Harmony makes small things grow, lack of it makes great things decay
- Sallust, Roman Historian
Chapter I
A round of turbulence rocked the old metal plane, shaking it's only passenger, a young American known as Bryan Anderson, awake from his nap. He groggily looked about the cramp cabin, wiping his dazed eyes several times. The hum of the planes propellar echoed through the cargo filled plane, drowing out any other noise that was made. Bryan looked down at his feet for his headset and found it lying under a small bag. He shoved the bag aside and picked up the large headset, setting it firmly on his head.
On the side of one of the ear muffs was a small switch which turned on the headset's raido functionalities. Flipping the switch into the on position, Bryan adjusted the headset's large microphone before speaking.
"Pilot," he said, his voice carrying the sound of sleepiness, "what's our ETA?"
The pilot of the small aircraft, who held a thick British accent came over the intercom and responded to Bryan's question.
"It's about twenty kilometers until the landing strip, sir. Might wanna buckle up back there, I'm beginning our descent."
Another round of turbulence rocked the aircraft, prompting Bryan to make sure his seat belt was securely fastened around his slim waist.
The sooner we get on the ground, the better. If only Delta reached this far out into the African Savannah, Bryan thought as he pushed the microphone away from his mouth.
"What brings you out to Mahali Salama anyhow? It's been a while since I've flown any living passenger, not that I'm complaining. Cargo don't make good conversationalists, if ya know what I mean," the Pilot asked with a laugh at the end.
Bryan chuckled at the quip and said, "Decided I'd spend some time there, maybe help around as well."
"If ya don't mind me asking, but how'd a self respecting American like yourself end up wanting to work on an old animal reservation," the Pilot inquired as he guided the plane closer to the ground.
"Technically I'm not working for them. I'm a freelance photographer just wanting to get a few pretty picture of life on a reservation. I've actually been traveling around Africa for the past few months, compiling all sorts of photos on the culture and life of it's people, but I hadn't looked into the life of the animals. Mahali Salama was willing to let me spend a couple weeks in their facilities to cover the animals they house," Bryan explained as another round of turbulence rocked the cabin.
"Ballsy work right there, being freelance and all. I couldn't handle not knowing if I'd have a job the next day," the Pilot observed.
Bryan nodded his head in understanding and said, "It can get pretty scary sometimes. But it has it's perks. I get to show people the stuff I want to see."
"First you gotta find people who will pay attention," the Pilot laughed.
"That is also very true," Bryan said, laughing along with the Pilot.
The bi-plane was nearing the ground as Bryan and the Pilot finished their conversation. The Pilot turned back to focus on the controls and making sure that the plane didn't end up crashing into the run way.
The term run way could be used lightly for the small air field that was outside of Mahali Salama Animal Sanctuary. It was more like a mowed down strip of grass and weeds that was roughly the length of a normal tarmac landing strip at a much more modern airport. The inches may be lacking in both length and width, but it was landable none the less.
Bryan felt the plane bounce as the wheels touched the ground, kicking up a large cloud of dust and debri. The Pilot made sure that all of the flaps were functioning properly as he lightly applied the plane's breaks, slowly bring the plane to a hault.
Once Bryan heard the plane's propellar shut off, he unbuckled himself and stood up in the small cabin, barely reaching his full height of six feet. The Pilot sat up as well, stretching slightly before walking over to the plane's single door and swinging it open, He jumped down into the mowed grass and was followed by Bryan.
From the minute he stepped out of the plane, Bryan felt like he was in another world. Surrounding him was tall grass and baobab trees that dotted the landscape. The intense African sun was beating down on the landscape constantly, giving light to all of the surrounding area. But perhaps the most notable aspect of the landscape was the sound of the animals. It was a constant chatter of cicada's, birds, and other random creatures that remained hidden from the two humans.
The savannah was a truly different part of Africa, one that Bryan was enamored with. It's untouched beauty prompted Bryan to run back into the plane and quickly grab his single piece of luggage, a hiking backpack dirited from months of use. He fumbled with the zipper of it's main compartment as he pulled out his large digital camera. Slinging the backpack around his shoulder, the young photographer brought the camera's viewfinder up to his eye and began to snap pictures of the landscape.
