My critique of the story Fwl or Fool? by T. J. Thomas is that I think it's a very interesting and thought-provoking one. The author explores the idea of each of us having our own personal god, or minder, who watches over us as we work, rest, and play. The idea of each of us having our own personal god is a fascinating one, and it's something that I've never really considered before. I think it's a very clever way to explore the nature of free will and determinism.

I also like the way the author uses the concept of chatbots to explore the idea of gods and the author uses this technology to explore the idea of gods in a new and interesting way. Chatbots are essentially computer programs that are designed to simulate human conversation. They're not sentient, but they can be very convincing. This makes them a perfect metaphor for gods, who are also not sentient but can be very convincing.

I think the story raises a lot of interesting questions about the nature of reality and our place in it. Are we really in control of our own lives, or are we simply puppets being controlled by gods or chatbots? Is there really such a thing as free will, or is everything predetermined?

The author does not provide any easy answers to these questions, but forces the reader to think about them in a new way. This is one of the strengths of the story, and it is something that I appreciated. Fwl or Fool? has definitely made me think about them in a new way.

I also like the way the author uses humour to make the story more accessible. The idea of chatbots dreaming of Philip K. Dick's electric sheep is a funny one, and it helps to lighten the mood of the story.

Overall, I thought Fwl or Fool? was a well-crafted and thought-provoking story. I enjoyed reading it, and I think it is something that others would enjoy as well.

Sample Chapter

Chapter One

CARWEN

Fwl approached Carwen Castle.

Truly magical.

Every time he visited Carwen, he was struck by its grandeur and magnificence. The castle perched on huge, billowing clouds, overlooking the lush green land below. The tall, imposing walls of smooth white stone glowed in the morning light.

Fwl entered the castle through a massive arched doorway and found himself in the bustling foyer. The air was filled with chatter and laughter. Gods of all kinds milled about, coming and going from various rooms. The corridors of the castle seemed to stretch on forever.

For the hundredth time that day, he looked at the card he was clutching.

Fwl, a god of Melyn,
You are required to attend a meeting at Carwen.
Room 101 at 11 a.m.

Fwl smiled at a passer-by and hesitantly approached the information desk. The young lady sitting behind it smiled as he approached.

'Good morning,' she said.

'Good morning, I have a meeting in Room 101, at 11 o'clock.'

She gestured to the right. 'Please take a seat.' Fwl walked to where she had indicated and sat on the edge of a chair. A remarkable place, he mused. It was the official meeting place of all the gods of Hiraeth, and Fwl loved every inch of it.

Fwl took a seat next to a young man. The young man was sitting in the chair with his back straight, his feet planted firmly on the ground. His hands were clasped tightly in his lap.

'Hello, my name is Fwl.' He said holding out his hand. 'Lovely to meet you.'

'Oh hello.' He said taking Fwl's hand. 'My name is Eric.' He leaned in close and said. 'It's my first day.'

'How wonderful!' Fwl said. 'You are going to love it here.'

'I'm not sure what all of this is about actually. I was just told to come here.' Eric said.

'I can explain some of it if you'd like?'

'Yes, please. If you don't mind.'

'The people of Hiraeth are each designated a god. That would be us.' He nudged Eric and smiled. 'Not that the people know this; they are not religious in any way, shape or form. They are blissfully unaware of the system of gods. Imagine a hierarchy.' Fwl said holding up his arms, making a shape of a pyramid. 'At the bottom would be the gods of Gwyn. They are used as, let's say, watchers, sent by other gods to watch the people and gather information. They are like spies, so to speak.' He leaned into Eric and whispered. 'Being a god of Gwyn is quite embarrassing. It's a well-known fact among the gods that if you're in the Gwyns, you've either made a gigantic mistake as a god or are generally rubbish at your job. All the other gods avoid making eye contact with the Gwyns; they just pretend they're not there, so as not to jinx their own place in the hierarchy.'

Fwl slapped his hands on his lap. 'Let's see, ah yes, a step up from the Gwyns are the gods of Melyn. If you meet a god of Melyn give them all the help they need because they are just one more mistake from being demoted to a god of Gwyn... and they'll be losing sleep over it. The next level up from the gods of Melyn are the gods of Glas. Then the gods of Du, who are the elite. All other gods praise them and strive to be like them. They are perfect in everything they do.'

