Book 1: THE EMPIRE'S RIGHTFUL HEIR
Prologue
She's new, the man concluded. She looked to him like she's from another town, but might as well be from another world.
She's cute, that's undeniable. This little girl that just came in was short, young, probably in her early teens, yet she walks with a posture that tells the room she's not just anybody. Her chestnut hair cascaded down her shoulders, lightly bouncing at every step she took.
He's supposed to be focusing on the instrument he was playing. His eyes were pinned to the sight of his fingers drifting over piano keys, singing the notes to his absolute favorite song. But then the doors to the church opened and this girl walked in.
He had to look. The red coat draped over her arm was definitely eye-catching, but not as much as her face. The whole room disappeared. The piano, the pastor, the congregation, they were all gone. There was just him and the girl.
As they stared at each other, he felt some sort of heavy burden coming down on his shoulders. It wasn't like anything he had ever carried before, and he had been through quite a lot. As the moment stretched longer, the weight grew heavier. The man's back slowly bent into a hunch. Soon enough, his hands were on the ground, trying to prop his whole body up. That wasn't an easy task at all.
All the while, the girl was just there. She didn't move, didn't even blink, much less say a word. But for some reason he blamed her for the burden. As if she herself brought it into the room and draped it on his back the way her coat was on her arm.
The man winced, debating whether or not to ask for her help. Or simply scold her for being so inconsiderate. But why should he think she was responsible? She's much too young, so much younger than he is. Somehow, though, the man had a feeling that she knew more than she's letting on. She knew more than he did.
When the weight became too heavy for him, he finally surrendered to it, expecting to fall flat on the floor. To his surprise, he fell into his bed. In his room. It was already morning and he's almost fifteen minutes late to his usual waking hours during Sundays. So the man quickly got up and got dressed, trying and failing to ignore the memories of the dream he just had.
He wondered what it could've meant, because his dreams would always mean something. He wondered if the girl was an actual human being that he's met before but only in passing. He wondered if he thought about it long enough, he could remember her face. Sadly, he discovered that it slipped out of his mind too quickly, and now all he could picture was the color of her hair and her blood red coat.
The man flipped through the pages of his Bible and decided to give it a rest. If he had to learn something from the dream, it would come to him. For now, he needed his time alone with his God before serving him in church for the second service. So he had just that, for more than an hour. Only then did he allow himself to go to the kitchen and get some breakfast.
Sleep slowly escaping his eyes, the man presses a button and the process of pulling one good shot of espresso starts. He stares as coffee grounds fall, drizzling, releasing an aroma that promises a beautiful day. As the man was about to continue with this simple endeavor, an old woman came up from behind him, tapping on his shoulder.
"Is that for me?" she asked.
"No," the man answered with a laugh, then pointed at the coffee capsules on the countertop labeled Decaffeinated. "That's yours,"
The old woman huffed, which the man found endearing. "Abominations,"
He laughed again, swirling his own cup and filling the empty space with hot water. "I'm not sure if I'll be home for lunch, Gran. My friend might need me to cover his shift after church. I'd still love lasagna though, if you're willing to leave some for me,"
"I'll make plenty, don't you worry,"
Gran waited as his grandson, who is actually his ward, made her the abominable decaf. Once done, she took the cup and they both sipped in silence.
"Be mindful today," Gran said, finally breaking it.
"Why?"
She shrugged. "I don't know. It just kept echoing in my head after Pastor's sermon this morning. I don't have to worry about you though, do I?"
"I'm always mindful," The man smiled, pecked a kiss on his Gran's cheek, then left for church.
After a nice walk, some prayers, a bit of practice, and the pastor's sermon, the man found himself at the foot of the stage, waiting for instructions. Then the worship leader, a good friend of his, leaned towards his ear and whispered, "How Great Thou Art,"
Funny, the man thought. It's his absolute favorite song. He smiled, then let his fingers drift through the piano keys to play the notes.
Chapter 1: The Empire and the Heirs
Welcome to Woodland.
It's not as wild as LA or NYC, but not as tame as the usual suburb. We're kind of an in-between. There are skyscrapers, trains, parks, and everything you'll ever need and want.
Most of them are either run or donated by my family and our private corporation, Bardenwood. But we might as well call the whole town by that name because we've brandished our name everywhere - our company buildings, infrastructure we've donated, the train track that we acquired from the government, even our home which is now an official landmark.