The Pilot, who had been focusing on unloading the several wooden crates of supplies he had been chartered to deliever, looked up from his work and chuckled as he watched Bryan snap hundreds of pictures. The shutter of the camera was flickering constantly, prompting its sound to mix in with the other sounds of the wild animals.
"Oi, Mr. Anderson, you can take plenty o' pictures once you've helped me get all this here cargo to the sanctuary," the Pilot called as he watched Bryan spin around in place with the camera.
Bryan looked up from his marathon of photo taking and smiled sheepishly.
"My bad. It's just, wow! I've never seen such a unqiue landscape before. It just feels so, alive," he said as he slung his camera around his neck and walked over to the Pilot.
"She's a beauty, that's for sure," the Pilot replied before climbing back into the plane to grab another box.
Bryan followed suit, deciding to grab a couple of the duffle bags that were sitting along with the wooden crates and cardboard boxes. He fell into a rythm of unloading, taking several different items out at a time and then placing them in separate piles once they were on the grass.
As he and the Pilot got out the last bit of it, Bryan wiped his brow, brushing past his shaved head and thin eyebrows. Sighing lightly, he noticed a large, tan truck driving in from the east. No doubt it was their welcoming party.
Bryan and the Pilot watched as the truck pulled to a stop a few feet away from their unloaded cargo. The passengers, a pair of burly Kenyan males and a young female, stepped out of the truck and approched the two waiting travelers.
The female was around Bryan's age of twenty-six. Her hair was tied into a bun that was secured by what appeared to be a rubber band. She had brilliant dark skin that seemed to glisten in the sunlight as she walked along with the two men. She smiled as she approached Bryan and the Pilot.
"Greetings to you Chester," she smiled, speaking to the Pilot.
"Mornin' miss," Chester smiled back.
"And to you as well, Mr. Anderson," she said, now speaking to Bryan. "I am Elewa, one of the senior directors of Mahali Salama. These two gentlemen are Fanaka and Hali, two of our animal caretakers and handy men."
Fanaka, the taller of the two men, extended his hand for a hand shake. Bryan shook it, noticing his strong grip and then shook Hali's hand. The two men then walked over to the cargo stacks and began to help Chester load the cargo into the truck.
"It's a pleasure to meet you Miss Elewa," Bryan said, shaking Elewa's hand. "And please, call me Bryan."
"Will do, Bryan. We are honored to have you here with us," Elewa stated.
"Well it's a huge honor for you guys to let me come after such short notice. I'm not even in the sanctuary itself and I've already got some really good photos," Bryan said, taking another quick glance around.
Elewa chuckled and said, "You actually are already on the sanctuary's land."
"Really? I always thought these sanctuaries were like zoos and kept the animals housed in a central location. You guys actually let the animals roam free?" Bryan asked, astonished to hear what Elewa had said.
"Within certain boundaries, of course," she stated. "We have several perimeter fences around our land to keep the animals from getting too far away. The land inside the fence is separated into different zones so we can maintain a more controlled environment for the animals. Our main outpost is located centrally. It houses several holding pens for our animals as well as the employee sleeping areas and main offices."
As soon as Elewa hand begun to discuss the logistics of the sanctuary, Bryan reached into his cargo shorts pockets and pulled out his handy dandy notebook. He eagerly scribbled down what Elewa said so he could compile a lovely story to go along with the multitude of photographs he shall be taking in the coming weeks.
"I hope you don't mind my note taking," he said as he finished up.
"Not at all Bryan," Elewa smiled. "It's nice to see a visitor so eager to learn about what we do here."
Bryan smiled back as he tucked the note pad back into his pocket. He then held up his camera and aimed it at Elewa.
"Picture? I can't complete my story without getting one of the lovely Elewa."
Bryan swore he had seen a hint of blushing under her dark skin as he asked her.
"Absolutely," she replied.
