Morning all. I hope you are doing well this morning. I’m a bit slow getting started, but the mental fog is slowly lifting. As always Wednesday morning always leaves me feeling as though my to do list has grown in the night. Its the same list that I actually started the week with it is just the realization that the week’s reached it’s midpoint that just seems to make it feel as though it has grown. So before I can stop and well on the feeling of being behind, I am going to get started with my day. Anyone joining me in the morning prompt? Good, then lets get started. Timer’s set, writing instruments at the ready? Excellent! Let’s go!
I feel I need more back story for this one. As though the quest for information should come well before they unearth the tomb. This feels like it is at least a few chapters in. Almost to the mid point actually. But maybe that’s just me. I’d need to back track if I were writing this one.
Wednesday, November 10th: There were several pieces of the arched mural that had been chiseled off.
There were several pieces of the arched mural that had been chiseled off. It was remarkable to see, even if it was frustrating. The entire underground complex had been perfect up to this point. The items inside the space were placed as though the owners just stepped out and the murals looked as though the paint and carvings were completed only the day before.
The stone edges were still sharp and not worn by time. And yet, he knew they were ancient. Concerned but such pristine conditions, he sent paint scrapings off for analysis. The organic matter dated perfectly to the time period. The furnishings too.
Everything was as it should be. The seal had simply never been broken. Dust lay thickly over the items on the ground but it was the dust that was in the air from the final workmen. Once they were done, the small set of rooms carved deep into the rock was sealed as tightly as any modern hydraulic chamber.
While there were items plenty in the space, decorating the rooms and providing much archaeological information. There was no gold. There were no gem stones. There never had been.
This was not a rich tomb for some Egyptian Pharaoh. This was not the resting place of a jade masked Meso-American King. This was something else entirely. Something different. He stood in the first chamber and marveled. He found this place following a strange set of clues. He found the ancient language written in some forgotten books and kept them as curiosities.
It was more luck than skill that he found inscriptions with the same language paired with enough of other known languages to begin translation work. Years were spent in translation work, but standing here, he knew it was all worth it. Here were the inscriptions that told the story of the people. It told the story of the faith.
And he could read it all. On the first pass through, he tried not to get distracted as words flickered into his brain as he passed them. He set others to recording things with video and photographic stills on the off chance something happened to the site.
The area was remarkably stable. There was no water to rise and cause issue. There were no earthquake faults. But it never hurt to be cautious. Despite his inborn caution, he left the others to make the first recordings as he pushed ahead, wanting to see it all with his own eyes before settling in to study it. It was then that he saw the arch way and the careful chisel marks that deliberately removed part of the story, part of the history he came here to find.