We do business in other countries too. But Woodland, being our home, is where we thrived. And we have a good relationship with our people.
The history of our empire, so we call it, is common knowledge to us. We all had to know where we came from, how we came here, and where we should be going. Dad always told me that we're special children, born to this world to make it a better place. I believed him. I always did.
Our ten-hectare estate in Fenton Post, Woodland is protected like a fortress. All the latest security installments and all the best guards were hand-picked by my father. For two centuries the manor stood strong at the heart of the expanse of land, with a fruitful flower garden-slash-orchard for a front yard, an intricate maze for a backyard, a swimming pool right outside of the west wing, and a wide grass-carpeted space greeting the east.
The patriarchs of different generations in our family preferred to preserve the architecture of the manor so instead of renovating to make it look modern, they only did repairs and security upgrades. Even in the interior of the house. So when beheld from outside, Bardenwood looked like a place out of time. Going in too, since the original designs were also maintained, the gadgets of the twenty-first century were the odd ones out. While Dad bought modern furniture in old-fashioned patterns, my brothers and I didn't bother with our personal stuff that we would always leave lying around.
Ours is an odd family. My father, Thomas Barden, is the sole owner of the empire, Bardenwood Incorporated. It's a multi-billion company of companies that he inherited from his father, Jose. At the age of twenty-seven, Dad married Alana and had two boys with her. That was Tyler and Aldrich. It didn't end well because Dad found out that Alana was having an affair with a long-time boyfriend. Apparently, she seduced Dad into marrying her so she could get some money for her and the guy to enjoy. Pure evil, if I may say so myself.
But a few years later, Dad's heart was healed by this beautiful single mom of twins called Michael and Gabriel. They met at this inter-high school science fair championship that Addy joined when he was nine. And yes, I said the age right. One of his opponents was Mike, who was seven then. Dad miraculously had the time to take Addy to the event, which was the start of another tragic love story for him.
Clara had just been widowed so she easily turned to Dad's consolation. After a year, they got married and Dad adopted the twins and loved them as his own. Mainly because they were prodigies as well. Tyler and Addy were more than thrilled to have new siblings and a mother. Then when Brent came into the family, they were ecstatic!
However, the celebration was short-lived.
Dad's brother, Uncle Joe, was diagnosed with cancer. He announced it to the whole family as soon as he learned, which was a month after Brent was born. By then, it was already terminal. Uncle Joe never married but he had one illegitimate son who had been born just a few days before Brent. So, instead of getting treatment, he dedicated his last days into winning his son over in court, which he definitely did. A moment too soon he succumbed to his illness, and in fulfillment of his death wish, Dad adopted the child and named him Malachi.
A few dark years later, all my brothers claimed that the house lit up with new sunshine because I came to the world. The details were blurry but they would recount it to me in a nutshell.
Dad and Clara's marriage was already falling apart because he got cheated on again. Dad just waited for me to be born before he demanded an annulment and my mother just disappeared after that, leaving us behind, including the twins.
Drama queens, right? But that's just our family, which consists of only about a third of our generation. The real story, though, goes way back.
The Barden family had humble beginnings. But that was about two centuries ago. Exponential-Great Grandpa Henry was a cobbler back in the day. He fixed shoes for the neighborhood and made new ones as a hobby. He never showed it to anyone until this very rich guy, Arthur Reneid, stumbled upon one of his designs while he waited for his shoes to be sowed. He asked to see the others and was amazed by each and every one of them.
They became partners in the business which grew slowly but surely. They integrated backward to machinery needed for the enterprise and forward to distribution channels all over the country. It came to a point where Arthur let Henry in on his other businesses which included livestock and wine. Grandpa learned how to manage multiple businesses as he rose to fame alongside his now closest friend. Arthur was there when Henry got married, had kids, and grandchildren. Sadly, he never had any of those himself.
Arthur was significantly older than Henry so while the latter could still play with his children's toddlers, the former was already dying. And since he had no heir, he left everything to the Barden family.
How did I know all these? There were diaries. Henry's heart and soul poured out on parchment, kept and preserved by his descendants like their very own Bible. I figured it was their way of paying homage to the great Arthur Reneid who literally handed his silver platter to them. And because I'm a descendant, I pay homage too. I always hated History in school, but our history? That's another story. My family history is my life.
It could be Dad's influence since he was the one who insisted that we read them. But as I got older, it became a passion of my own. Before I knew it, reading the diaries just became a part of my daily routine.