Fwl glanced at Eric unsure if he was following. He continued. 'At the very top of the pyramid are the gods of Popeth. They are the decision-makers, the managers if you will. The gods of Popeth are the ones that assign each god to one or more people from Hiraeth. There are many gods - hundreds - each with their own ward or wards to inspire and guide. Did that help?' Fwl asked.

Eric frowned, 'Um I think so. That's a lot to take in.'

'You'll get used to it. Don't you worry.' He patted Eric's leg.

As far as Fwl was concerned, this was the best job in the world.

'Fwl?' the woman behind the desk called.

'Yes!' He jumped up and rushed to the desk.

'You'll be having the meeting on the 5th floor.'

'Thank you very much.'

He turned to Eric. 'It was lovely meeting you.'

Fwl closed his eyes for a second, then he appeared on the 5th floor. He'd never been that high up in Carwen before. The corridors on this floor were lined with vibrantly coloured tapestries. He walked down the corridors and came across the first room. '97'. Room 101 should be a little further down. As he walked, he caught a glimpse of various rooms, each one as breath-taking as the next. Some were full of gold and priceless artefacts, others were filled with books as far as the eye could see.

'How wonderful,' he said out loud.

'Excuse me, kind sir,' Fwl asked a passer-by. 'Could you tell me where Room 101 is?'

The man pointed. 'Three doors down.' As Fwl walked away, the man added, 'Good luck.'

Fwl stopped in his tracks and stared at the retreating figure.

'Oh, um, thank you.' His stomach fluttered. Good luck? Why would he need good luck?

He walked down the corridor and came across a guard standing outside Room 101. The guard stood with his shoulders back and chest out. His uniform was neatly pressed. His face looked stern as if he was constantly scanning his surroundings for potential threats.

'You can't come in here,' the guard barked.

'But,' Fwl stammered, 'I have an appointment.'

The guard puffed out his chest. 'You can't come in.'

'But I have a card.' Fwl held up his appointment card.

'A card?'

'Yes, I have a meeting at 11, see?' He jabbed at the card.

The guard snatched it from Fwl and peered at it.

'Why didn't you say so?'

'I did.'

'Right, right,' said the security guard dismissively. 'I'll go and let him know you're here.' He turned and walked down the corridor, then stopped and looked back over his shoulder. 'Your name is 'fool'?'

'Yes, but it's spelt F-W-L.' he said, 'Let who know I'm here?'

'Wait here,' barked the guard.

Every time someone learnt his name, they all had the same confused look and the same questions. 'Your name is 'fool'?' or 'Who the hell named you 'fool'?' Little did they know his name had come first. Fwl had always loved his name. It was a strong name for a god. People would respect it. But then Sebastian ruined it with his little joke.

Sebastian is a god of Glas. He had been guiding one of his wards, Jeff, one day. Jeff and his son, David, had an accident in a horse and cart, when one of the wheels had bounced off. While David tried to put the wheel back on, he snapped the prongs and broke it.

'Look at what you've done!' screamed Jeff.

'You're an absolute... um, an absolute...' he stuttered.

Sebastian leaned in and whispered in Jeff's ear, 'An absolute Fwl.'

'You're an absolute fool!' screamed Jeff.

David looked shocked and slightly confused. 'What's a fool? What does that even mean?'

'It means you're an idiot,' he said and clipped his son's head with his hand. The term 'fool' was born, and now everyone was using it as some sort of insult.

Sebastian spent weeks telling that story over and over to every god. Even now, when he sees Fwl, he recounts it and holds his belly in laughter.

Fwl brushed down his yellow suit while he waited; he always liked to look smart. All the gods wore suits, and each level of the pyramid had its own colour. The gods of Gwyn had white suits. Those of Melyn had yellow, Glas blue, and the gods of Du wore black. Fwl didn't know what colour the gods of Popeth wore - he'd never met any of them - but he suspected it would be a magnificent red. He often wondered why all the levels had colours, and had asked some gods why, but even they couldn't answer.

