Maxus, Backstory

Chapter 1:

He shivered, subtly. Sweat dripped from his brow as he removed the crown.

Filled with too much shame to even open his eyes, and face his audience. A thousand bloodied faces, a million glaring eyes pierced into his very being.  He struggled to keep from tearing up.

Maxus hesitantly placed his crown on the seat of his throne; staring blankly at it for a moment. He breathed deeply. It was over now. All of it. Everything he had ever known was gone. He thought back to when he first donned the crown, all those years ago. He was younger then. So arrogant, so naive, so ambitious. He believed nothing could get in his way. He had been training for the role since he could walk. Maxus vowed to himself to be the greatest king, Encarta had ever know. No, the greatest king the world had ever known. Under his rule, the kingdom had prospered more then anyone had ever thought possible. But look at him now. A failure. A disgrace. A monster. One mistake that no number of good deeds could ever make up for.

Maxus slowly turned, facing the crowd. He glanced toward the castle windows, still unable to look them in the eye. It was so nice out. The sun shined so brightly, a calm and reassuring promise. A light breeze patterned leaves softly against the window. The sky glowed a brilliant shade of eye-watering blue. Maxus smiled a little from the view. At least there was some light in this darkness.

The moment faded with the sounds of booing. Cries of sadness and rage filled his ears. The aching in their hearts could be hear vividly. Maxus could hold out now longer. A tear rolled down his cheek. His chest pounded. He felt his throat tighten in sorrow. It hurt, so much. He wished from every part of his soul to be anywhere else.

Maxus took a slow step forward. He wiped his eyes quickly, and attempted to regain his composure. The half-elf cleared his throat, and began to speak. "These past few days shall forever been known as the darkest days in Encarta's long history. We wished this day had never come... But here I stand before you, afraid. No eye in the kingdom remains dry. No heart left unbroken."

Maxus stood a little straighter. "Today," he continued, "marks a new day. As another takes my place,-", many people cheered at this comment, " a new hope shall rise, and shine before you. My only wish-." An object flew by Maxus's face, barely missing him. he cut of, looking back the the object. A smashed tomato slip down the wall behind him. Only a few feet away from the throne. Maxus looked back at the crowd, preparing himself.

There were several bursts of shouting, intensifying more and more every second. A man stood up, crying out "Why would we care about your wishes?" Another man hurled an old boot at the previous ruler. It hit Maxus's right shoulder, hard.

Maxus grabbed his shoulder, and cried out in pain. More shouts of anger rose from the crowd. They echoed loudly over the stone walls. He had to escape. Maxus started to panick, eyeing the escape passage behind the throne.

Only royalty knew of the passage. He was made when the castle was built, centuries ago. It was designed so the castle royal could escape in the necessity arose. It only opened from the outside. Once closed, it could be sealed permanently, so no one else could enter, to avoid enemies from following them. The door was hidden directly behind the throne, so it could not be spotted by wondering eyes.

Smash! A boot hit the side of Maxus's head. His ear rang loudly. He suddenly became dizzy, and struggled to keep his balance, but failed. He fell to one knee. Still clutching his shoulder, he peered at the crowd. His vision was doubled. Several man in the crowd began pushing through the thick gathering. Charging for the platform the Maxus was kneeling on.

Maxus shook his head violently, trying to clear his distortion. He had to get out of there before they killed him. The guards that previously given their lives for him without a second thought, now were among the faces demanding his head. He lunged for the throne, grasping at the brass arms for balance.

More people from the crowd begin moving towards Maxus. It was apparent that he would be dead soon, if he didn't get away. Using all the force he could muster, he pushed the throne to the side. Several people began to understand what he was doing. The people in the front started towards the stairs, quickly gaining on him.

Maxus Whipped open the small door, and crawled through the narrow passage. A man leaped for the doorway, to stop it from closing. His fingers closed around the side before Maxus could close it fully. He kicked at the man's hand, fiercely. Maxus hard a cry of pain, and the man's grip loosened. He slammed the door close, flipped the latch. The was loud banging on the door from the outside. The door was thick, and should hold easily. But he decided it was best not to trust three hundred year ago locksmithing.

Maxus crawled forward throw the narrow pitch-black passage.

It's seemed like ages. Inch after inch. Meter after meter. How much time has passed? How much distance ahead? Maxus's muscles ached everywhere. It felt like hours have passed. The passageway, though slightly larger then at the entrance, was quite small. Maxus was forced to crouch the entire way. It felt like his spine could split at any moment, now.

The passage was designed to be navigated with a torch. Though in the rush of the crowd, he didn't exactly have time to prepare. Maxus collapsed with his back against the wall. His hands were cut raw from feeling his way along the rough walls. He held them on his lap, palms up.

Maxus closed his eyes, and breathed deeply. It was so quite here. Nothing seemed to exist anymore, other then him. Him and this tunnel. He needed to get some rest. It would likely be a while before he reached the end of the passage. The tunnel led deep underground, and went on for miles, toward the outskirts of the city. Maxus couldn't remember where it ended. He didn't even know if it had been used before. He breathed deeply again. The sound echoed slightly down the tunnel.

Maxus gave himself a few minutes. He took off his robe, and started to fold it into a makeshift pillow. Was it always this brisk in here? Maxus shivered. He folded his arms, carefully to avoid touching his palms. As he started to lay his head onto the soft fabric, something tickled his nose. He brushed it off, thinking nothing of it.

Maxus's eyes drifted closed, slowly. So... tired...  Something tickled his arm, and raced up the his shoulder. His eyes burst open, as he leaped up, frantically brushing at his sleeve. He screamed, loudly.

The sound traveled far, in the quiet passageway. Maxus was frightened and enraged. After he was sure the insect was gone, he fell to his knees, and covered his face with his hands. Tears flooded down his cheeks. He couldn't hold it in, anymore. He weaped, loudly.

He hurt, deeply. His muscles felt like mush. His bones felt like twigs, ready to go at any time. And his heart, oh his heart held the greatest weight. It felt like it shattered, puncturing all of his other organs. His ribs throbbed from taking the abuse of his pounding heart.

He cried harshly until his eye's dried out, and could produce no more tears. He felt numb. His arms fell to his sides, lifelessly.

Maxus stared into the darkness. Unable to even tell if his eyes were open or closed. He stared for a long time. The wires in his mind flickering in every direction possible. He face, emotionless.

Maxus let himself fall backwards, his head hitting the pillow. He watched the ceiling for hours, until time blurred, and reality faded away. Maxus drifted into a rough, painful, anxiety-filled sleep. Caring not if he even awoke the next morning.