The Bone Chapel

Duality

"The, uh, bone chapel, huh?" Despite the humid air surrounding us, my throat went dry and my words cracked. I tried to swallow, but not a drop of moisture could be found to cleanse the sudden ache that resonated from my empty lungs.

I didn't imagine it, did I? My eyes darting between Genevieve and the sizzling sidewalk beneath our feet. The bone chapel is a real place. I couldn't have conjured that name up on my own. So who called to me that day?

"Yes, you may not have heard of it by that name, but I imagine you have heard of it."

I glanced up at the mage, watching her from the tops of my eyes, only to find her looking over at me with similar scrutiny.

"Is it related to Antonov's slaughterhouse?" asked Irene, her brow furrowed with concentration. "Like maybe where they discard all the bones from the animals?"

"Actually, those will often be ground up for use in potions and fertilizer," answered Genevieve with a nonchalance that cleared the investigative glint that had previously been in her eyes. Instead she looked over at Irene with soft amusement touching her lips. "We all work hard to have as little waste as possible around here, particularly given we don't want to have to enlist human services for waste removal."

Irene hummed to herself and tapped her chin in concentration.

I knew this could go on forever and with the way my heart pounded in my chest, I knew I needed an answer sooner rather than later. So I took a deep breath and edged us forward.

"Um, is it somewhere in the woods?"

"Good guess," replied Genevieve in a flat knowing tone. She looked back at me with a level gaze, her expression shifting between night and day depending on whether she faced myself or my friend. "It's deep in the woods, just short of the border."

"That's surprising," said Irene, who twisted around in an effort to catch a glimpse of the forest in question, though she wouldn't be able to manage it given we stood in the heart of Whisper Valley with buildings on all sides of us. "I thought the clan leaders wouldn't want to have anything too close to the limits. I thought the whole point of the woods was to create a buffer between us and the human world."

"The bone chapel is a special circumstance. Something the town doesn't want a reminder of, but also something that humans can't ever find."

"It's too hot for riddles," groaned Irene as she wiped her forehead with the back of her hand. "You're killing me here, Gen." She said it with a wide smile, but the sweat dripping down her cheeks spoke of her discomfort.

Genevieve's lips pinched and her head bowed before sending a few more wary gazes around the bustling market. With a sigh, she whispered her answer.

"The massacre a century ago decimated the town. They had to burn all the bodies to ensure the zombie virus was eliminated. That in itself was enough to exhaust the survivors. Providing a proper burial seemed near impossible at the time. So they moved the bones to the woods with intent to reclaim them once their strength had returned. However, by the time various clans felt able to retrieve their dead, they discovered that an aura of magic had encapsulated the graveyard."

"Woah," muttered Irene. "Are you saying this chapel is like a haunted burial mound or something?"

"A lot of powerful creatures died in violence; their spirits never given rest. We can only theorize what exactly that space has become, but the clan leaders agreed to let it remain. For all but the mages, time works differently. For them, it's as if this happened yesterday and that dealing with this is a task for 'tomorrow,' which could be decades down the road for all time means to them."