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A Short, semi-humorous alternate theory on how Maximus lost his sword. Enjoy!
Chronicles of the Great Archipelago: Volume 2.5
Or
How Maximus Really Lost His Sword
Maximus resurfaced in the waters around Alexandria just as Appolyon, the King of Demons, fired the cursed blast at his partner, Quinn. There was a blinding flash then Maximus was on his own. Cursing under his breath, Maximus tucked his sword- he still gripped it tightly in his gloved hand- and swam for shore.
“Guess I’m on my own for a while,” he muttered in between strokes.
“No, I won’t let him sign that decree,” Maximus protested adamantly. There was only one of him and there was a great big group of them. Still, he had his sword, imbued with light magick. He had to protect the King, the monarchy, the Archipelago.
After all, it was sort of his fault…and Quinn’s but no one could find him. In their efforts to stop the King of Demons, things had been broken, buildings had been razed, and entire islands had been ruined. Quinn had often suggested a delicate touch; he had often asked what that meant.
Somehow, some of the people around the court believed that it was the King’s fault. That Appolyon was just an invention to boost the monarchy’s mediocre popularity. It had apparently backfired. Instead of his popularity increasing, it had plummeted to an all-time low. Maximus wasn’t exactly favoured at the moment either. The masses were siding with the court; more people were turning against the King by the day. Instead of a monarchy, Augustus wanted to experiment with a democracy. No doubt he would give himself a cushy position- even cushier than his present one.
“Fine.” the clerk snapped, waving his papers in Maximus’ face before turning on his heels and stalking away down the corridor. The other courtiers narrowed their eyes at him and followed him. He slowed and let his peers pass him. Once they had turned the corner at the end of the corridor, he turned around and glared at Maximus again. “I’ll come back when you’re off chasing harlots.”
Damn. There went his plans for the night.
Once Augustus had left, he relaxed and slid back against the wall. He couldn’t keep this up. Quinn was the diplomat; he just hit things. The door next to him opened and the Princess, Lydia, slipped out into the hall.
“Lydia,” Maximus sighed, releasing his grip on his sword. Ah, his sword. Along with Quinn, it was his trusted companion. He’d never let it go. If he should ever die, he wanted to be buried with it.
“Maximus,” Lydia returned, adjusting the tiara that sat on her head. She had helped keep the courtiers at bay as well. Though her father, King Julian, was somewhat weak-willed, Lydia had inherited none of it. Maybe that was what Quinn saw in her. “Have they gone?”
“For now,” he answered, glancing down the corridor, expecting to see Augustus spying on them. Thankfully, there was no one there. They were on their own. “They’ll get to him eventually. You do know that, right?”
“But we can’t let that happen!” Lydia declared passionately, her beautiful face steeled into an iron façade. It was because of the monarchy that the Archipelago could truly be called great. Before, the islands were individual states, constantly warring with each other. There were no victors in those times, only victims. “It is the monarchy that keeps the Great Archipelago together. Without it, all will be lost!”
“Lydia, at the moment, the Archipelago is together against the monarchy. The people are crying out for blood. We’re facing a revolution,” Maximus argued heatedly. Keeping a group of academic courtiers at bay was proving challenge enough. There was no way he could still the discontent of the masses. “It’s only a matter of time. Would you rather see a living father or a dead king?”
“Time; we just don’t have enough of it,” Lydia bit her lip pensively. She knew Maximus was right. If they only had more time, they may be able to save the crown. Until then, they would just have keep fighting the courtiers at every turn. She looked hopefully at Maximus, straight into his green eyes. “Has there been any word of Quinn?”
