"Etched Bones", a mini story.
CONTENT WARNING: Contains mentions of human remains.
You don't have to expose yourself to things that hurt you. Stay safe. ♥
Of what was left of the skeleton consumed by time, this one had practically nothing to identify it. Some of the other remains found here had distinct features on them, allowing easy, at a glance conclusions. Some had readable names etched into them. Some even showed promising signs of recoverable DNA. Not this one though.
The uncovered arm practically crumbled at the touch of the brush, but on the left femur, which somehow, after all this time was still as intact as it could be for its age, the archeologist could see distinct etchings. Carefully brushing the bone dust and dirt away, it appeared as cracks at first but it quickly dawned on them that it was too complex and precise to be so. It was language, like the others, but this one, too long to simply be a name.
Intrigued, and audibly excited, they called for the rest of the team, especially, the linguistic expert on site. The latter made quick work of it, but still struggled to say what was written aloud, somehow taken aback. Eventually, after a short breath, the interpreter quietly spoke the written words: "She was the best of us."