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“Sun cream break!”
I lifted my head from where I’d been working, shaking off the slight headache that came with lovingly troweling away around a stack of clay floor tiles for the past few hours. I wiped the sweat from my forehead; the wide-brimmed straw hat I’d brought provided a bit of relief and protection from the sun, but not enough to forego sunscreen.
Joining the other archaeologists in the shade of the temporary shed that served as our field office, I reapplied my sunscreen and squinted out over the dig site. Columns of stacked tiles poked out of the ground like stunted, broken teeth; the remains of a Protodraconic bathhouse.
“Hey, do you want to borrow one of my knee cushions?” Gr’Ena asked as she rubbed sunscreen into her green skin. Even orcs had to be careful spending long hours in an open field on cloudless days.
“Nah, on digs back home I’d get laughed at for kneeling on a soft pad like that.” I said. “We humans have a reputation to maintain.”
“Suit yourself. You’ll be singing a different tune after we’ve been at this for more than a few weeks.” she shrugged, turning her attention to the same view over the site I was taking in. “This complex is huge.”
“Dragons were big back then.” I replied. “I’m more surprised we’re only finding floor supports; where are all the walls?”
“I expect they got robbed out by later civilizations. This area, they’d have used flint for the walls, and there’s lots of Later Rubinian churches around here made of flint. I don’t think we’ll find any intact walls at this site.” Gr’Ena said, taking a swig of water from her canteen.
By midday, the temperature had climbed dangerously high, and we decided to call it. The nice thing about these rural digs is that there’s always a friendly pub in whatever tiny town is closest, and always more than happy to see a bunch of exhausted, parched archaeologists come in for a break from the sun.
We spent the afternoon swapping stories over pints of the local stout, debating the merits of different trowels(Marshalltown is the best and you can’t change my mind), and discussing the dig schedule for the coming week. It was looking like rain, and that was going to make the site unworkable. We’d have to cover it with tarps and hope looters didn’t come hunting.
“Can I get your help with something in the meantime?” Gr’Ena asked.
“Of course, what’s up?” I asked, taking a pull from my pint.
“I have a contact in the city who’s a Protodraconic scholar of sorts, his name’s Emmik, and I want him to take a look at that mosaic tile we found the other day. I can’t get away from the site though, can you take it to him?”
“Yeah, sure, you want me to go tomorrow?”
“Yes, he’ll be expecting you. Ancient History department at the university.”
After getting directions to Emmik’s office from some helpful undergrads, I found myself in a cramped room lined with overstuffed bookshelves, sitting across a desk from a sand-colored desert dragon in a tan button-down and tortoiseshell glasses.
“Gr’Ena didn’t mention you’re a dragon.” I said, observing the seven-foot tall scaly figure before me, his clawed fingers laced through each other as he rested his elbows on the arms of his wingback chair.
“Didn’t she? I expect it must’ve slipped her mind.” Emmik replied, in a pleasant voice with the characteristic draconic rumble.
I thought that unlikely, given how few fullblooded dragons were left in the world, intermarriage with the other sapient races being so common.
“Now, you’ve brought something for me to look at?” he asked, smiling, his teeth looking very dangerous and oddly out-of-place in his jovial face.
“Yes, the mosaic. Not complete, I’m afraid.” I pulled out the small tile. It was a partial depiction of a great white dragon, made from shimmering opalescent dragonshell.
“Oh, now, this is a beauty.” he murmured, leaning close to the where I set the tile on the desk between us. He tilted his head to one side as he peered at the mosaic, the afternoon light casting chiaroscuro shadows over his scales. I’d had precious few opportunities to observe a modern dragon up close, and I couldn’t help studying him. “You found this at the bathhouse site?”
“Yes, sir.”
He chuckled. “Do I look that old that you’re calling me ‘sir’? Emmik is fine.”
“Ah, sorry, Emmik.” I said, feeling myself start to blush. “It’s the office setting, I’m having flashbacks to my days at uni.”
“And how long ago was that, hmm?” he asked, still examining the mosaic.
