Ogham
Ébad is the letter that cut the word KOI into stone: here lies. It is the flat, functional part of a memorial, the clause that fixes a fact to a place, and it is the one supplementary letter anybody thought worth the trouble of carving. Today something of yours is already finished and what is missing is the marking. Put a date on it, say it where it can be heard, tell the person who still believes the matter is open. Scribes later read this letter as a salmon, and that is the prettier layer, but it earned its place by stating a thing plainly.