The Bone Chapel

The Morning After

"I'm not sure I've ever heard of this religion." Violet's ethereal form took on a golden, shimmering hue in the early morning light. She sat—or at least gave the appearance of sitting—across from me at one of the picnic tables in the town's central park. Her daughter, Jessie, chose a more ghost-like manner to listen to my story. She hovered above the dewy grass, floating back and forth through the table so that only the top half of her head was visible.

"I'm not sure it's a religion, or maybe it is...I don't know, the whole experience was strange, yet..." I paused, rubbing my hands over my face as I recalled the enigmatic woman I had met the night before. "Despite how crazy it all sounded, I also just believe her, you know? Like a part of me feels like it makes sense even though that just throws my whole world view out of order."

"It's a lovely theory," said Violet with a motherly smile. "I hope it's fact. It's nice to know that we're all connected through magic. It might be what the world needs to hear."

"Come on, mom, you know this knowledge would just give people more reasons to hate each other." Jessie stopped her gliding pace and rose up just enough to resemble a decapitated head balancing on top of our table. She looked over at Violet with her brows drawn up into a peak and her lips pinched in disapproval. Despite the childish form Jessie chose to take as a ghost, she died when she was in her early 20s and had enough life experience to know that magic would upset the fragile peace many nations depended on.

"You might be surprised to learn this," said the mother with a humored twist to her lips, "but my daughter is the more cynical one out of the two of us."

"Nothing wrong with that," I replied with my own smirk.

"I appreciate the support," said Jessie in a grave tone, "but you have to understand that though some people's opinions in town are archaic, there is real reason to be concerned about the revelations that the Balance brings."

"Wait," said Violet, shifting in a seat that she couldn't actually sit in, "have you heard of this religion before, Jessie?"

"I spent a lot of time in the lower levels of the library and with that came a lot of reading. The Balance is not a new concept. In fact, the early talks of introducing other clans into Whisper Valley used the theory of magical stability dependent on varying expressions of magic as a reason to turn this town into what it is. But that is recent history. Progress forward, sure, but we can't forget the true origins of this town. It was built because Archmage Elizabeth Winchester was fleeing the Salem witch trials—a tragic event brought on by the divide formed by the instability in the Balance."

She paused, her translucent eyes watching me as I appreciated her words. She then glanced around the park, which was empty so early in the morning. Still, she dissipated her form, turning into mist before swirling around my head, causing a shiver to pass over me, despite the warmth of the August sun. As my teeth began to chatter, a voice whispered in my ear.

"There are those here who have ensured that any texts referring to the theory of Balance were removed from public circulation. Dangerous propaganda, so they say. Thankfully, the library is not just a mage run facility. Ghosts have long been the caretakers of the archive as our memories are far longer than a mortal mage's. We do not destroy any material that comes into our possession. Which means, we can't get any books to you personally, but we sure can hunt them down for ourselves."

The cold peeled away from me and my whole body shuddered as my temperature stabilized. Once I centered myself, I looked over to find Jessie now "sitting" beside her mom. Based on Violet's stoic expression, I assumed she heard her daughter's words as well.

"Give us a few days," the older woman said. "We'll see what we can find."

"Thank you."

With that we said our goodbyes and I watched Violet drift back to the library with Jessie's effervescent spirit bouncing along behind her.