“None,” Maximus sighed, watching Lydia’s head droop in disappointment. The King of Demons had also mysteriously disappeared but Lydia couldn’t have cared less about him. If he was really banished then their quest would have come to an end. But. But it just didn’t feel right. Maximus didn’t want to acknowledge the feeling in the pit of his stomach that that fiend was still around. “I haven’t even found his body…so there’s still hope,”
“Keep looking for him, Maximus. For me,” Lydia asked, her eyes taking on a soft wistful touch. She stroked his cheek gently and he caught her hand in his. Maximus secretly hoped that, some day, he would find a woman as lovely as Lydia. “You should rest. I’ll stay by my father’s side until you return,”
“Yes, Princess,” Maximus nodded seriously. Yes, they could only slow the courtiers down but not stop them. Augustus would get his way eventually. But that wouldn’t stop them giving him hell while they could. Maximus admired Lydia’s resolve. One day, she would make a good Queen.
Pulling his short cloak close to him, he turned and headed down the corridor. He had been to the King’s Palace, on Alexandria, the Royal Island, many times during his adventures with Quinn but even now he couldn’t find his way around. After wandering around for half an hour, and fearing he was going around in circles, Maximus finally found a servant and asked for directions.
Now led by someone who knew where they were going, it only took Maximus five minutes to get out of the palace. She stopped at the inner gate. There were only the palace gardens to navigate now, and as the outer gate was at the end of a straight path from there, she hoped Maximus could find his way out from there.
“There you are, Master Maximus,” she bowed low respectfully to the hero. He had the respect of the King and his daughter; if they treated him with honour then so should she. “We look forward to your return,”
“Thank you,” Maximus waved an informal hand with gratitude. After so many visits, he should be embarrassed- he wasn’t. He took the servant’s hand in his and placed a light kiss on it. He met her gaze and raised his eyebrows cheekily. “I’ll return all the swifter just to see you,”
“Oh, Maximus!” the servant giggled before dashing away into the palace. Maximus straightened himself up as he watched her disappear. In a small part of his mind, he wondered why they always laughed when he said that.
Ignoring the voices in his head, Maximus turned and walked through the gardens. It was spring and everything looked fresh and new, though Maximus thought they looked best in the winter.
He slowly strolled through the city of Alexandria, contemplating which of the city’s inns he should drink and enjoy the company of women in. It was when he had turned off the main street that something broke his reverie.
He found himself standing in front of a shop that he had never really noticed before. Quinn may have mentioned it before but it was a new experience for Maximus. The sign above the door advertised for Antiques, Curios and All Things Magickal. Considering the nature of his adventures, Maximus, reasoned that there might be something of use to him in there. He walked inside…
And was immediately set upon by a box of bat-wings. When he had opened the door, it had upset the irresponsibly placed shelf and the box had fallen onto him. Caught off-guard by the wings, Maximus fell to the floor, upsetting more trinkets.
“Ah, a customer,” A shrill voice noticed from somewhere deep within the shop. Maximus couldn’t see the owner of the voice because there was too much junk in the way. He suspected that the shop didn’t get much business. “Tidy up those ingredients and then we’ll talk,”
Maximus obediently did as he was told, replacing the box of bat wings in the same place, ready to fall on the next person who made the mistake of entering this store, at least through the door. He began to pick his way through the various odds, evens, and generally in betweens, only stopping when his clothes were caught on some ancient and magickal weapon. He eventually reached an apparently empty table, which he assumed was the counter. There was no one there.
“Hello?” He called deeper into the shop. It just seemed to go on and on. The only light in the shop came from the holes in roof. He couldn’t see any windows. Slowly wafting towards him, Maximus could smell a strangely delicious scent. He licked his lips in anticipation, forgetting that he was in a shop and not a bakery.
“Yes?” a shrunken old man, hopped into view on a stool behind the counter. He had only been on the other side of the table; unfortunately, he was too short to be seen without the stool. His- completely bald- face seemed to consist of nothing but wrinkles. It was if he was continuously sucking a lemon. “Can I help you?”
“I don’t know, can you?” Maximus asked, perplexed. He really had no idea what he was doing in a place like this. Quinn would love it. He loved anything smart- Maximus just hit stuff. He hadn’t seen anything that really interested him; nothing with curves in the right places.
“Ah, I can tell what you need!” the man exclaimed, shooting his hand into the air. He knew a pigeon when he saw one. All he had to do was work out what made him tick. Hmm, the boy was handsome but was rather stupid-looking. Aha! “You have miserable luck with women and you seek to improve your fate!”
