I can never say what brings me back to that same bench. People came and went, some walking dogs, some jogging, others just talking. They cast friendly glances my way, but all I offered in return were glares and crude mutterings. I looked around, taking in the entire scene of carefree people, vibrant wildlife, and the gorgeous landscaping. All the happy, thriving people and plants, free of strife and adversity. But I could make it so much better.
"Beautiful day, isn't it?" I didn't need to look to know it was Myron. He sat beside me, propping his cane with the skull ornament against the armrest of the bench. He was wearing his usual jeans and coat, not appearing to be bothered by the weather at all.
"The sun's too bright." I complained.
"Come now, even a person that talks to ghosts all day needs to see the beauty in life." Myron said.
"It's imperfect, incalculable, and prone to destruction. I could have made it better for everyone..."
"At too great a cost, I'm afraid. I came to ask a question about something that was left in my home." I groaned, turning away from him. She had been so close. If I just had a little more time, she could have been perfect. "Someone used my best infusing stone and created a construct. And there's only one person that could have done it, after seeing its abilities."
"Her abilities." I corrected. Perfect or not, I wasn't going to have my work shamed with impersonal pronouns. "And she was almost a success. I made her in a very specific way, so she'd wouldn't imprint on the first person she saw." I turned to him, saw his face harden. "So tell me, who is her new master?" Myron didn't answer for a long time, and he dodged the question when he did.
"You've had a little too many 'almost successes'. Everyone's scared of what you might do next. So I'm here to tell you that you're a wanted man." I laughed so hard it ended in coughing. I've been wanted for years.
"My creations won't let them get anywhere near me." I said, looking him in the eye. "Though they have their faults, they would never betray their creator."
"With the kind of effort they're putting in to finding you now, I wouldn't put so much trust in your constructs. Just as a lust for freedom is in human nature, it resides within them as well. Even your... creations are no exception." Myron got up, leaning on his cane. "Sooner or later, they'll leave you. They always do."
"You didn't." I said, holding Myron's glare. Power coursed over the runes on his hands, the very ones I spent countless hours creating and carving, infusing them with every fiber of my being. Myron wasn't my first creation, nor was he my last. He was unexceptional, pedestrian compared to some of the others, but he was the only one I'd given up. Yet, for some reason, he still gravitated toward me, helping whenever he could.
"Your practices fly in the face of any sane person's ethics and morals. I have brought people back to life when their soul clings to their place of death, but you drag souls back into our world, robbing them of their eternal rest, and bind them to earthen bodies. They are not alive, nor will they ever be, and if they knew the truth about their conception, they would resent you even more than they do now." With that, he turned and left. I watched him go, weaving between people and around trees until he was out of sight. When it came down to it, I wasn't really sure if who's side he was on, but that wouldn't matter for much longer. My last creation was nearly complete, and this one would be a success.
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