Chapter 2.14: The Enochian Tower

Bruq picks up one of the arrows he shot. It looks resuable enough and he puts it back in his quiver. He joins the others, all discussing what to do with the prizes.
“I think we should all take something”, Oslando says. “If you take it now, you know what you get and what you will miss. You can find something better for the thing you’ll never have. Also, running into it seven years later or something like that, who knows if you still need it then?”
Dargothoth and Bruq nod in agreement.
“Psst, Mero”, a young, boyish voice speaks, “take me out of your pocket. I want to shine my light on what you need to pick.”
He feels it is the voice of the gemstone, even though he remembers the tone of its voice differently. The puppet reaches into the inside pocket of his blue cloak and pulls out the gemstone. It pulsates rapidly.
(Intelligence 11)
“I have a question for you, crystal. What were you before this form? Lyssa is speaking to another pirate, if I understand it correctly, and Oslando had to help a murdered boy. Were you one of the halflings the ogres killed? How are we connected?”
The crystal stops glowing, revealing its true color without the distortion of the green light. It’s almost perfectly see-through, but there is something that swirls inside. It’s milky white and moves around slowly.
“I was a halfling, indeed, but none of those you found. Those were my children. I know I sound young, but I am old, older than you, I can guarantee it. When I became a father without children, I prayed to the gods to bring me back my children. I tried everything to bring them back… I did some unholy things, Merodius, and I guess this is my punishment. Or salvation, depending how you look at it. I had these emotions of guilt and grief, but now I am no longer troubled by them.”
Two of the closest objects on the pedestals materialize, but the sorcerer has only attention for the sadness he holds in his hand.
“What did you do to bring your children back? Did it work?”
The crystal doesn’t respond immediately. Mero waits patiently until the light starts shining again.
“My brethren and I performed rituals to bring back their souls, searching the border between this world and the afterlife to see if we could bring them back. We only found one soul and brought him back, but it was no child of mine.”
Mero continues staring, the eyes of his fake face fixated on the reflection of himself.
“What happened?” Again, a short silence.
“You know”, the gem says, “that mask doesn’t really hide your unnatural appearance, Merodius Darvantigo, but I would have not recognized you if it wasn’t for your wizard hat.”
“Sorcerer hat, not wizard”, he reacts as if it was a reflex, just before he realizes what the gemstone is telling him. He removes his hat and takes off the white mask. The illusory face disappears and the others stare at something they haven’t seen before. Black rags are stitched together all around his head. A few strands of straw are supposed to be his hairs and within two empty eye sockets glow two small, faint white lights with a blueish afterglow.
“You are the one that brought me back? Captured me inside this scarecrow?”
“Yes, I am. I thought I…” He stops mid-sentence as orange flames crawl out of the white glove and dance violently around the precious stone. “I am indestructible, Merodius. You can’t hurt me even I wanted to.”
The puppet shakes his head. “No, no, no. You can’t tell me I was a mistake. That I wasn't supposed to exist, that a halfling child was supposed to live inside this body. Is that the reason I’m so small? Is that why I was so unloved?”
They all fall silent. The hopelessness in his voice moves the spectators.
“All memories I have are of people telling me I am worthless”, he cries, “that I belonged nowhere. No home, no family or friends, just a slave when it was convenient for someone to have me around and after they were done, they kicked me out. I don’t want believe these memories, halfling. I am not worthless.”
He puts away the crystal before it can speak again, knowing that hiding it won’t stop it from entering his mind.

“We said this before, friend”, Oslando says with a kind voice, “and I will say it again and again until you believe me. You are not worthless. Whatever the gemstone told you can all just be a trick, something to demotivate you for whatever lies ahead. The halflings you remember are wrong.”
Lyssa kneels beside him and stares him in his ghostly eyes. “You are my friend, a friend to all of us. Hell, I even think the evil child-eating dragonman likes you and that, I think, is quite the achievement.”
She looks over her shoulder and with a stringent expression she almost forces Dargothoth to agree.
“This is true”, he says calmly, feeling his stomach turn when he speaks these words of kindness. “Also, you don’t have to wear the mask around us. I think we are the most abnormal bunch of creatures together, except the half-blood over there.” He points to Oslando. “Stand up and be true to the person you are now.”
He gets on his feet again. “Thanks”, he whispers. “I know I don’t have to wear the mask, but I feel more comfortable when I do.”
Bruq shrugs. “Just wear the mask, but know we would accept you without it as well.”
As the blank artificial face gets its features back, he looks at them with glee, only to be completely taken what he sees behind them.

“Can I choose that? That is so amazing!” He runs to the two pedestals, obviously fixated by only one of them. “I’m going to pick this one!” He points to the hat on the marble podium. An azure blue pointy hat, covered with small silver stars, floats just within his reach if he would jump a little.
“Are you sure you don’t want to check out the other object?” Oslando points at the other pedestal. “Looks quite magical as well.”
(Arcana 8)
Mero, moping internally, turns around and looks at a rather old looking piece of parchment with a spell written on it. “Well, I have no idea what spell it is, but if I need it at some point, something similar will come to me by then.”
The satyr makes a step towards the scroll, observing it as well. “But if you study it now, you’ll be able to cast if later.”
Mero shakes his head fiercely. “Studying is for wizards, not for sorcerers! Magic should come to you by nature, not nurture. I would spit in front of their feet if I could spit, but I can’t. And I won’t lower myself to their level. I will get hold of eventually as I grow stronger.”

It surprises them all how firmly he despises wizards and how unchangeable and distinct he shares this opinion aloud. It feels so unnatural, so unlike the Mero they know. 

“Okay, okay, sorry I suggested it. Just take the hat.”
He nods steadfastly. “I will.”

“You know”, Lyssa says to Mero with a smile, “that hot temper of yours will eventually be the cause of you spontaneously combusting.”
It doesn’t bother him. His expression just shouts overjoyed in every direction.
“Well, at least I will look rather magical while dying”, he kids and he salutes the siren captain by tipping his new sorcerer hat.