Fictional Archaeologists Novels & Stories

“Sorry, the leader of Antifa in my area. He noticed that I was always by myself in the school cafeteria. He was nice at first, and he told me about Antifa and their so-called noble mission. The group he led was also nice. They were even supportive of my dream.” “Your dream?” Raja said. Well, here it goes, hoping they wouldn’t laugh. “To be an archeologist.” “Like my grandpa?” Katie said. “A what?” Li asked. “A study of ancient ruins and history like my grandpa.” She then shifted back to me. “Let me guess, you got hooked from Indiana Jones movies, right?”

Fiona said more. "YES."Julia Regina responded. Fiona has an apartment in city H,Julia Regina also knows, though Fiona never brought her here, but every once in a while Fiona home again,Julia Regina also used to. Today, there is an assessment and art enjoyment class. The lecturer is an archeologist. When he gives a lecture, he talks very ramblings, making the listeners drowsy. Because of that, he was given a nickname, called the broadcaster's hypnotist.

Not much headway had been made anyway in getting the language of the mythical serpents. These three courses were firmly related. Lorist pessimistically summarized the quintessence of these three courses into two words: grave burglary. The main distinction among this and genuine grave burglarizing was that it was legitimately supported by the different powers on the landmass and it was normal practice for individuals to assault and investigate such demolishes, plunder the ancient rarities inside and closeout them off to acquire abundance and popularity. Archeologists, be that as it may, were disappointed with such a peculiarity and considered such demonstrations disastrous and untrustworthy.

All my life, I've always wanted to be remarkable, to stand out, but right now, I want the opposite of that. I desperately wanted him to have forgotten all about me. And even if he hasn't, I wish he didn't remember me as the girl from last night. “I'm Imani Cole, a 19-year-old and an archeology major.” I heard that loud and deriding chuckle that could only belong to Valeria, but I ignored her. I couldn't pay attention to her because Prof. Stephan was now concentrating solely on me. Just as he did when I rode him, both in the bar and inside his car.

Finally, they spoke of the Archivist. “He is not like the others,” Kael said. “The Overseers are fanatics. The Archivist is… a scientist. A historian. He is driven by a cold, terrible logic. He doesn’t hate life. He sees it as a flaw. A chaotic, unpredictable variable that must be controlled or eliminated.” “He knows the old stories,” Liora added. “He knew what I was the moment I entered the Citadel. He let me in. He was studying me.”

Xyla recognized Brian Comb as a renowned archeologist. “This is my team of archeologists,” Brian said, then proceeded to introduce Xyla to each of his team members. She could recognize each of their names as experienced professionals in the field. Xyla was very grateful to the President for sending these experts over. After the introductions, Brian could no longer hide his excitement anymore. “Ms. Quest, can we go down and have a look now? The President told me that you’ve found a lot of rare treasures from ancient times, and I would like to have a look.”

I could almost picture his face growing red as it filled with fury. “Great.” I had what I needed from Alister and didn’t need to spend more time than I needed talking to him, so I hung up just as Eric put his phone back into his jacket pocket. “Graham was pissed. He said, and I quote, how dare that son of a bitch say I’m not qualified enough.” “Do we know any archaeologists that are supernatural?” “I do. I will send you her number.” Rosie shouted. I glanced at my watch, noticing it was almost time to pick Zara up.

Chapter 1: You Will Have My Seed "Are you sure we should be digging this site, Claire? Haven't you watched enough movies by now to not know what happens next?" Harold, Claire's best friend and contractor asked her in uncertainty. "We could be digging Frankenstein for all we know." Claire rolled her eyes with a scoff. At twenty-three, and freshly achieved the title of an archaeologist, she was eager to find national treasure or something that can prove how old the world is. Something news-worthy, something that can make her see her name on the front page or trending.

I won't forgive you just because you saved me, asshole; I argued inside my head. But he didn't seem to care that I was sitting next to him, all flared up from bottled rage. Reading the newspaper entertained him more. And I was fine with that. At least I avoided an awkward conversation. So I laid back, searching for some happy thoughts while listening to a furious piano concerto. Very much inspired by Indiana Jones and The Mummy movies with Brandon Frazier, I once dreamed of becoming a famous archaeologist, discovering buried treasures, lost cities, and ancient artifacts. Or perhaps a curator at a museum. Maybe even an antique dealer at an auction house.

“We’re discovering it. And if it’s on the border of my site and his proposed site… well, wouldn’t it be responsible to pause everything until we know what’s down there? For the sake of preservation?” It was devious. It was using Pryce’s own bureaucratic-weaponization playbook against him. It was also a gamble. We called Miranda. “You know anyone in archaeology who’s… creatively curious?” Arthur asked. She did. Dr. Aris Thorne, a professor of historical archaeology, was known for his hatred of developers who bulldozed history. He was also known for his dramatic pronouncements and love of local fame. The next day, Lanc “formally reported” the mysterious piping to the county, citing the discrep