“I got my undergrad degree at 24, still working on my Master’s.” I said. “Not as young as some, there’s a woman on the dig who finished her undergrad when she was 16!”
“Mmm, that is young. Too young, if you ask me, but she sounds driven.” his red eyes flicked up to mine quickly, then back down to the mosaic. “Curious that you found this at a bathhouse. It’s a religious icon; the Protodragons weren’t known for displaying religious iconography in secular places like the bathhouse. Strict separation of church and worship from common social spaces, they had.”
Emmik leaned back in his chair, brow furrowed as he considered.
“I’d like to come out to the site, if I may.” he said at length.
“I’m sure Gr’Ena would be okay with that.” I said. “I can give her a call now…”
“No need, I’ll call her myself later. I expect the site will be closed during the rains next week?”
“Yeah, if we left it uncovered it’d just turn into a mudpit.” I replied. “Better to cover it and leave it.”
“That will give me some time to do a bit of research into your intriguing find. The mosaic work is a bit unusual for Protodraconic religious iconography, I’d like to refresh my memory on ancient dragonshell mosaic techniques.” he said. “Is it alright if I hang onto this piece for a few days?”
“Yeah, Gr’Ena said take all the time with it you need. I guess she saw something different about it, too.” I nodded.
“Wonderful. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have a class. Are you taking the train back right away?” Emmik asked.
“I’m catching the 9:30 this evening; not a lot of trains stopping in the middle of nowhere.”
“Care to join me for a drink and a bite before you go, then? I’d like to pick your brain about the dig site, if you’re amenable.”
“Oh, uh, sure,” I said, with a shrug, “I’d be happy to discuss whatever you’d like.”
“Excellent. My last class ends at 5:30, I’ll meet you here.”
I followed Emmik to a small neighborhood pub that seemed popular with the students. Several greeted him as we found a table, and he chatted with them in turn. Seemed like he was a popular professor.
“So tell me more about this dig site,” Emmik began, “are there any other buildings that have been found nearby?”
“Previous teams excavated a villa on the hill overlooking the bathhouse, and there’s the remains of a road nearby, but that’s it.” I replied.”
“Surprising that a bathhouse of that size would be in such a remote area…” he said, a small smile gracing his scaly face.
“…You have a theory, don’t you?” I grinned back at him.
“I might, but I think I’ll keep it to myself until I see the site in person.” Emmik smirked. “How did you come to study under Gr’Ena?”
“My department head in university is an old classmate of hers, and they’ve kept in touch. She recommends students to Gr’Ena from time to time.”
“You must be very good, then.” Emmik winked, sipping his beer.
I blushed; was he…flirting?
We chatted more about his work, the Protodraconic age in general, and the various theories gaining traction as of late on why modern dragons were so small compared to their ancient counterparts. A few of his students stopped by the table to talk, and he was always happy to oblige them.
“Your students love you.” I observed.
“I’m one of the younger professors and I’m not afraid to dispense with politics and tell them what I actually think, students respond to that.” he remarked, shrugging one shoulder.
“That young woman that just said ‘hi’ has been eyeballing you from the bar for the last five minutes; looks like your candor isn’t all she’s responding to.”
“Are you sure she’s not looking at you?” Emmik asked, raising a brow ridge. “Handsome young man like yourself, half my students would be falling all over themselves for you.”
I blushed again; he’s definitely flirting. I like it, more than I ought to, really.
“Yeah…well, she’s barking up the wrong tree, then.” I laugh, rubbing the back of my neck nervously.
Emmik leaned back in his seat. “Ah, girlfriend back home?”
“Boyfriend, and not anymore.”
“Oh, I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be, it was an amicable breakup. He, uh, didn’t want to wait for me.” I explained. “Graduate work in archaeology takes so much longer than other disciplines, what with all the field work. He wanted to start his life. Heard he got a job with a pretty good accounting firm.”
“This is why you should always date within your field.” Emmik noted. “Archaeologists, historians, sapioanthropologists; we take the long view of things. We’re patient.”
“Hmm, maybe I should date a historian then?” I joked, feeling brave.
“Maybe you should.” he smiled back at me.