Disclaimer: I do not, regrettably, own The Lion King or any recognizable characters, instances, etc. All such are property of that one company run by Mickey Mouse. I am not making money from this, in fact I'm draining my electricity bill…but the price of art…;-)
Warning: Watch out for people with dull spoons, they're the ones you'll never suspect. Rated T as purely a cushion of protection. I don't think I'll put anything to graphic in here, so don't be alarmed.
Note: For those of you who are unaware, Kopa is Simba's first son. He's the one Rafiki holds up at the end of the first Lion King movie (notice the cub looks nothing like Kiara, and why would they do the ceremony twice?). He's in some of the original Lion King spin-off books, but mysteriously disappears between the books and Simba's Pride. Coincidence? I don't think so. This is what I would have had happen if I were in charge (*sigh* someday).
Comment, por favor. Me le gustan mucho.
Gracias, con amor…Priestess Mayumi.
Chapter One: Fire
Fire. Smoke. Fire.
The emotions were dizzying.
Fire. Smoke. Fire.
Pride Rock was burning around her, but she was too confused to register it. All she thought about was the smoke, thick and towering above her. She was not afraid.
Fear is a deadly emotion.
The screams resounded all around her. Mostly female, though she could pick out a few scattered male tones.
Father.
She couldn't move. Her legs wouldn't respond to her mental prompts. Her senses were overloaded. Nothing was clear. It had all become a kaleidoscope of color and sound, all the images before her eyes blurring and blending together.
Numb, she forcefully pounced onto her feet. Numbly, she raced along the rocky ledges, trying to find someone…something…anything that would give her a clue to what was going on.
A cold, and quite unexpected drop of ice cold water dropped on her. Smelling an odd smell in the air, she looked up. Rain. Rain.
Rain is fire's worst enemy.
Things were becoming sharper now…clearer. The sounds became more distinct. Joy, she heard. Happiness, contentment, and hope.
But masked, in the darkness, in a black corner, there was something else. Sorrow. Fear. Anger…
…Hatred.
All of the sudden, out of the corner of her eye, a shape dodged in front of her. Though it had probably been far enough away that she could have avoided it, her vision told her to swerve. The combination of burnt roots and slick stone was her enemy. She heard the soggy branch crack, and then she felt…falling.
Falling…just falling.
It was all going black now. In the back of her head she heard a proud lion's roar, but even louder was the sound of the mournful voices that cried, and the few that called her name, expecting an answer.
