A rediscovered library on an abandoned island sets off a political battle of wills. On one side are the powerful and entrenched Curators, who filter and preserve. On the other side are the upstart Historians, who want to find and share forgotten wisdom.
Ayef is a determined student with a magical talent for copying text. She was destined to become a Curator, but her real passion is solving history’s puzzles. She enlists with the Historians and volunteers for a secret mission to the ancient library.
As an apprentice, she gains the trust of her host, the Curator Dilmot. She gleans many historical puzzle pieces working at his side and behind his back. She also befriends a monkey and tries not to fall in love with the beautiful co-apprentice Ori.
Keeping her secrets to herself, Ayef learns as much as possible. But time runs out early, the Curator turns insidious, and the real battle of wills begins.
A rediscovered library on an abandoned island sets off a political battle of wills. On one side are the powerful and entrenched Curators, who filter and preserve. On the other side are the upstart Historians, who want to find and share forgotten wisdom.
Ayef is a determined student with a magical talent for copying text. She was destined to become a Curator, but her real passion is solving history’s puzzles. She enlists with the Historians and volunteers for a secret mission to the ancient library.
As an apprentice, she gains the trust of her host, the Curator Dilmot. She gleans many historical puzzle pieces working at his side and behind his back. She also befriends a monkey and tries not to fall in love with the beautiful co-apprentice Ori.
Keeping her secrets to herself, Ayef learns as much as possible. But time runs out early, the Curator turns insidious, and the real battle of wills begins.
The Intercity Council hearing had already started and Ayef was late. She struggled through the crowded streets. No one minded that she pushed her way by without apology. This was how it was on the streets that wove without reason through the wealth embodied in the spiralling towers that pierced the sky over Carras. The council hall, seat of the powerful worldwide Intercity Council of Elders, was a pale marble building, dwarfed by everything else except the surrounding cluster of administrative buildings. Ayef, a student close to graduation, was en route to discover if forces beyond her control would crush her life’s dream of becoming a Curator.
Ayef escaped the throng, hefted the skirt of her black-trimmed grey robe, and bounded up the stairs leading to the hall. Six columns supported the building’s portico, representing the original cities of the council. As she ran, her pale green hair bounced loose of a hasty ponytail. She clicked her tongue but did not stop to retrieve the lost hair tie. Her tan sandals slapped up the steps and carried her through the open double doors.
She slowed at the sight of two stone-faced Guardians standing beside the entrance of the main hall. They ignored her. The debate inside was public and she was allowed to be here. She passed between the Guardians.
The hall erupted into a riot of applause, with one side of the room standing to cheer the speaker who had just finished.
Ayef stopped, stunned at the crush of people, all mostly professionals, professors, and students. She found a spot against the back wall and stood there to observe the proceedings.
The white walls glowed with golden light, cast from a multitude of lamps circling the high ceiling’s supporting pillars. The floor, covered in gold carpet, descended in three wide steps, with a semi-circular arc of bench-seating at each level. The benches were dark wood, appointed in brass. All the benches were full, as was the gallery above.
At the centre of the floor were two raised podiums, both occupied. At one podium, stood the High Curator Ellyot, silver of hair, and adorned in the regalia of his office. Having finished his speech, he organized and tapped his papers. He offered a gracious smile to those who applauded, a signal that encouraged them to quiet down and retake their seats.
His opponent, the much younger Curator and professor, Dru Thallon, occupied the other podium, his raven hair hanging loose down his back. He had no papers as he stood still, waiting.
Both podiums faced the high white marble council bench that curved along the back wall.
Thirteen white-haired Elders sat at the council bench, in leather brass-studded, high-backed seats. Twelve were from the largest cities in the world, the thirteenth from a rotating city as approved by the other Elders. All thirteen Elders sat in various poses of waiting disinterest, with the High Elder seated in the centre.
Below the High Elder’s position, was a small table with a lone clerk, hand flowing over the page of a large book, in the process of recording the proceedings. After a moment, the clerk looked up from her work and gave a nod to Dru Thallon.
Thallon cleared his throat and smiled as he addressed the council. “Thank you for taking the time to hear us today. I would also like to acknowledge and thank the High Curator Ellyot for his words.” He nodded to his opponent.
Ellyot gave a begrudging dip of his chin.
Thallon looked back to the Elders. “I am here today in support of the proposed bill before you, which I co-wrote with my colleagues. The bill, if passed into law, would abolish the position of Curator, and replace it with the role of Historian.”
There came a loud cough from Ellyot’s supporters, followed by some muttered grumbling.
“The need for this change is great and timely,” continued Thallon. “For too long we have lived in darkness about our own past. The ignorance is beginning to show as city-states backslide into corruption and ruin. Our history contains all the secrets and lessons of statecraft. Without these lessons, we are lost. When we don’t know history, we don’t know anything. We become mere leaves in the wind, treeless, rootless. Without knowing our history, we do not know how to face the future.”
Several people seated in the benches near Thallon voiced agreement.
Thallon did not smile, but continued, “Regrettably, the esteemed High Curator just told you that history is a distillation of rumour, of fables about events that may have never happened written by people who were never there. I say otherwise! Just this week we have learned of the existence of archives preserved in an abandoned library considered to be at least ten thousand years old. In that library will be words written by people who were there, about events that did happen.”
