I stood in front of the statue they dedicated to Mandrake. It's quite the piece of work, I'll give 'em that. Whoever made it is quite talented. In fact, its almost perfect. Only one thing is wrong, wait no, two.
1. The name on the statue. I know it shouldn't bother me, after all Mandrake is who the public knew. Mandrake was powerful, famous, he is the one the public honors, whereas Nathaniel... Only two people ever knew him by that name. Only two people will ever know who the real savior of this wretched world is. But you see, Nathaniel is the only one of the two who is worth remembering. The only one worth mourning. The only one worth loving. The world may honor John Mandrake, but Nathaniel is the one who's loss is mourned.
2. The eyes. Everything about the sculpture is to the tee, but not the eyes. They are empty and hallow, void of that fire that used to inhabit Nathaniel's. there is no passion, no anger, no glint of annoyance or sparkle of suppressed laughter. They are cold, empty... Dead. Like him. Those eyes are a reminder that no amount of wishing, and no amount of gazing longingly up at statues will bring him back.
Kitty's the one who summoned me back to this hell hole. When I first felt the pull of the summoning, I had let myself believe, just for a second, that it would be Nathaniel standing in that pentacle, hands on his hips, an annoyed expression on his face saying 'demon, I charge you with the task of...'. I had wished for it so badly, I had almost believed my little fantasy. That was, until I was faced with Kitty in a black mourning dress dragging me along to a pompous, stuck up, poor excuse for a funeral. Yea right. Not a single person there besides Kitty and I ever really gave a damn about him. They didn't even have an actual grave. It was more of a monument dedication than anything. That really hit me hard. I had at least thought that he would get that whole "rest in peace" coffin in the ground thing, but nope. They just stuck a statue in the ground where the glass palace used to be and were done with it. I felt my body begin to shake as the ache in my chest became to much. I came at least once a week, sometimes more. It never got any easier, standing in front of that statue with its cold dead eyes. Every time I visited the thing I would return to Kitty's apartment a shaking wreck, sometimes I didn't go back to the apartment at all. But, despite how hard it was to do, I came. It was my own way of saying goodbye, and honoring Nathaniel, who was ten million times the man John Mandrake would ever be.
"I'm sorry." I said quietly. Can you believe it, me, Bartimaeus, talking to a statue of a dead magician like it was an old friend. At least the street is empty. The cold wind and thick fog that had been shadowing the place all morning was enough to keep any human with a lick of sense inside, so there were no witnesses to my embarrassing display. "I'm sorry you had to die. Why didn't you listen to me? Damn it I told you to run!" I let tears spill down my cheeks. I missed him, I really did. The pain and the guilt I felt over his death weighed down on me more and more every day. I reached up and touched the statues hand. It was cold and metal, but for just a moment, I pretended it was him. "There is so much I never got to tell you. I know I'll regret that for as long as I live." The wind swirled around me, and I could almost here his voice, a feint echo, muttering 'damn demon!' I know its just in my head, but its a small comfort to here his voice again even still. It almost gives me the feeling that he's still here somehow. I know it sounds stupid, and sappy, and oh so cliche, but its a nice thought. I begin walking back to kitty's place, deciding that I had tormented myself enough for one day, but hesitant to leave all the same. As painful as it was to look at that statue, it was all I had left of him. The wind picked up again. 'Go home you damn demon' it seemed to whisper in my mind. I let a few more tears run across my face before wiping them away with a shaking hand.
"I always loved you you idiot." I sobbed pathetically. "And it kills me that you'll never know." I slipped my hand out of the cold metal fingers of the statue and hurried off. Tears still streamed down the sides of my face and my body still shook with quiet sobs.
When I got back to Kitty's place, she took one look at me and wrapped her arms around me. Before all this I would have shoved her off with a snarl and a reminder that I don't do hugs, but now... Things were different. I was different.
"I told you not to go." She sighed sadly.
"I know, but I have to." I mumbled in return. We were very used to this conversation by now.
"No you don't!" She said, her tone became snappish, "I miss him to, but crying about it won't bring him back!" I think she knew she hit a nerve the minuet the words left her mouth, because she pulled back to look me in the eyes. "I'm sorry, but I'm also right. You need to move on."
"I can't." I whisper, my gaze trained on the floor. "I want to, but I cant. He can't just disappear. Someone... someone has to re... remember." She gave me another quick squeeze before letting go. "Your free to do what you want for the night. I'm going to bed." Her tone was tiered, a sharp reminder she had suffered many sleepless nights remembering the boy who's death save her life. She missed him too, but she had moved on. I, however, was stuck in place.
"Kitty, I'm essentially always free to do what I want." I reminded with a bit of my old spark, before letting my face fall back to an expression of grief and pain. The second she left the room, I left, turning into a little sparrow and taking my leave via the still opened window. I flew and flew and flew, not really sure where I was headed, but anywhere that didn't remind me of him would do. I could here his voice in my head, teasing 'are you really that eager to be rid of me?'. Was I insane? Probably. Oh well, I couldn't care less anymore. I lived while he died, its only fair that life should come with a cost. Finally, I found myself sitting on a park bench.
"I miss you Nat." I murmured into the wind. "Had you lived, you probably would have had a happy life with Kitty, that would hurt, but as long as you were happy I would be ok. You would have been elected prime minister, I bet. Youngest one in history, that woulda been something."
The wind made no reply, and I suddenly felt very small in a very big, lonely world. What a human feeling. But, I suppose if I fell in love with a human, there must be something rather human about me after all.