Somewhen long ago, a tired old Plath in a wheelchair was sitting at a table with a number of translucent, gelatinous beings in a room dimly lit by candles.

Another group of Tol were all fussing over some device at the far end of the room.

“Ok!” one of them said nervously, “I guezz itz about as good as itz going to get.”

“Let do diz!” a tollop exclaimed.

“So what is this great mystery?” the Plath asked with curiosity.

In the long years she had been with the Tol, their progress from a fractured, early iron age and gunpowder, for lack of a better word, “civilization” to a thriving, truly global civilization had been a joy to behold. All of it, all of it… wasn’t due to her venomous manipulations. It was due to the single greatest being she had ever known, Ol’ Fatty, the first king of every Tol on the planet.

She sighed at the thought of him. She truly missed that fat fuk.

“Hit it!” one of the Tol in the group shouted, and a filament surrounded by a glass orb at the top of the box started to glow, first dimly and then with a growing brightness that filled the room with a light so strong that it seemed to be midday.

“Marvelous!” the old Plath exclaimed as she started to weakly wheel from the table. A Tol quickly rushed to her and pushed her over to the glowing machine.

“You’ve converted basic electric current directly to illumination with only what you have now?” she gasped. “How?”

“The electric makes shit get hot, right?” a Tol asked proudly. “An’ when shit gets hot enough, it glows.”

“And then it burns… Wait!” the old Plath exclaimed, “There’s no oxygen in there!”

“Ain’t nothing in there!” a Tollop exclaimed. “We scooted all the scoot out of the jug!”

“Electric resistance to heat to incandescence!” the Plath exclaimed in amazement. It was something that they quite simply never had to worry with. All of their knowledge and technology had been basically handed to them, built into their very being.

What her kind knew, the Tol were beginning to understand.

“I wish he could have seen this,” she sighed as a single tear ran down her face.

“You think he would have been pleased?” one of the Tol asked happily.

“It would have blown his fukkin mind!” the Plath laughed, “An’ then he would have tried to eat it!”

The room broke into laughter.

“Now,” she said as she leaned forward, “Give me the details!”

***

Back at the table, the room now proudly lit by the electric lamp, the Tol looked at the Heretic with expressions not as proud or joyous as one would think, considering their achievement.

“Are you sure this is the last meeting?” one of them asked sadly.

“I am afraid so,” she replied, “I mean, look at me.”

She tried to raise her arm.

“I have to be fed my beer with a spoon,” she sighed, “and I actually shit myself yesterday. I would endure getting fed and cleansed if I could be with you a few moments longer. I would. But now my vision is dim, and my mind is starting to fade.”

She sighed happily.

“I have spent the happiest years of my life with you, with all of you,” she smiled, “but those years, like all things, eventually had to end… and they have. I am so terribly… proud of what you have all achieved, and my only regret is that I will not be able to see what I know you will achieve. I will now take my leave of this world.”

She smiled.

“Maybe I will be able to find Fatty in the next,” she chuckled.

The group looked down, subdued.

“Now,” she said with a weak but authoritative voice, “you guys know where I put the list, right? The most important of all the books, the one that tells you what not to do?”

“Yes, Teach,” one of the Tol said with an indulgent sigh, “The answer hasn’t changed since the last time you asked. We all also know all the words by heart, even if we don’t understand them all.”

“Well, just make plenty of copies and focus on the ones that you do understand,” the Plath said sternly, “for example, combustion is a wonderful way to get quick and easy energy, but linger there no longer than you absolutely must! I’m serious about this!”

“What do you think all those fukkin windmills are out there for, decoration?” one of the Tol grumbled. “We can make electric from them now. We only burn stuff for smelting.”

“And for cooking and for lighting,” the Plath replied sternly. “Windmills are great now, but you will find that your energy needs are going to grow and grow fast. That energy will also be needed to get clean water, and you will want to do more about your shit than just pipe it off somewhere. That might work now, but it won’t for much longer.”

She smiled.

“You guyz are smart,” she said, “You’ll figure it out. I know you will. I’m just a worried old woman who is fussing over children far better than herself. Just make sure you keep an eye on The List of Fuk as you leave me behind and continue on.”

