The Legend of The Slave King Read online

The Legend of The Slave King: The Mystery of Misery’s Sorrow

  Book One in The Road Back to Effúlgia Series

  by Justin Kauer

  Copyright 2015 Justin Kauer

  All rights reserved

  Published by Justin Kauer

  Cover image Copyright Justin Kauer

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental unless you happen to live in Effulgia. In such a case, you may need to seek professional help.

  Table of Contents

  Chapter One - The Fires of Hope

  Chapter Two – Cooking Something Up

  Chapter Three – Ryan’s Wagon

  Chapter Four - The Fires of Hope

  Chapter Five - Attempt at Awakening

  Chapter Six - The Fires of Hope

  Chapter Seven - Legend

  Chapter Eight - Legend Begins

  Chapter Nine – Thieves

  Chapter Ten – A Falling Out

  Chapter Eleven – Back in Bonds

  Chapter Twelve- Unraveling of Bonds

  Chapter Thirteen – Déjà Vu

  Chapter Fourteen - Legend Begins

  Chapter Fifteen - Misery’s Sorrow

  More from Justin Kauer

  Chapter One - The Fires of Hope

  As we each begin our individual quests in life and try to figure out who we really are in our heart of hearts — who it is that God knows we may become — most of us are given a name by which we will be known throughout our lives. So, what is in a name, what happens when it is lost, and what dangers does such an occurrence present?

  It was a night that seemed to be lit up with the purest of magic, as the campfire roared, along with the radiance of the early autumn sunset that began to dwindle into chilling twilight, and as family old and young all gathered round to share in the warmth of the fire and bask in the glow of the stories that were about to be told. While the night grew darker, the stories grew more and more delightful, details of hunts and battles became greater and more and more embellished, much to the laughter of all who were listening. Eyes and hearts seemed to glow in the dark as blankets were passed out and cuddling commenced, while the stories continued. Lost ones of the family were remembered with both tears of sorrow at remembering the loss and tears of joy for their having passed to the next life, gratitude was expressed for the blessings which those loved ones were in the lives of each family member, plans were made for future ventures. Young ones’ eyes grew wide from tales of danger and peril. Old ones’ eyes shone more fondly as they watched the delight in their young ones’ faces. Love was woven tightly around them all.

  It was the same every year for as long as the grandchildren could remember. The family pilgrimage was an event that was anticipated every year, just as the celebration of Christ’s Birth, The Resurrection, and other great holidays were revered and celebrated. Still, this was, in many ways a somewhat more special occasion, or at least different, as it had become a family tradition all of their own. It had been forgotten by many as to when the first of such outings actually began, but it was known that it was a special time of the year that had great meaning to the family. Much of said meaning was not really even discussed, even around the campfire, but all seemed to understand.

  This particular night seemed destined to be the greatest of nights ever had by the family around the campfire. The flames leaped higher and brighter as the tales just rolled off of the tongues of each that took their turns telling tales that elicited squeals of delight from those who listened. At times, laughter would begin in a loud roar, followed by silence, only to erupt again after all caught their breath at the same time. But, perhaps the main reason behind the magic was that two voices rang out that had been missing for a couple of years. They were the voices of the great patriarch and his wife. They had not been able to accompany the crowd, for the matriarch had been ill these three years, and though they had not missed the pilgrimage the first year, it had taken a great toll on her health. Her loyal husband would not make the journey without her, especially while she was not feeling well. Should her health turn for the worse while he were gone, he would never forgive himself. Since then, however, she had recovered most of her strength and was able to convince the others to let her go.

  A brief respite was offered, as the food had been prepared by the servants that had been picked to come on the journey (straws had to be drawn to see who should remain behind and who should travel with the royal family; the servants would not miss one of these outings for the world, especially now that the King and Queen were to travel!) You see, the King had a way of telling stories that would make the very air catch fire with amazing brilliance. He could hold an audience deeply enthralled with keen expectation right up until the last words that would almost always unfold a great bit of wisdom or a deep insight into the whole story that otherwise would never have been apparent. To say that his audiences were captive is an understatement, for they would willingly stay spellbound in a state of suspended marvel, partly because of the quality of the story, and partly because of the love they had for the teller of the tale; said love was great. So, the servants were delighted to go wherever he went and equally enchanted to serve him and his family along the way.

  Supper over with, the storytelling began anew. The king got up and called for the wagon to be brought to the fire so that he could be seen and heard by all that were gathered around the fire. Then he called all of the servants to stop what they were doing and join in the story. He placed a couple of logs on the fire, helped his good wife up to her seat, and then climbed up to the driver’s seat which now faced the fire. He watched the flames curl around the wood of the newly placed logs in the fire and lick the sides, leaving dark trails that soon started to glow and then burst into flame where the tongues had passed over the bark. His gaze grew distant, and his eyes glazed over for a moment . . . until his wife grabbed his hand and held it.

  “There is a great lot of things that I must tell you all.” began the king, all of a sudden. “While some of these things which I am going to tell have been shared already tonight, I must say that there has been much second-hand information and the many embellishments that have been added actually weaken the truth of what transpired. I do not blame the story teller, for he did try his best to do the story justice. However, for me, the story has much greater meaning as I have a unique insight as far as the story is concerned. So, now, with the help of my lovely wife, I (we, actually) will tell you the truth of the story that has now come to be known as ‘The Slave King’, or ‘The Great Bandit King’!”

  Squeals of delight arose from the servants and served alike!

  “Make no mistake!” he continued. “I tell it now. . . not that you may have great marvels to tell around a campfire, I’m sure that you will continue to tell the tale even long after I have left the tale that is my life on this sphere. However, the reason that I tell it to you now is simply to correct, for the record, the discrepancies that are had among the various versions of the story.

  “It is true that I have not been able to join you on the journeys of the last two years. I have also noted that, rather than to visit the various sites in the list of notable places customarily seen along the way in a chronological way, that a new route has been devised to shorten the length of the journey, rather than the correct order of things. What I tell you here will give you a greater sense of the reason why I decided to have a pilgrimage of this sort in the very first place. While it is important merely to have each of my family members along on the jou
rney, I should equally like them to be given the significance of the journey and sacrifice that was shown and given to the country which we all dearly love, even the great Effulgia, that they do the same!

  “I want each of you to look into the flames and watch those flames that burn brightly there! Such is youth! It burns so brightly at first, but as the energy of the flames is given off, there is much smoke and spark as the impurities are burnt off. Just as these flames burn brightly before us now, so did the days of the young hero burn away, and, seemingly, as quickly.”

  As the king told the tale, the flames would leap from the wood into the air and dance into figures that seemed to act out the very tale, as he told them of love and war — and the passion and honor, as well as the pitfalls and triumphs in both.

  Chapter Two – Cooking Something Up