Chapter 1

Delphi, an amazing city in an amazing country. I'm on a scholarship for archeology and got the opportunity to travel to another country to intern at an archeological museum. That's where I am now. Walking to my temporary job at Delphi Archaeological Museum. My scholarship basically allowed me to work at a real archeological museum in a different country. It paid for my trip and a room at the Pitho hotel, I need to cover any food and other essentials.

My name is Vaudette Clark but people call me Vaude. There is a whole story behind my name that doesn't need to be told, something about my grandpa's grandpa having something with the name Vaudette. Anyway, I am 22 and I'll be finishing school once I get one more class in this fall. I miss my home but nothing beats Greece, old and ancient. I'm pretty sure the coffee shop I go to everyday is 5 times older than my parents' house back home. I eat breakfast there more than half of the week on my way to work. I've been cataloging the museum's inventory. Some might say it's a boring way to spend my time in Greece, but I think it's amazing, even just to touch what they have. I love ancient things.

Another interesting thing about me, I'm pagan, and a modern day witch. No, I don't have magical lights shooting from my fingers or anything. I deal with nature and rocks. That's what kind of got me into archeology, is rocks, ancient rocks! I don't have red hair, I actually have dark brown, curly hair, and my skin is not exactly white, but a shade darker. My Ma is actually from Spain and my dad is Mexican-American, so Spanish is my second language. My Ma is also a witch, she believes she helps karma when karma doesn't act fast enough, she puts hexes and jinxes on people, out if she feels really mean, she increases the luck for everyone surrounding the culprit. She can be mean that way, but I love her to the end of the earth.

With my red, athletic yoga pants, my Harry potter, herbology shirt, black shoes, halloween shocks, my rose quartz pendant, and my hair twisted in an extra grippy clip, I was ready for the day! That's about the overall look of my wardrobe on a daily basis; geeky/nerdy shirt, yoga pants, holiday socks, and a crystal of some kind. I am kind of all over the place and I always where my favorite.

Anyway, my job at the museum is really amazing, most would probably think it's boring, but it's a big part of where I want my life to go. Touching and discovering ancient artifacts. Learning history that isn't written in textbooks. I get goosebumps every time I think about it.

I don't have many friends back home and I haven't made any friends here, unless you consider my supervisor at the museum a friend. She doesn't talk to me other than when she instructs me about what I'll be doing in the back on that particular day. For the past few days I've been examining the designs of pots and vases from Dephi and logging my description. Then, I check my description with what the professionals said about it and see if it is similar enough to not be confusing, and if i describe any really well, they might use it in the museum displays. Which is a big deal to a learning archeologist.

So, I got my ham and cheese croissant with a white hot chocolate and walked to the museum. The weather here always seems to be either warm and sunny or warm and rainy. It hardly ever is below 80 degrees Fahrenheit, unless it's in the middle of the night. Luckily today it isn't going to rain, but that also means it'll be scorching in the sun and humid in the shade. I work in the back of the back, where there are big boxes everywhere and a table for me to work at. I put my laptop down on the table and picked a box. That's how I usually work; pick a box, log the item, put it back, and repeat. Over the past week, I got through about half. Tula, my supervisor checks in on me 3 times a day; in the morning before I start to make sure I show up for work, at lunch time, because she has to, and when it's time to leave. She only talks during the morning visit unless she feels the need to verbally tell me when it's time to leave. I have yet to figure out if it's her that is weird or me. Sometimes, I hear her say, "Americans" disapprovingly when she walks away after telling me something. I don't think she likes me, but it's just a guess; forever the optimist.

Anyway, logging and logging for hours until noon, like I said, today was pots and vases. I probably already logged 50 or so. I may have logged a few twice by accident. Then I ate my lunch, just a plain ham sandwich and an orange. I usually eat alone while checking my groups and family on social media.

After lunch I took some time to organize the order of pots I was going to catalog and stack them up around my table so I have a goal to finish by the end of the day. Plus, organizing it all helps my brain function and not die of repetitiveness and it gives my legs a little extra stretch. Then I sat back down and picked up my first item.

It was smaller than the ones I did in the morning. Those were around the height of my arm, maybe slightly shorter, but this one was only slightly longer than my hand. It had the traditional designs painted on it and its lid was corroded shut. I logged my observations into my computer, then I turned to grab the pot to put away and my elbow rocked it right off the table and I had one of those moments where everything seems to go in slow motion. It took forever to hit the floor but I was frozen in anticipation of the result.

Smash! There must have been ashes or a lot of dust in it and it splattered. I couldn't speak or move. I had never had something break on my watch. I treated everything with the utmost care. I shook with fear and my panic attack began as I paced back and forth.

What should I do? Should I go find Tula and tell her? Will she be furious? What if she fires me? My time with them isn't over for another month and a half. Will I be sent home? (panic attack continues)

I heard a groan come from the other side of my wall of boxes and crates. I froze again and went silent. Slowly, I tried to look over the boxes to see who or what it was, but I couldn't see anything. Thinking I was going crazy from shock, "was that a someone or am I going crazy now?"

"You must be going crazy if you think I am not really here," a smooth accent spoke. A tall, tanned skin, dark shaggy hair, muscular man stood up from behind the boxes, With his hand holding his forehead, in perhaps pain, "Now, who are you and what language are we speaking?"