“We will,” a Tollop promised, “We won’t let Fatty… or you... down.”

“I know you won’t,” the Heretic said in satisfaction.

She looked at the room.

“Now, before I go,” she said, “You have one last chance to ask some questions. I hope you all came up with some good ones.”

***

A Tol gently carried the Heretic into a small chamber next to her bedroom, where he gently laid her down onto some cushions next to a wide, shallow basin of pure water.

“It’s been… an honor, Teacher,” he said as he took a small box from a shelf and brought it over to her.

“The honor is mine,” she said, “as it always has been.”

The Tol withdrew a vial from the box.

The Heretic smiled.

“You know,” she whispered, “you make that shit better than I do now.”

This book was originally published on Royal Road. Check it out there for the real experience.

“Thank you, Teacher,” he said as he opened it. “I just wish I could actually use it.”

“One of the things that makes me the happiest,” the Heretic replied with a tired little smile, “is that you can’t.”

“How much do you want?” the Tol asked as he pulled out a pipette.

“All of it.”

“Teacher?”

“I’m… I’m tired,” she smiled, “I’ve done everything I needed to do… or at least what I could.”

She reached for him, and he took her weak, withered hand into one of his pseudopods.

“It’s time.”

The Tol quietly nodded and closed the vial.

He arose and got a small golden bowl and another box.

He returned to his beloved teacher and mentor and settled down next to her.

He started measuring and pouring liquid after liquid into the golden bowl, the contents of which started to softly glow.

“I will stay here until the end,” he said quietly as he helped her into a seated position.

“Not this time, old friend,” she said as he brought the glowing mixture to her, “Once I consume this, I will be gone, and it’s going to be… different than before. You need to be well away before that happens. It’s not safe.”

“Yes, Teacher.”

He handed her the bowl.

“Bring dem up right,” she said, “I’m counting on you.”

“I will, Teach,” he replied with a sad smile as he departed.

The Tol sighed as he left The Teacher’s tower on the edge of campus.

She was right. All things end. He just wished it hadn’t been when he was dean. If only he and been his—

Suddenly, there was a blinding flash of light from above.

He turned just in time to see a multicolored bolt of energy streak up into the sky that seemed to tear the heavens apart…

...and then it was gone.

“I hope you find what you are looking for,” he whispered.

He wandered aimlessly through the campus, finally coming to her favorite bench where he had learned first at her feet, then at her side.

He sat and, unable to contain his emotions any longer, burst out into bellowing, loud, ugly tears, the sort of which only Tol can make.

***

Sister Ilnan, using a cane, walked through a spacious chamber surrounded by potted plants of all descriptions.

Technically she was the Light of Guidance, leader of… It didn’t really matter anymore because she was the only member of it.

She was the last of their line.

That also didn’t really matter. These days, their knowledge and skills were what mattered, not their weird mystic powers. While it was true that the Seers were natural masters of the art of life-weaving, many of the lesser techniques could easily be learned and used by those who would follow her.

That would be all that would be needed now. The hard work had already been completed. The world had been transformed into a true paradise. All she was now doing was fine-tuning and adding “extras”, like the flowers she stopped and admired.

She gently plucked a blossom and popped it into her mouth.

Delicious!

She laughed, causing a nearby attendant/lab worker to look up.

“Sister?”

“Have you tried these?” Sister Ilnan asked happily.

“They’re alright.” the other Plath replied with a shrug.

“Bah!” Ilnan groused, “You damn kids don’t know what’s good anymore. I bet you are one of those sugar fiends, aren’t you?”

The other Plath just smiled and continued their work as they were subjected to another rant by the Sister about how they had to change some perfectly good fruit because it wasn’t sweet enough anymore.

“Don’t roll your eyes at me!” the Sister laughed as she pointed her cane at the Plath jokingly. “All that darn sugar just tramples the flavor!”

” Yes, Sister,” the Plath said with an exaggerated deferential tone.

Chuckling, Ilnan started to, supporting herself with her cane, kneel down to examine a low tray of some sort of moss when she felt a tickle that was rapidly growing in intensity.

What the fuck? Ilnan wondered. While her words were now temperate, her thoughts were still the ones of a Seer, a notoriously intemperate caste among a notoriously intemperate species.