At that moment, Fwl was a god of Melyn. He was once a god of Glas. Unfortunately, he had made a mistake some years earlier and was demoted a level, but he was lucky not to be a Gwyn. He shuddered at the thought. He hadn't made a mistake since; he'd kept his head down and got on with his work, as he'd learnt in training.

He combed his fingers through his black wavy hair, then saw a full-length mirror down the corridor. He quickly ran to it and adjusted his tie.

'I told you to wait over there!' the guard's voice rang through the corridor.

Fwl jumped and rushed back to his original spot.

'Sorry, I just wanted to make sure everything was in place.' He patted down his hair, thinking it might have moved when he ran.

The security guard looked at him with an odd expression, then opened a door and said, 'Wait in here.'

'Right, okay, thank you.' Fwl walked through the doorway then looked back. 'You don't happen to know why I'm here?'

'How would I know?' The security guard slammed the door.

Fwl looked around the room. It was large and dark. Black tapestries covering the white stone walls. The only place on the wall that didn't have a tapestry was the small window that let in weak, grey light.

In the centre of the room was an impressive table handcrafted from thick oak. Fwl approached it for a closer inspection. The legs had been carved into thousands of people reaching up their arms. He took a step back and saw the people appeared to be holding up the tabletop.

'Amazing,' he said out loud.

He turned to face the enormous fireplace that looked like it hadn't been used for a long time. Above it hung a tapestry bearing the image of a powerful god.

It was Owain! This was Owain's office! Fwl's hands began to sweat. Why would Owain want to see him?

His brain started to work overtime and his thoughts overlapped. He squeezed his eyes shut to try and organise the chaos in his overthinking mind.

Fwl had only met Owain once. When he was demoted to Melyn status, if it wasn't for the god of Du, he was sure he would have been further demoted to the Gwyns.

What did I do to be summoned here? I've been in Oldport for the past two days, but I didn't do anything!

He had stood in the corner of that tavern and just listened, most certainly not interacting with anyone. He had followed his training. He wasn't seen by anyone. He definitely didn't leave anyth—

He gasped and slapped his hand over his mouth, then frantically patted himself down.

I left it there! Panic started to take hold.

His hand stopped at the pocket on his left leg. Thank goodness, he said to himself, as he pulled out a piece of paper with his instructions on it.

He let out a loud sigh of relief.

Thrusting the paper back into his pocket, he told himself he definitely hadn't done anything wrong. He was not reassured by his own thoughts.

He looked around again. The room was meant to intimidate him, and it was working.

Fwl heard voices outside the office.

'Is he in there?' said one voice.

'Yes, sir!' shouted the guard.

The door flung open and in swooped Owain in his black suit. He looked so powerful and magical. His presence commanded attention. His walk alone showed confidence and strength. His hair was black and unmoving, sitting perfectly. Owain's piercing eyes shot at Fwl. That look made Fwl's heart beat faster.

Owain walked past Fwl and sat at the table. The guard whipped the door shut, sending a wave of panic through Fwl's chest.

'Please sit, Fwl,' Owain said, gesturing with his hand to the seat opposite him.

Fwl rushed to the table and eagerly sat down. He faced Owain with a large smile.

'Thank you for coming.'

'I didn't know the card was from you, Owain,' said Fwl. 'I haven't seen you since, well...'

Owain raised his hand. 'Yes, it's been a while. He lowered his hand. 'That's why I've asked you to come today.' Owain's tone was serious as he took a deep breath. 'She's causing problems.'

Fwl's face dropped and he blushed at the unexpected words. Mavis. His greatest mistake. He loved her, of course, like the other gods love their wards, but she'd been challenging for years.

This meeting was not going to end well.

'Um, well, she's always tried to cause problems,' he said, waving his hand dismissively. 'I wouldn't worry; no one believes her. They say she's crazy.'

Owain stared at Fwl for several seconds. Fwl shifted in his seat.

The god of Du finally broke the silence. 'She's made a deal with the Dewin.'

Fwl shot up from his chair. 'She can't have!' he shouted. 'The Dewin are evil. They use their magic for dark, wicked reasons; sometimes just for fun. How does she know about them?'

'Keep your voice down, Fwl,' Owain said calmly. 'Sit down.'

Fwl sank into his seat.