With her consent, Bryan centered the camera's lens on Elewa, framing her upper body against a Baobab tree. As he went to take the photo, he noticed a peculiar figure standing under the shade of the tree. It appeared to be an elderly man wearing only a garb around his waist. The man was carrying a large curved stick with what looked like little charms tied at random places around it.
Bryan focused back onto Elewa and quickly snapped the photo.
"Who's that standing under the tree," he asked as he lowered the camera.
Elewa looked puzzled and turned around to look at the tree. Bryan focues his gaze back on it but was met with a surprising sight. Whoever or whatever the old man was, he was gone.
"I don't see anyone over there," Elewa said, turning back to Bryan. "Don't worry about it. The African heat can play tricks on the unaccustomed mind. Let's go ahead and head back to the compound. I'm sure you're eager to see some of our animals."
Before answering Elewa, Bryan quickly scanned the surrounding area for the peculiar old man. Seeing no trace of him and writing the old man off as a simple illusion, Bryan nodded in reply to Elewa's suggestion.
The young supervisor caught his response and turned around, heading back to the truck, which was nearly loaded with all of the cargo. Bryan took several steps behind her before noticing a lack of any sort of jingling on his side. He quickly patted the left side of his belt and realized his canteen was still in the plane.
"One second Elewa," he called out. "I need to go grab something!"
Elewa nodded as she climbed into the truck's cabin. With haste, Bryan quickly turned around and sprinted back to the plane's door. He climbed back into the cabin and looked around his seat for the rounded canteen. He breathed a sigh of relief when he found it lying under the cushioned seat. With all of his belongings secured, Bryan climbed out of the cabin, turning his back to the door when he jumped down onto the ground.
"Agh! What the hell," Bryan cried as he turned around. His eyes suddenly began to sting and water due to some strange dust or powder that was blown into them. Some of the powder was also caught by his mouth as he spoke, causing him to fall on his knees as he rubbed his eyes and spit the dust out.
"Tangu siku hii mpaka mwisho, asili atazungumza nawe, na wewe kuelewa," a raspy yet soothing voice said as Bryan continued to relieve his face of the powder.
With his vision nearly normal again, Bryan looked up and saw the outline of someone standing above him, their arm raised over his forehead and fingers spread wide. He blinked and rubbed his eyes several more times, and when his vision finally came too, the figure had vanished.
"Okay," he said, wigged out from what just happened. "I definietly need to get out of the heat.
Before returning to Elewa and the truck, he uncapped his canteen and splashed some of the cool water on his face. He also decided to not tell any of the others what just happened. Even if it wasn't real, he didn't want Elewa to think they had just let some crazy journalist who sees people and randomly has dust thrown in his face into their sanctuary.
When he returned back to the truck, Bryan climbed into the passenger side of the truck, siting down next to Elewa. She turned on the ignition, revving the truck a few times before shifting it into gear.
"You okay," she asked, taking a quick glance over to Bryan. "You look as if you had just seen a ghost."
"Oh, I'm fine," he lied. "Still not used to this heat yet."
Elewa chuckled as she turned her focus back to the small dirt road that was etched in the landscape. Bryan, in turn, rested his head on his hand. He gazed out of the truck's rear view mirror, looking back at the plane as it became smaller and smaller.
Out of the corner of his eye, Bryan caught a glimpse of the same old man standing in his original spot. Like the first time, the old man's gaze was dead set on Bryan and Bryan alone. As of right now, Bryan decided to pay what he just saw and had experienced no mind. He turned his gaze to the front of the truck and looked out across the rolling savannah.
Welp, here it is! My first ever Lion King fanfiction! To be honest, I never saw myself as the type of guy to go out and write a story set in The Lion King universe. But the muse works in mysterious ways, and I found myself desiring to delve into it's universe and carve out my own little story.
Just as a forewarning, I don't plan to have any sort of "human transforming into a lion" aspect of the story. I'm still working some things plot wise out, so that may change.
Also, please remember to review, favorite, or follow. It sure does make me happy when you guys do!
Keep on truckin' readers!
JacksonMW
DISCLAIMER: The Lion King is not mine! I only own my OC's and the stories over all plot.