The very second Evelyn's fingers touched the thin wooden stick, she knew it was the short one. Her stomach began making unusual noises as if it was running a marathon. Even though she tried hiding and controlling it, the intensity in her breath betrayed her. She wanted to shove it back, pretend she hadn't chosen yet, but five pairs of eyes were already fixed on her hand.
"Show us what you got, Evie," said Marco, as his eyes were wide open and fixed on Evelyn's right hand.
Evelyn slowly open her fingers, revealing the truncated matchstick resting in her palm. The other members of the archaeology team all breath out in relief.
"It looks like you will be the one to enter into the burial chamber first," Professor Martin's said, with his voice gentler than usual. "We'll be monitoring everything from out here, of course."
''Of course,'' Evelyn thought bitterly. The team had been excavating the previously undiscovered Etruscan tomb for weeks, carefully documenting and removing the outer chamber artifacts. Now they have reached the sealed inner chamber, and someone needed to be the first to enter the small space that had remained untouched for over 2,500 years. "This tomb is as old as Adam," she thought again bitterly.
"Don't worry, the structural engineers cleared it. The air quality sensors shows it's safe to breathe" Professor Martin added, on seeing Evelyn's hesitation.
But it wasn't collapse or ancient microbes that concerned Evelyn. It was something she couldn't even explain if she was asked.
"Let us get you geared up," said Mr Richard, the team's conservation specialist, as he reached for the protective gear.
Three hours later, and it was time for Evelyn to get into the burial chamber. She stood at the narrow entrance to the burial chamber, dressed in a scientific suit, with a headlamp illuminating the darkness beyond the small opening. A camera was mounted on her helmet, and she carried specialized tools for preliminary documentation.
"Communications check," came Professor Martin's voice through her earpiece.
"I hear you," Evelyn responded, trying to keep her voice steady.
"Remember, you are going in for just initial documentation. Don't touch anything yet unless I specifically instruct you to."
"Understood."
Evelyn ducked through the opening, careful not to disturb the ancient stonework. The beam from her headlamp cut through the darkness, revealing a space no larger than a modern bedroom. The air was surprisingly dry, and she hoped everything else would be good moving forward.
"I'm in," she whispered, though there was no need to keep her voice down, lol.
Her light swept across the chamber, revealing painted walls depicting scenes of the afterlife, a few ancient pots, objects, and a stony coffin which was placed in the center of the room. Despite her nervousness, Evelyn felt a familiar thrill of discovery.
"Are you getting this?" she asked, slowly turning to give the camera a better view.
*"Crystal clear," Professor Martin confirmed. "Remarkable preservation. Those wall paintings are extraordinary."
Evelyn continued her careful circuit of the room, documenting everything with both the camera and her handheld scanner. When she completed the initial sweep, she approached the stony coffin.
"I'm going to examine the burial container now," she said.
"Proceed carefully," Martin instructed.
The coffin was carved with the finest of stones, and the craftsmanship was brilliant, capturing fine details of the subject's clothing and jewelry. Evelyn's scanner would create a perfect 3D model, but there was something about seeing it with her two naked eyes that technology couldn't replicate.
As she walked round the stony coffin, something caught her eye, a small object that seemed out of place among the carefully arranged grave goods. She leaned closer.
"Professor, there's something unusual here," she said, focusing her light on what appeared to be a bundle of thin sticks, bound together with a faded ribbon. "It looks like a bundle of.... drawing sticks? Like the ones we just used, but ancient."
There was a pause before Martin responded. "Can you get a closer image?"
Evelyn carefully directed her headlamp and helmet camera toward the object. "It seems deliberately placed in the deceased's hand."
"Interesting," Martin mused. "Some funerary traditions involved games of chance to symbolize the journey to the afterlife. This could be related."
As Evelyn studied the bundle, a cool feeling ran down her spine which had nothing to do with the temperature in the chamber. One stick in the bundle was noticeably shorter than the others.
"The short straw," she whispered.
"What was that?" Martin asked.
Before Evelyn could respond, the light from her headlamp flickered once, twice, then stabilized.
"Just a momentary equipment issue," she said, not wanting to alarm the team with what was probably just her imagination. "Everything's fine."
But as she continued her documentation, Evelyn couldn't shake the feeling that she wasn't alone in the chamber. The ancient Etruscans had complex beliefs about death and the afterlife.
By the time Evelyn emerged from the chamber two hours later, her initial fear had transformed into scholarly fascination. She'd documented dozens of artifacts that would take the team months to properly analyze and conserve.
"Excellent work," Professor Martin said as Richard helped Evelyn remove her protective gear. "You've given us an outstanding preliminary survey."
"That bundle of sticks. I want to research more on it," Evelyn said, her academic curiosity now fully engaged. "I think it might represent a divination practice or funerary ritual we haven't encountered before."
"I've already requested comparative analyses from other Etruscan sites," Martin nodded. "It could be significant."
That evening, as the team reviewed the footage and discussed their findings over dinner at their field house, Marco raised his beer bottle in Evelyn's direction.
"To Evie," he said with a smile. "Who drew the short straw and lived to tell about it."
The others joined the toast with all smiles and laughs, but Evelyn's smile was thoughtful as she clinked her bottle against theirs.
Later, alone in her room, she reviewed her personal notes from the day's exploration. Something about that bundle of sticks had resonated with her in a way she couldn't quite explain. In Etruscan beliefs, death wasn't an end but a transition. Perhaps the game wasn't about misfortune but about selection for a purpose.
The next morning, Professor Martin approached Evelyn at breakfast with an excited expression.
"I heard back from a colleague at the University of Toronto," he said, as he slides a tablet across the table. "Look at this."
The screen showed similar bundles of sticks found in three other Etruscan tombs, all associated with the Etruscan priestess who were chosen to guided souls to the underworld.
"The short stick wasn't a punishment," Evelyn said softly, understanding blooming within her. "It was an honor. The chosen one."
Martin nodded. "The priestess who guided others through the transition. And somehow, across the centuries, you were the one who drew the short straw to discover her. You are indeed special" he added.
Evelyn thought back to her inexplicable reluctance the day before. Had it been fear, or something else. She wasn't superstitious, but she couldn't deny the strange sense of connection she felt to the woman in the tomb.
"I'd like to lead the full documentation team," she said decisively.
Martin studied her for a moment, then nodded. "I think that's appropriate. After all, you were chosen."
As Evelyn prepared to return to the tomb that day, she felt a curious sense of peace. Sometimes drawing the short straw meant taking on a difficult task. But sometimes, she realized, it meant being selected for something important, like becoming the bridge between what was lost and what could be found again.
When she stepped back into the burial chamber, this time accompanied by two conservation specialists, the ancient space no longer felt scary. Instead, it welcomed her like a story long waiting to be told, by the one chosen to tell it.