'I was told yesterday about the situation, by a Popeth,' Owain said.

Fwl shot to his feet again. 'A Popeth!'

A Popeth knows? A Popeth spoke to Owain about it! I'm going to be exiled or killed. Or worse I'm going to be demoted into a Gwyn!

'Fwl!'

'Sorry,' whispered Fwl and eased back into the chair.

A warmth crept through him and he started to sweat. He pulled at his collar and glanced at the fireplace to see if it had magically come to life without him noticing. Nope, still cold.

'Apparently, they approached her; she didn't go looking for them. They have a wicked sense of humour. They've always known about us, but using Mavis to make it public may compromise our system.' Owain took a deep breath. 'You need to fix it. Now the Dewin are involved, it's serious. You need to convince her to stop telling people about us.'

'I don't know how to,' Fwl said, panic rising to his throat. Leaning forward, he whispered, 'Honestly, if I knew how to fix it, I would have done it sixty-two years ago.'

'Fwl.' Owain rested his elbows on the table and clasped his hands together. 'You must go to her and convince her to stop.'

'I have spoken to her about it, Owain,' Fwl urged. 'She won't listen. She calls me the devil's messenger and tries to curse me.'

'She doesn't have the ability to curse you, Fwl.'

'That doesn't stop her from trying,' said Fwl, waving his hand. 'Every time she tries, she fails and ends up throwing things at me.'

'And those things go through you?'

'Well, yes, but it still hurts. Maybe not physically, but, you know.' He paused. 'It hurts my feelings. She says things to me. Hurtful things.' Fwl turned his head slightly so Owain wouldn't see his emotion.

'What do you mean?'

'She calls me names.'

Fwl felt that Owain wasn't taking this as seriously as he should. He leaned forward again and whispered, 'She has become a mean old lady!'

'Have you been doing your job? Guiding her? Inspiring her?'

'I try, but she doesn't listen. It's impossible to guide her when she doesn't pay any attention to me.'

Owain shook his head slightly. Fwl wasn't sure if it was because of the name-calling or because he didn't care.

'Fwl, you are being tasked with stopping her.' Owain opened a drawer under the table and extracted a piece of paper. 'Here are your instructions,' he said, pushing the paper towards Fwl.

Fwl stared at the sheet on the table between them. Should he pick it up or refuse the task? He didn't want to know what the instructions were. If he failed to convince Mavis, what would they instruct him to do? He knew she wouldn't listen.

'Couldn't you or another Du take up the task?' he said suggestively. 'She might listen to you.'

'How?' Owain said. 'She can't see us or hear us, only you!'

Fwl placed his hands in his lap and looked at them.

Owain sighed. 'I'm sorry, Fwl, but this has been a stressful time for me,' he said softly. 'The Popeth are angry that it has come to this. They're angry I got involved all those years ago, and they want her stopped. Please, take the task.'

Fwl looked up from his hands and took a deep breath. 'Do you or the Popeth have any suggestions on how to stop her?'

Owain pointed at the paper on the table. 'Your instructions are there. Please read them carefully.'

Both gods stared at each other for a second, then Fwl reached forward.

He held the paper for a moment, staring ahead, then read the instructions. 'Oh, Owain, please, I can't do this!'

'I'm sorry, Fwl, you have no choice. The Popeth believe that the Dewin will act in fourteen days.'

Owain stood and walked to the window. Looking out, he said, 'It will take a lot of convincing for her to change her mind.' He took a deep breath. 'They are allowing you thirteen days.' He turned back Fwl. 'If you fail, you must carry out your instructions.' He pointed at the paper in Fwl's trembling hand.

'There's something else,' Owain added. His expression became soft, almost pitiful. 'The Popeth want you to spend the thirteen days with her - every single minute. Even when she sleeps, you will not leave her. You will not be allowed to return to Carwen until the job is done. Do you understand?'

'Yes.'

'Can you sense where she is now?'

Fwl closed his eyes. 'She's in the north of Hiraeth, in Nabeth.'

'Go to her straight away and don't leave her side. It's very important that you carry this through.'

Fwl's stomach tumbled at the prospect of his quest. 'May I ask...' he started and cleared his throat. 'What was the price she paid?

