Athlan and Iníon Unterwhackle stepped through the rotting wooden fence at the edge of new Kinnegad. Behind them was a thriving city. In front of them was a large crumbling castle.

Father and daughter walked to the gate house entrance to the castle. 

They were met by a stooped caretaker, and a sign above an empty plastic box declaring ‘donations are welcome’.

Athlan spat on the ground.

Iníon sensed hesitancy. 

‘Do we really need to be here Dad?’, she asked,  ‘I mean, we learned about it at school. Plus, nobody talks about those times.’

Athlan didn’t reply. He was lost in thought. 

‘Some things are meant to be forgotten. If we go back now we could catch the end of the Nangelball game.’, suggested Iníon 

She then leaned in and whispered into her father’s ear, ‘And that wrinkly old fart of a caretaker looks creepy, can we not just go back?’

When her father replied, it was in a slow and sad voice. A tone Iníon rarely heard.

‘We came here the night your Uncle died’, he said, ‘All the young people. We all came together. In through this gate.’

Iníon felt a pang of guilt. The trip was clearly important to her father. She quietly switched on her earpods, and began feigning interest.

Athlan walked into the large arched entrance towards the inner courtyard of the castle.

The caretaker nodded as he walked past.

‘Your daughter doesn’t like me, she thinks I’m creepy’, hissed the old man

‘Bugger off’, said Athlan.

The old man took a step back and pointed to the plastic bucket ‘A donation would be nice’,

‘Bugger off’, said Athlan for a second time.

‘You were there that night, weren’t you?’ asked the old man. He then bowed his head and mumbled an apology.

Athlan ignored the apology, and walked into the courtyard. Iníon absentmindedly followed.

The pair stopped walking at the center of the inner courtyard of the castle. Green and purple vegetation had reclaimed most of the space. The walls were still recognisable, and a high tower at the opposite end to the gate house was still imposing, but everything else was in decay. There were several large rusting tracked vehicles dumped on the cracked stone pacing.

Athlan walked over to one of them, and frowned. Iníon followed, ‘What is it?’ she asked.

‘An Omperdon gun. Just like the one that killed your Uncle.’

Iníon switched off her earpods and looked around.

‘Is this where it happened?’ she asked.

‘No’, said Athlan, ‘he was killed outside the transmitter. We ran here afterwards. None of us knew what to do. We didn’t think. We just ran. I don’t know what they teach you in school, but it was chaos that night.’

‘We, erm’, said Iníon quietly, ‘we didn’t learn much. Only that nobody really knows why the soldiers did what they did. And none of them have ever talked.’

Athlan glanced angrily towards the gate house.

‘I don’t think those men really know themselves’, he said.

He looked up at the tower.

‘You need to understand how it was back then, Iníon. The king ruled, and there was no other reality. The great King Uachtar. Our lives revolved around his will. That man was born with the gift of telepathy so he was anointed. Back then all the rulers were telepaths. You know this.’

‘Not really’, said Iníon quietly.

Her fathers coughed his words ‘What do you mean ‘not really’?’ 

‘Well, I mean the teacher might have mentioned it. It’s just it was so long ago. And that’s all over now. I’m sorry Dad, but nobody cares about that time. All the kids are into music, and Nangleball.’

‘Well you should all care. It’s important. You need to know how life was.’

‘What was it like?’

‘There was no music and no Nangelball for a start. Whatever we did, we did to serve the Uachtar, our ruler. And he was a cruel jealous person. Jealous of another ruler, a ruler in the Corossus star system. The king Iachtar. Our ruler hated Iachtar, so we were all supposed to hate Iachtar. All of us. The entire planet. Can you imagine such a thing? And would you believe that King he hated was actually his own brother?’

Athlan shot another angry glance towards the gate house, and then pointed upwards towards the tower at the opposite end of the courtyard.

‘Up on that tower he’d be. Standing out on the balcony. Making endless speeches about how we must sack the kingdom of Iachtar. We. All of us.  Like we were part of his family.’

Athlan spat angrily onto the ground again, and continued talking. Iníon listened.

‘All those ruling telepaths were related, you know. You could probably trace the lot of them back to one family. One fork in evolution with a power to read minds. And it should have been a good thing. Perfect leaders. Gifted with complete understanding of others. A gift that would bring the worlds of the galactic spiral arm together.’

Athlan looked back to the gate house, and then to his daughter,

‘But those telepaths were deeply flawed people Iníon’, he said , ‘greedy, vain, aggressive, uncaring people. The gift of insight came with a price. And the citizens of the Kingdoms of Iachtar and Uachtar paid that price.’

Iníon said nothing. She stood and let her father speak.

