Disclaimer - I do not own the Lion King or even my OC...you'll just have to read and find out why I don't.

The field was part of a large oasis, a wonderful place of life and beauty in the depths of a barren desert. Now, that empty desert was more barren than ever, and it was inside the figure, who paced and thought on and around an old log in the middle of the field.

The figure was distraught, with so much anger and want in him that he could hardly bear it. He was a lion, and quite a pathetic one, too. He was Simba, and he was alone, forsaken, and fatherless. He had left his home as a cub after he was charged with the murder of his father, Mufasa, which was actually the work of his uncle Scar. Now, Scar sat on the throne of Pride Rock, refusing to allow the capability of moving the pride to a better location, for the once luscious Pridelands had now become a desolate and barren place of famine, where hyenas mocked and penalized the lion residents. Simba had been living in the oasis since he ran away, and when a shadow from his past showed up again in his life, he now had to make a choice.

"I can't be king. I wouldn't even know how. The pride is better off with Scar," he thought, in complete denial of his past. Simba didn't know what to do. He was hopeless.

"You promised you'd be there whenever I needed you; whenever I call your name, you're not anywhere!" he cried, as his heart sang a depressing lament of an endless night; still trying to hold on, and still waiting to hear the voice of his father. Simba could care less if it were just one word, and that would do enough to end this nightmare. For the longest time, his father was but a fading memory, but still a thriving pain. Simba realized in that moment that he should try once more to forget everything from his past, and that his father would never give him hope.

Or so he thought.

"Asante sana, squash banana!" chanted an old mischievous mandrill repeatedly. Simba didn't have the sense nor the nerves to handle the crazy chimp, who was obviously directing himself towards the sunken stupor of the lion. Oddly enough, the money had a stick. He repeated the chant closer to Simba.

"Come on, would you cut it out?" Simba asked, as politely as he possibly could.

"Can't cut it out, it'll grow right back!" the primate laughed. To this, Simba just walked away, hoping to find solitude again. Unfortunately for him, the baboon followed.

"Creepy little monkey. Will you stop following me? Who are you?" Simba asked, annoyed and upset.

"The question is: Who... are you?" said the old ape, right in Simba's face, which startled the lion.

"I thought I knew. Now I'm not so sure," said Simba, sighing.

"Well, I know who you are! Shh, come here, it's a secret!" said the mandrill, who pulled Simba's head close to him to whisper his remark.

"Asante sana, squash banana! We we nugu, mi mi apana!" chanted he. Simba was losing his patience very quickly.

"Ugh! Enough, already! What's that supposed to mean, anyway?"

"It means you are a baboon - and I'm not," laughed the monkey. Now Simba knew he was crazy.

"I think you're a little confused," Simba said, walking away again.

Suddenly, the baboon appeared, as if magically, right in front of Simba, "Wrong!" he exclaimed, "I'm not the one who's confused; you don't even know who you are!"

Simba was irritated by this remark, "Oh, and I suppose you know?" he asked sarcastically.

"Sure do! You're Mufasa's boy!"

Simba gasped, for he was definitely surprised by this, "How could he know? How could a silly old ape know about my past?" he thought.

"Bye!" said the monkey as he disappeared.

"Hey wait!" said Simba. He had to know what just happened. He chased the monkey, who was now meditating, lotus-style, on top of a small boulder. "You knew my father?" he asked, panting.

"Correction – I know your father," the mandrill said in a monotone.

Simba knew this wasn't possible. He didn't want to spill this old of news to such a...happy creature. He felt bad for the ape, now, and he felt as though he had to tell him the terrible but very real truth.

"I hate to tell you this, but... he died. A long time ago," he sighed, sadly.

Suddenly, the monkey jumped off the rock, "Nope. Wrong again! Ha ha ha! He's alive, and I'll show him to you! He's not alone, either! You follow old Rafiki, he knows the way!" he said as he directed Simba towards a dense jungle. At this, Simba's thoughts jumped sky high. It was a mix of vast confusion, curiosity, and hope. Simba chased after Rafiki, whose name was now known to him, through the jungle. Simba shouted at Rafiki to wait up for him, while the mandrill responded to hurry up.

"What did he mean 'He's not alone'? Where is he going? How is my father alive?!" Simba thought, as he raced through the dark jungle. At one point, he thought that he'd lost Rafiki, and that this was all a terrible, tormenting dream. He started hearing the loud and shrill laughs of the old monkey in his head, "Geez," he thought, "I'm going crazy!"

Suddenly those thoughts were no more, as everything in Simba's head quickly ceased, and everything seemed completely silent.