One of the Elders leaned forward, head at an angle, gaze intent.
Thallon paused before continuing, casting a glance at his opponent. “The standard procedure for the Curators, who report only to a select sub-committee of this very council, is to curate those archives. It has been too long implied that the job of Curators is to preserve all archives for future generations, but that is not true. What will happen is that they will send a Curator to the library, who will have sole access to the archives for the purpose of deciding what is approved knowledge and what is not. What is approved will be copied and brought to Carras for preservation. What is not approved will be destroyed, erased forever.”
“That is a bunch of lies,” Ellyot muttered.
“These are no lies!” Thallon slapped his hand on the podium. “These are unforgivable crimes!” Thallon then drew breath and relaxed. “Enshrined in the pending bill before you is the requirement of all Historians to preserve all historical documents, no matter what they contain. Professional Historians will be vetted, thoroughly trained, and required to preserve, study, write, and publish about the records they study, in order to share what they learn. This will contribute to public knowledge. It will make the Vensa a better people, a wiser people, a people able to meet the challenges of the present and the future. For the sake of the world, you must make this bill into law.”
The other half of the room exploded into applause, as supporters stood and cheered Thallon’s speech. After a nod from Thallon, they stopped and sat down.
Thallon looked again to the Council. “To demonstrate how strongly I believe in this bill, I am tendering my resignation to the High Curator, effective immediately.”
There were gasps, murmurs and exchanged glances from around the hall.
“Thank you for your time and consideration.” Thallon lowered his head to the Elders.
Ellyot’s mouth hardened in displeasure.
A couple of the Elders conferred in whispers.
The one Elder who had seemed most interested during Thallon’s speech leaned forward again. “Curator, ahem, I mean Professor Dru Thallon, I am Elder Aphor, chair of the Curator sub-committee. In light of the library find and the pending bill, I am curious if it would help to allay some of your concerns if more than one Curator was sent to deal with copying the library’s contents?”
“Respectfully, Elder Aphor, how would that help?” Thallon asked. “Any Curators sent would be fully trained in filtering out unapproved knowledge.”
“I see,” Elder Aphor said and then grimaced a smile. “Perhaps you yourself would prefer to go?” His smile was too wide, almost sinister.
“That is most considerate, but I am needed here to shepherd this bill into law.” Thallon glanced at Ellyot. “If I may suggest, an apprentice or two would be better.”
Ellyot stiffened. “That’s preposterous. We can’t allow apprentices near archives of such value and importance.”
Thallon motioned to Ellyot as he addressed the Council. “The High Curator admits their value and importance, and yet would only allow professionals trained in the art of destroying history near it. This is exactly why bright, forward-thinking apprentices should be included. As future leaders and professionals, it is apprentices that have the most to gain or lose from your decision regarding this bill.”
Boisterous applause broke out among the back rows clogged with students.
After quiet reclaimed the room, the High Elder nodded, and then he turned to the other Elders. “Do we have an action proposal from the council?”
There was silence, then Elder Aphor spoke up. “I propose that we take this bill into further consideration. Our decision should be delayed pending the outcome of the library situation, with a four-month deadline. Two copyist apprentices will assist the assigned Curator. The High Curator and Professor Dru Thallon may select one apprentice each from among current or former qualified students who apply for the position. The High Curator will submit monthly reports detailing the ongoing work and a final report. Professor Dru Thallon may also submit a final report once his apprentice has returned. It is from these reports that we will make a more informed decision regarding the bill.”
There were nods from the other Elders, and the High Elder turned to Thallon and Ellyot. “So be it. Your four months start now.” He waved his hand, signalling the end of the hearing.
Ancient History comes in a small package but makes a memorable impression.
It's the story of Ayef, a girl with a valuable gift that allows her to duplicate text while reading it. She's recruited by the upstart Historians, who want to unearth and share all of the past's stories, instead of cherry-picking what people should know and destroying any mention of ideas that are deemed too dangerous, which is the established Curators' way. Ayef's mission is to join the exploration of an ancient archive discovered on an island and somehow bring back secret histories that Curator Dilmot, the person in charge, would otherwise burn. But Ayef finds love and many obstacles on the island, making her task overwhelming.
My favourite part of the book was its debate regarding how history should be treated and related. Through the Historians, it posits that every part of history, good or bad, is important to know and that everyone should have access to it. The Curators, on the other hand, knowing very well the horrors of the past and how easily a good or bad idea can take root, are adamant that there should be limits to what history is shared and that some events, names, or concepts are better off wiped from existence. Both points are nicely explored in the narrative through various effective characters.
Ayef is compelling as the protagonist and carries the story well. Her relationship with Ori is sweet and sad in how it impacts the mission. I do wish Curator Dilmot was developed a bit more, however, to make his progression smoother and more convincing. The ending and a few other elements just felt slightly rushed and not delved into enough.
That being said, Ancient History's simplicity is also an asset. Thanks to the narrative's easy-to-read yet thoroughly enjoyable writing style and plot, you can get through it quickly and come away with thought-provoking messages. This novella is great for fans of smooth fantasy stories with intellectual and LGBTQ+ themes at their heart.