There was one entry in Henry's journal that I always came back to. It was written on the day that Arthur passed away.
The best part for me was when Henry wrote, "I was the lowliest cobbler in town and even the lowliest of persons in the world yet this man of great honor took notice of me. He treated me as his own child and molded me into someone that I had not even dreamt of being. Now he has joined the God who has woven our paths to intertwine and since He was good enough to conjure such a fortunate event, I trust that He is good enough to take care of Arthur's soul.
"My family and I do not deserve what he has left for us but it would be of my arrogance if I reject it. I fear that this would end up in the wrong hands if I do not take to heart this responsibility that he has caused me to inherit. Therefore I vow to pass on this good man's legacy of helping those who have given up hope of changing the world by what they loved to do.
"This empire will live on. I shall teach my successors to care for this wealth so delicately because they have not earned a fraction of it. They should perceive it as a pearl that may easily escape their hold, that not one of them has the right to claim a thing had they not worked hard for it. Once the essence of this wealth for them had been learned and taken to their hearts, only then shall I have them understand that it is only for their perfection that I restricted them from enjoying such privileges for I cannot risk my sired generations to have laughter only in the sunrise of their lives. When the sun begins to set on them, and they shall be able to fend for themselves, only then will my soul be at peace.
"Above all, however, the legacy that I mentioned prior to my wishes for my family's attitude toward this wealth is this: that there shall be at least one soul in this broken world that every grandchild of mine shall assist. Each one of them, I pray, shall have a heart like Arthur's that is willing to aid a dying dreamer to the best of his or her ability. These notes and copper were only instruments that Arthur used to guide my path, yet it was his words, his actions, and his love for those that were less privileged than he was that brought me to this place. That is the empire that shall live on."
Because of Henry's journal, a fascination for a life in the olden days grew on me. My brothers always had to drag me out of the library for I read all of those writings until morning.
There were descriptions of how simple their lives were, how humble and content. I learned that the entertainment of the rich weren't that more lavish than the poor, that they did not have too many choices on food and clothing, that children didn't go to school with other kids, and many more. It was my favorite history book of all time!
Henry was true to his words. Every one of our ancestors worked hard in their business of choice and for generations and generations, people were being helped. Decades after inheriting the Reneid estate, one of the heirs decided to rename it Bardenwood. That was when it was legally considered a landmark and historical site. Also, the Barden Benefactors was officially founded to reach more beneficiaries and offer better benefits and services.
Most CEO's and corporate royalties would split their fortunes among their children and pick the oldest or the most interested to take their place in management. But in this, we were odd businessmen too.
It all started with Caroline Barden, Henry's youngest sister, who had a passion for education and died single and childless.
Henry was still managing and couldn't decide who the next head of the empire should be when she suggested that they should have another way to pass the management on. Henry was worried that his first born son was not as interested as his youngest boy. And after paying for the education of his brothers' children, he learned that they had potential too. Dad told us that before Reneid died and granted everything to his partner's care, Henry wanted to split his equity to his children and their less fortunate cousins. But the sister had a better idea.
Since she was an educator, a mathematician who wasn't given the spotlight because she was a woman, she decided to gather all of her nieces and nephews to groom them in knowledge. They hired the best professors and teachers that they could find and made the children study under their care.
When they told Reneid about this, he had agreed it was for the best. I guess he would've, having no heir of his own. They put effort into it, spent money for it, and eventually, the school took off, named Barden Institute of Business, coined by the proprietress herself.
Caroline Barden established a most private of private schools that's been running now for a century, honing five generations of Barden children.
The ones who excelled academically and had a knack for teaching became the Educators. They were raised to be professors and researchers because they were tasked to educate the next generations and manage the Institute. Our system was tailor-made for running the empire and it honestly feels like being homeschooled, only with more specific and targeted lessons. We could go to university if we wanted to but so far, only one has tried. And she got alienated. Who else was going to try after that?
A bunch of us went to be the Benefactors. While each member of the family, and I mean each and every one, is required to find at least one soul to assist and aid into reaching their dreams, the Benefactors studied how to sustain the charitable foundation and CSR projects. They were the ones that the others went to for approval of their beneficiaries, financial aid requests, and other important charity stuff. They investigate and decide whether it would be worth it and then they open the flood gates.
