight of the prince, the other Wardsmen visibly relaxed, smiled, and echoed the sentiment before again going as stiff as the chainmail they wore.

Aidan acknowledged them with a small nod. "Oh yes," he whispered as he set off toward his chambers. "Happy damn birthday indeed."

He looked up at the gasp that came from a startled maid who had halted beside him. The older woman was carrying a basket filled with cakes of soap; her expression suggested that she meant to scrub Aidan's mouth with each and every one.

"My apologies," he said lamely.

"Needn't apologize to me, Prince Aidan," she said, whittling away at his tall frame with her contemptible glare. "I only hope your mother doesn't put up with such language once the ceremony begins." Finally she straightened and gave an indignant "Humph", as if he were beyond her help regardless of the sternness of her gaze. "Peace be with you," she said with a quick bow before turning and striding away, her wool skirt swishing loudly.

Aidan rolled his eyes and resumed his walk in the opposite direction. "Aailee take me, I didn't ask for any of this," he growled.

"Destiny is never asked for, Aidan Gairden," the woman said.

Aidan started; he'd thought the maid had departed. Turning smoothly, his mind already piecing together a more urbane apology, Aidan donned his most winning smile — and blinked. The corridor was empty. Frowning, he walked back to the vestibule. Attendants milled about, and Wardsmen stood as straight and as still as they had when he'd passed through moments earlier