'Her soul,' replied Owain.

'What a fool I am,' said Fwl miserably.

He turned to look at Owain, hoping he would disagree, but he just silently stared back at him.

Fwl closed his eyes and appeared in Nabeth. He stood at the end of the road, watching Mavis for a while.

'It's all a game!' she shouted.

She had a round figure with chubby cheeks. Each time Fwl saw her, she was wearing similar clothes – brown, beige, sometimes grey, and almost always threadbare.

Poor Mavis, she's like this because of me.

She'd had all those years and done nothing with them. She'd never had a job or even much of an education. She'd never married or had children. Never had any friends. And she was always angry, well, when Fwl was around.

'It's all just a game!'

Fwl stepped closer and saw that she had a sheet wrapped around her shoulders and knotted around her neck... like a makeshift cape. Written on the back were the words, It's all a game.

Fwl sighed.

He had tried to talk to her so many times; to try and convince her to live her life and enjoy the little time she had on Earth, but she would never listen to him.

Fwl crossed the road and walked to where Mavis stood at the corner of Market Street.

'It's all a game,' she shouted again.

Passers-by were avoiding eye contact and walking around her as if an invisible shield surrounded her and pushed them away. The closer she tried to get to them, the further they were pushed.

'I know the truth!' she screamed. 'I've seen it with my own eyes!'

The people of Nabeth knew she was a crazy old woman; that's what they called her, anyway.

'The crazy old lady is out again,' they would say.

'Hello, Mavis.'

Mavis snapped around so fast, Fwl swore she was facing that direction the whole time. She raised her hand and stretched out a chubby finger.

'There he is!' She pointed and screamed towards him. 'There's my proof!'

'Mavis, please,' said Fwl, raising both hands to try and calm her. 'Shhh,' he said in a light tone. 'Please, stop screaming. You know they can't see me.'

Mavis frantically looked around for witnesses. 'There he is!' she screamed, turning back at Fwl. 'Look!' Her outstretched arm was shaking at him. She raced up to a group of people, but the invisible shield pushed them further away.

Mavis bent to pick up a handful of stones and started throwing them at Fwl.

He raised his arms to protect his head, then, remembering the stones couldn't hit him, he lowered them, straightened his tie and brushed down his suit.

He cleared his throat loudly. 'Mavis.'

Stones were still hurtling through him and landing on the ground behind him.

Ignoring his hurt feelings, he said, 'I've been told that you've made a deal with the Dewin.'

'Be gone! Be gone, you messenger from the devil! I will not be a part of your game,' she screamed, just as a stone whirled through his nose and hit the ground.

Mavis turned back to look at the people in the street. No one had taken any notice. She let out a sigh.

'Mavis, I need to speak with you.' Fwl took a deep breath. 'I need you to stop this nonsense with the Dewin. You know as well as I do that it won't end well for you.'

Mavis huffed, hitched up her skirt and marched away.

'You know I can't allow you to get the Dewin involved. Mavis? Are you listening to me?'

She picked up speed, and Fwl quickened his stride to keep up with her.

'I am begging you to stop this!' he pleaded.

Mavis stopped dead and turned to him, her face puffy and red.

'You listen here,' she growled, taking a step closer and raising her hand to point at him. 'I will not have my life played out by someone else. I have told you a hundred times, I will not be controlled by you, and neither should anyone else.'

'It's not like that, Mavis. I've told you this before. We are not playing games with your life,' he said, trying to sound reassuring.

'Well, that's what I heard!'

He held up his hands defensively. 'That's not what I told you. We guide people to make decisions... the right decisions.' He smiled weakly.

'Yes, control our thoughts!' she snapped. 'And the stronger gods have the most powerful people under their control, and they can do what they want!'

Fwl couldn't argue with that. 'I don't control you, Mavis.'

'I know,' she sneered, 'because I won't let you.' She leaned in closer to his face, so much so that he had to lean his head back. For a second, he was worried his neck would snap. Of course, he could have stayed still but her head would have gone through his, which would have been uncomfortable for both of them. He was just being polite.

Mavis pulled away and continued her march down the street.