Another group goes to yet another category, the Board. I call them the most supportive because they were the ones who were willing to work behind the scenes, follow orders, and be excellent with the nitty gritty. The tasks are delegated to them, and of all things, the professors taught them to focus on loyalty. They would not inherit the empire but they become the confidants of the heirs because they are the ones who help them pull the empire together.
Of the Board kids, the professors would pick out the physically strong ones. They're the most interested in sports and martial arts, so they're trained to protect. Hence, the ones we call the Protectors. Like a spin-off from a good TV series, this specialization was started when one of Caroline's great-nephews was kidnapped for his fortune. Caroline's successor as an Educator decided that we should also have the most loyal guards who would love us and protect us at all costs. Where to better find them than from our own blood?
Then there's another group that's taken from the children of the current CEO, or as we call it on the inside - the Owner. As for this generation, my father's children.
It's us - from Tyler to Serena.
We are the Legacies. Only from us will the next heir be. It's not the whole empire that we have the chance to inherit but the decisions, the peacemaking, and the putting it all together in a single pristine piece one day at a time. Yes, the biggest portion was for the heir, but so was the biggest responsibility. The evaluation had gone through Tyler, Addy, and Brent, but the professors haven't chosen from them. That's why all eyes were on me since the day I was born.
The Institute would admit Barden kids when we reached four years of age. As young as ten, we would get evaluated by the professors regarding which category would suit us and whether we were ready to advance. Some do get the promotion but others may have to wait a little longer. But at twelve, ready or not, a Barden must advance.
Those who go to the Board would wait until they were fourteen or sixteen to get their specialization, except for the Protectors. They get to be picked out from the lot as soon as they advanced to the Board.
As for us, Legacies, from the very beginning we would take different exams from them all. When one of us turned seven, they would see if the child has the interest and capacity to lead. If not, he or she would continue with the other kids and then get evaluated at ten for the other categories. However, if the kid showed the signs and potential, then another series of evaluations would follow until he or she turned twelve, when the professors would decide whether or not the heir had been born. Then the one named Heir would be mentored by the current Owner, allowed to go to board meetings and get a peek of the actual happenings in all the businesses.
The twins and Kai weren't Dad's biological kids so even though they're Legacies, the Institute decided they couldn't be candidates to become the heir. My biological brothers then raised the professors' hopes up because of their intellectual prowess. But there hadn't been anyone named the heir until my twelfth year at the Institute.
For the first time in a long while, the Heir is a girl.
I once asked Dad how it came to be that his surname was still Barden when there had been a female Owner before. He answered that in which case, her children's surnames would take after her instead of her husband. So far, they were all fine with it since the husbands of all Barden girls were, luckily, proper gentlemen who were genuine to their wives. He concluded the conversation by advising me to meticulously pick mine.
Over the years, there were controversies, conflicts, and misunderstandings in our system. But they held the tradition up and because the generations were actually small in number, it was easy for them to table every discussion. Apparently, our generation was the biggest yet we're all still getting along.
Tyler had been an Educator and now he is a professor, potentially the Chancellor after Dad's cousin, Aunt Merida. Addy and Gabe went to the Board and specialized in Finance and Human Resource, respectively. There's some talk going around that they might be the next executives of those divisions. Mike was a Benefactor who now works at the foundation. His own projects there are mostly focused on African kids interested in robotics, like he is since childhood. While Brent followed after Mike at the Benefactors, Kai decided to be a Protector. He is now training under our Uncle Shane to guard my future heir.
"They were not cut-out for it," Dad told me once.
"Do you think I am?" I had asked.
He had looked me in the eye as he answered, "Let me tell you a secret: the Institute chooses the heir by only two criteria – thirty percent capability and seventy percent willingness. You weren't the only one who has the potential to master every Barden Institute division. All of you have no specialization so you were given the privilege to choose your own turf. And you are the only one who didn't. I, my father before me, and all the heirs before had one answer to that last question, 'Which one would you want to lead, if given the choice?' Do you remember what you said?"
I nodded. "Any one," I had answered the panel of aunts and uncles. "Or every one,"
The empire valued leadership to the highest esteem. The head should be a driven, strong, and able volunteer. Not all Legacies are as brave, Dad would say. But he and I were.
My heir-naming was more than three years ago. In less than two months, I will be turning sixteen and everyone expects me to start showing my prowess. The others may start working for the company at twenty or older but Dad said the heir should serve early because he or she will benefit from the privileges early too. Needless to say, I am under pressure.
And I lived for it.