She stood as quickly as she could and rushed for the exit.

“Sister?” the Plath asked in alarm.

“Help,” she said as she reached for the Plath, now charging to her aid, “Help me down.”

“Sister?” the Plath asked in growing terror as her voice started to fade as a numbness and darkness that Ilnan hadn’t felt in a long time and never expected to feel again closed in around her.

Someone insanely strong had grabbed her from without and was not taking no for an answer.

” The Sister has collapsed! Help! Get help...”

***

Ilnan burst into surprised laughter as her mind’s eye cleared, and she saw a ghostly figure floating next to her in the space between worlds.

“Little Ilnan?” The Heretic asked in surprise.

“That’s The Light of Guidance to you, fiend!” Ilnan laughed.

“What,” The Heretic chuckled, “they run out of anyone qual… sorry.”

Ilnan laughed, her image sparkling brightly.

“Time claims all, Sister,” she replied.

She examined The Heretic’s image closely.

“Including you as well?”

The Heretic nodded serenely.

“Are there any that remain?”

“No, Sister,” The Heretic replied sadly, “all that followed me have long passed. The future of our caste lies with your order.”

“Then our time is at an end.”

“How can that be?” The Heretic asked in alarm.

“The castes are no more, Sister. It would only take one false prophet in the future to gather one of each caste to begin the dark days of ignorance anew.”

“Dark days of ignorance?” The Heretic asked dubiously.

“I know it sounds strange to you,” Ilnan said, “but what we have achieved here and the peace and happiness that we now have thanks to our new lives makes everything before seem just like that. I wish you could be here. I wish you could see what we have achieved. This world, this entire solar system, is our greatest achievement. We have created a true paradise for our kind, a real home for the first time ever. You may not believe this, but there is such simple joy to be had building something, shaping it, nurturing it… watching it grow...”

The Heretic sighed happily.

“I just might,” she replied. “I take it we had just a little to do with this ‘paradise’?”

“Oh yes!” Ilnan exclaimed, “It is our caste’s greatest work, a fitting monument to the Seers! As passions cooled, it was decided that if this was going to be done, it would be done properly, and we pledged ourselves to the task. The ideal system was selected, and we began our great work.”

Ilnan’s glow dimmed a little.

“I just wish the Great Seer and the Great Prophet could have seen the fulfillment of their vision. They were both taken from us far too soon and at such a dark time.”

“What happened?”

Ilnan looked at The Heretic in shock for a moment.

“Oh, that’s right,” she said, “you had left us.”

Ilnan fought back tears. Even now, years later, she could barely bring herself to think of those days.

“When we started the great work, we created wonder after wonder. We shaped not only this world but the entire solar system, even its star, into an expression of perfection that hasn’t been seen since the Progenitors themselves.”

“That’s hubris!” The Heretic gasped.

“And that’s my point,” Ilnan smiled sadly, “I chose my words carefully. We became overly… excited… by our achievements and overly intoxicated by the possibilities. What was going to be austere contrition became dreams of a paradise of peace, joy, and happiness for us and our children. We were going to make the future that we ‘deserved’ that we had ‘earned’ with our service to the Progenitors by using their gifts to create something that rivaled even them.”

“Stop!” The Heretic exclaimed. “Don’t even SAY that!”

“Sorry,” Ilnan smiled ruefully, “I say such things so that the sting of the thoughts is a constant reminder of our foolishness so that we never repeat what we did… and what I did...”

“What… What happened?”

“With one foolish act,” Ilnan sighed, “The Great Seer herself created something so horrible it almost destroyed us all.”

“Tell me.”

“One of the goals of our new grand vision,” Ilnan replied, “was the elimination of castes altogether. It would only take one ambitious Plath to gather one of each line to start the madness all over again. So, we attempted to both inhibit the caste-specific traits and break the barrier between each caste so that any division would disappear. We thought this would also create a new Plath race in its ‘original’ state.”

“Sounds reasonable enough… if that’s what you want to do,” The Heretic said, wrestling with disgust.