“That’s a lie,” Maximus snapped, slamming his hands down on the table so hard that the old man almost toppled over backwards. The vendor regarded him coolly. Quietening down, Maximus looked away cautiously. “I’m quite popular,”
“Fear not, young one, for I have what you seek,” the old man continued. Hah, he was too good at this. One day, he would make enough money to move into a bigger and better shop and then he could scam loads of people. Maximus watched as he hopped off his stool and rummaged through some boxes that were lying on the floor. After a cry of exclamation, he threw a bottle onto the table and clambered back onto his seat.
“What’s this?” Maximus asked curiously, turning the bottle round in his hand. It wasn’t labelled but it was carved out of the most exquisite purple crystal that he had ever seen. Inside, a clear liquid sloshed around lethargically.
“That is a mystical potion that I acquired many years ago on my travels. The witch who entrusted it to me promised that one sip would make me irresistible to any woman that saw me. I think that this magickal drink would be of more use to you than to me. You are still in the prime of your life; you should enjoy it while you can.” the old man narrated smoothly. He was pretty good at lying when he tried.
“Is that true?” Maximus asked incredulously.
“Absolutely,” The peddler nodded solemnly. The fish had taken the bait. All he had to do was reel him in.
“I’ll take it!” Maximus smiled, banging his fist on the table again. Yes, he was good with the ladies but he could always be better. This was his ticket to doing just that. He began reaching for the small bag of change hanging at his belt. “How much do you want for it?”
“Put your silver and gold away, young one. They are no good here. Why, the glass alone is far beyond your limits,” the old man refused stubbornly, folding his arms in defiance. Maximus slumped a little; what was the point of showing him the potion if he wasn’t going to sell it? Seeing his crestfallen customer, the old man grinned slyly. He began to rub his hands together. “However, I will accept a trade.”
“A trade?” Maximus echoed, somewhat suspicious.
“A trade. One magickal artefact for another. Surely you have something that could interest me,” the old man looked Maximus up and down greedily. He would leave the shop lighter; the old man was certain of that. “Do you have any mystical herbs, or rare plants? Maybe some ancient tinctures. A sword perhaps?”
“Yes, I have a sword!” Maximus nodded eagerly. Hmm, but should he part with it? It was certainly magickal, blessed by the witch, Mabel, herself. But how would he defend himself against the forces of evil? Wait. Appolyon was gone, right? So he didn’t need to defend against evil anymore. Yes, he didn’t need a sword like that anymore. It would only weigh him down. Yes, he could trade it. He drew it from its scabbard, showering the room in light Magick as he did so. He placed it on the table next to the potion.
“Ah, very good, young one,” the old man smiled gleefully. He had caught a really dumb bass this time. He had struck it lucky. He would have thought that someone this stupid would have had a smarter partner to protect them from people like him. “You may take the potion and I will take your sword,”
“Right,” Maximus nodded, taking up the bottle and turning to leave. He had to test its effect for himself as soon as possible.
“But wait, young one,” The old man called after him. To be honest, he felt bad scamming the boy like that. Only a little though. Still, he could always even the trade up. “Our transaction is not done yet,”
“What do we have to do now?” Maximus returned, hopping from foot to foot. Just imagining the effects of the elixir on his already powerful libido was making him dribble.
“We must share a meal,” the old man explained, reaching down under the counter and producing the source of the aroma Maximus had smelt when he first entered, a freshly baked apple tart.
“Ooh, pie!”
Thankfully, his street had been built close to the edge and the sea wasn’t further than a stone’s throw away. That was also fortunate because, advancing in years as he was, he could no longer throw things very far anymore.
As he stood on the edge, the sea just one step in front of him, the old man paused. Was this really a good idea? What if it really was a magickal sword? It may be of use in decade’s time, maybe even centuries. Maybe, one day, it would help defend the Great Archipelago from the King of Demons, the foulest of evils?
“Nah!” he decided and threw the sword away into the sea, letting the waves claim it.