Rafiki stopped Simba at the jungle's clearing, with a hand put right in his face. There was a small stream nearby. Simba knew this place, for he had drank at this very stream with his friends Timon and Pumbaa just a few days earlier, and countless times before. He motioned to Simba towards some reeds at the stream's bank.

"Shh," Rafiki whispered, as he parted the reeds and pointed past them, towards the water, "Look down there."

Simba quietly and carefully worked his way toward the water. He looked into the stream, but only saw the face he knew for years and years: his own. The lion was nevertheless startled by his mature appearance, and how it bared a resemblance to that of his late father's, though he still clearly realized it was normal. Simba was also curious and somewhat confused about what Rafiki had said, that Mufasa was 'not alone'.

"That's not my father, it's just my reflection, and there's no one else, either," he sighed, with disappointment.

"Nooo... Look harder," Rafiki said, motioning again to the pool.

Simba looked again, closer this time. He now saw ripples in the water, which distorted his face and resolved it into that of his father, Mufasa. Although this was miraculous to him, he saw something that was nearly unexplainable.

"You see, they live in you," Rafiki said.

There were three figures, excluding Mufasa, of course. One of them Simba simply could not see, for the light surrounding it was blinding, but the other two were just as unorthodox. To Mufasa's right, Simba saw a figure that looked extremely bruised and battered, with blood all over him, and thorns entangled around in a circle placed on his forehead. Above Mufasa, Simba saw another unfathomable sight: a spirit, one that looked like it had the essence of all the life in the world within it. Suddenly, a rumbling sound ensued and the three figures became one, but each figure still retained its original shape. Then, he heard a voice.

"Simba," said the voice, and at this, Simba looked up from the pool and saw a large cloud with the visions of his father. The three other visions changed, too, and the stars of the night gathered around to form the figure's shapes, still together, but still distinct.

"Father?" Simba asked. He was awestruck, and almost incapable of speech from the sight of this image.

"Simba, you have forgotten us," Mufasa said. This was awkward for Simba, as he didn't even know the other figures.

"No. How could I?" Simba asked with denial.

"You have forgotten who you are, and so, forgotten me, and in this process forgotten the most important: them," Mufasa said.

"And who are they?" Simba asked.

"I am that I am. I am the Alpha and the Omega – the beginning and the end, and you have forgotten us. We are the Trinity, and we are the mightiest of the almighty, the Kings of the Past, and you have neglected our presence for a long time. You must return to your homeland," said the figures, all at once.

"They are right. Look inside yourself, Simba. You are more than what you have become. You must take your place in the Circle of Life," Mufasa added.

"But how can I go back? I'm not who I used to be," Simba said.

"But you are," said the figures, "You are a child of God, and everything you have done, all the sins you have committed, will be washed away, for the Son died the most brutal of deaths for you, and all you have to do is take up His name."

"But how?" Simba asked.

"Remember who you are. You are my son, and the one true King," said Mufasa and the figures. Simba's face was now bathed in the golden light that was his father and the Kings. He was in awe, sadness, and fear. "How am I their son?" he thought. He was very afraid.

"We now redeem your soul! In the Name of the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit!" said the figures. Simba now felt a holy presence inside of him.

Mufasa and the figures started to fade, as they repeated, "Remember who you are," and Simba tried to follow them. The stars began to go back to their normal stances.

"No! Please! Don't leave me!" Simba exclaimed.

"Remember….," Mufasa said.

"Father!"

"Remember…," said the figures.

"Don't leave me!"

"Remember….."

Simba did not want them to leave, but he knew what he had to do, and soon after Rafiki reminded him of his task, and the morals he should take in onto his life, he left the oasis and started on the journey home. A tune kept playing in his head, as if God himself placed it in there, and he answered it with everything in him:

I know that the night must end, and that the sun will rise,

And that the sun will rise,

I know that the clouds must clear, and that the sun will shine,

And that the sun will shine.

"I know that the night must end, and that the sun will rise, since I've heard your voice deep inside! I know that the night must end, and that the clouds will clear!" he sang.

"The Son will rise!"

It is as they say - He has risen, indeed. In the book of Revelation in the Bible, it is explained that those who believe that Jesus is the Christ - the Son of the Living God, who was brutally beaten, mocked, scorned, and finally nailed to the rugged cross for the sanctity of everyone, and then rose again from the grave - will be cleansed forever in the eternal waters of life, and therefore live forever in paradise. This story is a gift for those who may not believe, those who strive to contrast the Faith, for I am praying for you, and I don't want to see many unattended, for He is COMING BACK! JUST LIKE SIMBA! So I encourage you to all read your Bibles and listen to His word, for it is holy! I wish you all wonderful, beautiful lives.

Busa.