'That's not how it works,' he said as he tried to catch up. 'I don't guide you because...' What were the right words? Words that wouldn't push her over the edge, well, any more than she already was.

'It's not that you won't let me. It's more that I can't guide you.'

He'd had this conversation with her before and it had ended with her trying to set him on fire. She always tried to hurt him physically. She couldn't, of course, but she never gave up trying.

'And what about everyone else? You control them!' she snapped, breathing heavily and slowing her pace a little.

'I don't control them; I've told you this,' he said calmly. 'I guide them. I help them make good choices. Let's stop and talk for a moment.'

Her breathing was laboured. 'Leave me be, you messenger from the devil.'

'Where are you going?'

Mavis picked up speed and turned down Murray Street. Fwl noticed the houses were less well kept there. The bushes and trees were overgrown, the cobbles were broken up as if someone had taken a sledgehammer to them. The houses were in need of repair. The further they walked down Murray Street, the worse it got. All the houses seemed to merge into one big building... an ugly one. The people were sitting in the street, looking almost zombie-like.

Fwl glanced around nervously. 'Why are you going down here?'

Mavis carried on walking.

'This is not a good place to be walking,' he said, looking around, then gasped and stopped. 'Mavis, the godless live here!'

The godless were the ones that the gods gave up on. No matter how many times they tried, they could not get through to these types. The job of the gods was to help, motivate and encourage, but some people couldn't be helped. Fwl had imagined there weren't many godless people, but the more he looked around, the more he realised there were many of them.

'Mavis!' he shouted. 'Why are you here?'

She stopped and turned. 'If you must know, I live here.'

'HOW DARE YOU! YOU ARE NOT GODLESS!' Outrage burned in him.

Mavis rolled her eyes at him and walked away.

He dashed after her. 'I'm sorry, I didn't mean to shout, but you are not godless.'

She didn't look back.

'I don't understand,' he said, struggling to keep up. 'I've always provided for you. I arranged for food to be brought to you regularly and for Mrs Davies to allow you to spend the rest of your days in her house,' he said, utterly confused as to why she was living in this awful place.

'She's dead,' Mavis said bluntly.

How had Fwl missed that? 'When did she pass away?'

'About three months ago,' she snapped.

'And you've been living here ever since?'

'No, I only just moved here,' she said. 'I was living in a barn with cows, but the owner threatened me with his shotgun.'

He had failed her.

No wonder she thought of herself as godless. No wonder she was there amongst those heathens. Fwl shot a sideways glance at a man who seemed to be sleeping, coughing and dribbling at the same time. He picked up his pace to catch up with his ward.

'Mavis, plea-'

'Stop talking, you fool,' she snapped. He hated it when she called him that. They both knew she wasn't calling him by his name.

Mavis turned right, followed a path and pushed open a wooden door. Fwl walked in after her. The wooden door led into a single room. There was a sink and a cupboard, and a pile of blankets in a corner in place of a bed. The walls were black with damp. Fwl felt sick. He had failed her. Completely.

Mavis picked up a large bag on top of the pile of blankets and walked out.

'Mavis!'

She didn't answer, and he took one more look around the room. His stomach lurched.

Fwl rushed after her. 'How long were you living there?'

'About a month,' she said. 'Do you still think I'm not godless?' She laughed at him.

Her heavy breathing worried Fwl, and she wasn't showing any signs of slowing.

'Where are we going?'

'I don't know where you're going, but I'm going south.'

'Wait, wait, wait,' he said, waving his arms and jumping in front of her.

She walked straight through him, but he carried on talking.

'I can't allow you to carry on like this, Mavis. I've watched you go crazy for too many years. I'm putting my foot down.'

She turned to him. 'Do you think you can stop me? After all these years, you've never been able to stop me doing anything.'

Fwl cleared his throat. 'You are my ward, Mavis. I won't allow you to see the Dewin.'

Mavis started to laugh. It was a small light laugh that turned into a loud barking cackle.

It sent shivers up Fwl's spine. 'Stop laughing.'

Mavis walked to the end of the street and turned left. Fwl watched her go. He could still hear her laughing when she was out of sight. He had always known her life wouldn't be like everyone else's; that was why he had tried to put things in place for her to live comfortably.

He dropped his head and followed her slowly.