‘Every year Uachtar’s demands on us grew heavier. Almost a whole generation was lost to feeding the King’s war machine. You have to imagine the way it was Iníon. Everything revolved around the war against the Kingdom of Iachtar. We had no freedom. The best we could hope for in life was to be overlooked when he wanted crew for one of the raids on Iachtar’s kingdom. Each attack failed with the loss of everyone involved. Iachtar knew Uachtar’s every move. They were both telepaths for Obbeldygon sake. You’d think they would have known the futility of what they did. But it didn’t stop them. Nothing could. Telepaths. Their minds were warped.’

‘So, erm, what happened to Uncle?’ asked Iníon, ‘I, uh, know he died during the collapse of the old kingdom, but just not exactly how. Sorry’

‘It hurts me that you don’t know’, said Athlan, ‘I should have told the story better. I suppose it’s my fault. I wanted to forget, but deep down I can’t. I want you to listen to me now though. And tell your friends. Because it is the reason you can be carefree, and listen to earpods, and think about music, and Nangelball, and have all the other distractions that fill your life.’

Iníon nodded.

Athlan threw another glance at the gate house before he spoke.

‘Uachtar could read minds. But not all minds all at once. And even though we were still young, we understood that. And we understood that the older generation were tired, broken. All they had known was the rule of telepaths. They had come to accept it. Your Uncle was from a different generation. It was my generation too.’

Athlan stared up at the tower as he spoke.

‘It was a dark evening at the change of seasons. Nothing special. I think that might have been why it took Uachtar by surprise. It was just a normal night. Or maybe the King was busy trying to read his brother’s intentions. Nobody knew why, but he never stopped the gathering that night. So we all went to the transmitter. All the young people. From all over. We demanded that the guards there recall the fighters from the kingdom of Iachtar. Then we all sat down. And chanted. And that got Uachtars attention.’

Athlan looked around the courtyard, briefly distracted. ‘Would you believe this place used to be paved with Aldernon crystals?’ he said. He spat angrily at the cracked stone and purple green vegetation below his feet.

‘What happened at the transmitter?’ asked Iníon.

‘Uachtar sent in Omperdon guns. Just like that one over there. We didn’t think they would turn on us. We didn’t believe an army would turn on its own people. But it did. They just rolled in. Six of them. Right into the crowd. Your Uncle was with a group that sat in their way.’

Athlan looked back over at the tower opposite the gate house.

‘I’m sorry’, said Iníon.

‘Don’t be. Maybe you are right. Maybe things like that are best left in the past. Maybe that’s why nobody talks about it. Maybe it is meant to be forgotten. I thought you should know. Be told about it properly. Be reminded of it. But now I’m here I realize that I don’t even want to remind myself of that day.’

‘That’s okay, we can just go home, if we go now we can catch the second half of the Nangleball.’

Athlan shook his head.

‘I tried pulling your uncle’s body out from under the tracks. I had hold of his arm you know. He was dead. We were all screaming for the gun to move back. And then they opened fire. So we ran. We ran here. Can you believe it? We ran here. Right to the home of hatred. Straight to the courtyard of King Uachtar. We all flooded in that gate over there. Screaming. Panicked. I don’t know what we were thinking. I don’t think we were thinking at all..’

Athlan pointed up to the tower.’ Uachtar was standing on that balcony.’’

‘What happened?’

‘He ordered guns in. The Omperdons. They rolled in that gate after us. We were trapped. And then they stopped.’

‘They stopped?’

‘Just stopped. And the soldiers got out. And walked away.’

‘Why?’

‘Nobody knows. Maybe for the same reason that us kids went to the transmitter. Maybe they just didn’t want to kill their own. Maybe they were sick of the bitter rule of telepaths. Maybe all it took was for one soldier to turn. To show the others that it was possible. Whatever it was, they walked away. And it wasn’t just here. We heard later that it was the same in the Kingdom of Iachtar. The soldiers just downed their weapons. And went home.’

Athlan and his daughter stood in silence for several minutes.

‘You know Iníon’, he said, ‘we should go home too. I thought it would be good to remember. But sometimes it is better not to. It is good that your life is about music, and friends, and nangelball..’

Athlan turned and walked out through the gate house. Iníon went to put some coins in the bucket, but he stopped her.

‘Don’t’ he said, ‘let this place rot.’

Athlan and Iníon Unterwhackle stepped through the rotting wooden fence at the edge of new Kinnegad. Behind them was a crumbling castle. In front of them was a thriving city.

‘What happened to the King Uachtar, where did he go?’ Iníon asked.

‘There is a reason that the caretaker gave you the creeps’ replied her father.