This novella is two stories in one; or, to put it a little more precisely, two radically different perspectives on the same story. Usually that kind of thing deals with the perspectives of people on opposite sides of a conflict. This is different: the two perspectives are on the same side, and in fact companions for most of the story.
The first perspective is that of a princess, the extraneous fourth daughter of the ruling queen. She grew up on stories of her famous ancestor who teamed up with a powerful sorcerer (the last survivor of the titular Elder Race) when a terrible evil arose to threaten the land. Together they defeated the evil, and before the sorcerer returned to his lonely tower, he pledged to his companion to come to her aid, or the aid of her descendants, if he were needed again. Now rumors have reached the palace of a new evil. Her mother, the queen, isn't taking it seriously, so the princess sets out on her own to find the legendary sorcerer and enlist his aid to defeat evil once again.
The second perspective is that of an anthropologist. He’s been in and out of cryogenic suspension for centuries, part of a long-term mission to study the inhabitants of this colony of humans that have forgotten both their technology and their origins. He’s supposed to observe without interfering (good anthropological practice, after all) but he decided to get involved a while back when one of the locals found some old tech, figured out how to work it, and set himself up as a warlord.
All in all, this is probably the best exploration of Arthur C. Clarke’s famous idea that “sufficiently advanced technology is indistinguishable from magic” that I’ve ever read. What makes it so great is that the anthropologist keeps trying to tell the truth: no, it’s not magic, he just has more advanced knowledge than the colonists. And the princess says yes, obviously: magic is deeper knowledge, and as a sorcerer of course he has such at his command.
What makes it hilarious is that the anthropologist’s knowledge of the language is rather archaic. He can communicate just fine, but it’s all to the effect of “Verily, I shall join thee on thy noble quest” when what he’s trying to say is “Sure, I’ll come help out.”
This is a quick, fun, and very interesting read. Very much worth checking out, and further solidifies my opinion of Tchaikovsky as one of the most creative authors writing today.
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