The Interloper (Divergent Path

Disclaimer: The character of Melthurian, as well as the setting of Briarwood and all associated names, are owned by King Mel. Unless directly stated otherwise by him, nothing in this work should be considered canon to his characters or universe- this is loosely based on his canon, with a fair amount of homebrewed content to fill in gaps and flesh out the narrative. Please check out his music on SoundCloud and YouTube, and give him a follow on Twitter and Bluesky!

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The land of Briarwood was a realm of definite contrast. The nobles of the Crimson Court walked around adorned in the finest clothing and jewelry, while in the mysterious Magus Hamlet, those rare few with access to magic enjoyed a privileged existence, puppeting the laws of nature and the affairs of the kingdom alike as they rubbed elbows with the elite. Traders would converge in Westmarch to hawk their wares, drawing in visitors near and far who would marvel at the glittering splendor, and give praise to the monarch that ruled over it.

Yet venture to the outskirts and the region of Duskhaven, and you would find a crumbling waste. Commoners were often lucky to wear clean fabric. Houses rotted and crumbled. Ill and infirm lined the streets, which in turn were broken and filled with miasmic water. Here, misery and suffering were the code of everyday life, and corrupt guards and enforcers were only too happy to maintain that status quo.

This was by design. The king had claimed his dominion by right of conquest some years ago, and ever since, he'd dressed his realm in a mask of prosperity to conceal the terror holding it together. Dissent was silenced quickly. Aid was dispensed only when essential to keeping the state running. There was even talk of dark creatures and rites afoot, with rumors swirling of monsters attacking unwary citizens in the night. And he was always watching from within his great Ruby Fortress, wallowing in the anguish of his subjects as if nourished by it.

Yet in recent times, hopeful whispers abounded- talk of good fortune and change rarely seen outside the inner rings. Those who were sick and dying found themselves healed. Prisoners being transported to the dungeons were spirited away, slipping past the borders to find sanctuary in foreign lands. Fewer and fewer creatures were being sighted, and travel was becoming safer and easier. Guards who brutalized common folk would be found maimed or slain, and so maintained a wary distance. A strange, cautious hope had begun to fill the kingdom's lower reaches.

And the king was less than thrilled.

Mel glared at the attendant before him. "Nothing, Alphonse?" the goat asked coldly.

The spider flinched. "N...No, sire. It's the same as always- soldiers descend on the sites of incident reports, but by then things have already calmed."

"And what of scrying?!" the king demanded. "Surely one of my legions of mages would detect something?!"

Alphonse swallowed. "They... They all say the same thing, sire- any time one of them attempts to, they are all-but blinded." He hesitated. "I wonder if..."

Mel raised an eyebrow. "'If...?'"

Alphonse didn't speak for a moment, then took a deep breath. "...Begging pardon, sire, but... your own powers have... diminished lately, yes?"

Mel's expression grew irritated. "Are you offering to test that claim?"

He flinched. "N-No, sire! I mean no disrespect, of course! B...But... If your powers have weakened... perhaps the other mages are suffering something similar...?"

Mel growled lightly. "...Perhaps..."

He knew that this wasn't the case, of course, merely wishing to deflect his attendant away from the true answer. Most of Mel's entourage of magicians drew their power from a variety of sources- but Mel's own power derived from a... particular benefactor. One who demanded particular payment, in the form of misery and suffering. Mel himself needed to regularly drain the blood of prisoners and other hapless victims just to maintain his abilities, and further payments were needed on top of that. Luckily, his subjects' wills were fairly easily broken.