“And it has worked quite well,” Ilnan said, “the ‘New Plath’ are capable, healthy, happy beings who are much more versatile and adaptable than any of us old caste ones. I truly envy them. Any of them can do anything they wish. Granted, they can’t do any one thing better. However, any of them can do any task, even multiple ones. Besides, they no longer act in direct service to the Progenitors—“

The Heretic interrupted her with an angry hiss, glowing brightly.

“Blasphemy!!!” The Heretic shouted.

They both froze…

...and then broke into laughter.

“Imagine me being the one so offended,” The Heretic snorted, “You are absolutely correct. Those days are long past. Considering the path chosen, a less specialized, more generalist individual makes sense… and is quite the accomplishment! You do not lie when you say this is our greatest achievement. Even I feel pride at what was accomplished by the people I disavowed.”

“Our ‘greatest achievement’ almost destroyed us,” Ilnan sighed, “And it was the Great Seer herself that created that abomination.”

“The Great Seer?!?”

“As time passed,” Ilnan said, “The Great Seer and the Great Prophet worked closer and closer together, and as anger faded...”

“No. Fucking. Way.”

Ilnan nodded.

“Their love was...” Ilnan said, searching for words, “deep and abiding and grew more every day, and together they brought a new shared vision to life… and that’s when it all went so horribly wrong. The endeavor to remake our actual selves was underway, and unlocking the barrier between sperm and egg was the easiest task.”

“It would be,” The Heretic nodded, “It’s just a simple protein.”

“Exactly,” Ilnan replied, “The real problem was all of the traits. Ultimately we could not remove them at all, we could only prevent their expression, but I digress. The Great Seer was not a young Plath when you parted ways with her, and this was not the following day.”

Ilnan looked downward.

“She… she wanted to have a child with The Great Prophet...”

“Oh no!” The Heretic gasped,” She did not! Please! Ilnan! Tell me she did not do what I fear she did!”

Ilnan sighed and dimmed further.

“She became increasingly driven,” Ilnan sighed, “then pushy, and eventually, she became angry. Oh, she was a beacon of light to the Plath but to us sisters? Let’s just say many of us hoped you actually would attack.”

Ilnan smiled ruefully.

“One year became the next, and finally, pride and her own desires claimed the Great Seer,” Ilnan said, “and she unlocked one of her eggs and fertilized it with the Great Prophet’s seed.”

“And you let this happen?!?” The Heretic gasped, “Ilnan! ‘The Great Seer’ and ‘The Great Prophet’ weren’t just fun little names! They were scions! Those two contained the master copies, pure codes from the days of the progenitors themselves! This isn’t just blasphemy! There’s… There’s no word for what this is!”

Ilnan looked down in shame.

“That… thing… should have been destroyed!” The Heretic exclaimed. “Why wasn’t it?” Ilnan’s projection twisted uncomfortably as it was blasted by The Heretic’s shock and revulsion.

“You have to understand,” Ilnan replied, “Our lives, our civilization, had changed so drastically and so quickly. We were abandoning our technology, our culture… everything, and our only guide was The Great Prophet and, to a lesser extent, The Great Seer. We had our reservations and lots of them, but for the Plath as a whole, The Great Prophet’s word wasn’t just law. It was reality. He had replaced the Progenitors themselves. So, when he presented his daughter as Sheloran, the ‘First Daughter’ everyone thought it was not only acceptable but a cause for celebration.”

The Heretic floated there silently as the pieces started to fall into place.

“We were less celebratory,” Ilnan replied, “She stole years of labor before the supporting technology was ready. However, even in our ranks, there was some division. Some had pledged their loyalty, and their minds, to The Great Prophet, so his word was enough. Others saw the danger but also saw that this child strengthened The Great Seer’s position and further legitimized her place ‘by his side’ and thus ours. Others still thought that the trait mixing would prove not viable and the child would die and thus not a concern. Others still… well, you get the idea.”

“So in the end, nothing was done,” The Heretic said as the various threads she had long pondered started all converging at increasing velocity. “And what of the child?”

“She was… amazing,” Ilnan sighed. “She seemed to not only be a full combination of Seer and Warrior but somehow better than both. She was perfect. She was better than any seer and more dangerous than any warrior. She was… She was basically another species.”

“MmmHmm,” The Heretic said dubiously, “and if this was remotely a good idea, the progenitors would have already made them.”