The lion king
A brotherly death…
The wind blew slowly as the gleaming sun warmed the neighborhood. The different animals, already tired by the heaviness of the heat, looked for corners and places of shadows or some water. They were looking for freshness. Far off, a shadow was moving swiftly despite the heat, crossing the huge plains up to a deep and dark canyon. A magnificent and powerful lion, with a noble look was walking quickly. He was panting a bit, and his golden-brown mane glued to his forehead. He was wandering through his kingdom, as usual. A hornbill, perched on his big shoulder, was hiding his beak from the sun with his right wing. The sun shone even harder, making the lion slow down. This one eventually stopped, exhausted. He inhaled a good blow of the warm air of the savanna and started to walk once again. It has never been so shiny before. It has never been so deadly hot before.
He arrived in front of a water source, where he drank, as well as the bird, which seemed to drag his wings, rather pathetic. He was talking about living in a cavern in summer, like those bats. It made the lion laugh.
-Don't be like that, Zazu! There's not much places to visit now.
The hornbill jumped back on the shoulder and they left towards the tall grasses, far off, where the clear rocks were glittering and where the freshness so wished could be felt, being even more wished. Suddenly, a loud noise came to disturb the silence and the dust rose from the canyon. The lion looked back as his friend was scanning the dusty place.
-Oh, look sire, the herd is on the move…
-Odd…
Then, a rather thin lion with a dark brownish mane arrived behind Mufasa, apparently scared. He was panting, as he probably ran a long distance. His green eyes gleamed in the sunlight.
-Mufasa, quick, stampede, in the gorge… Simba's down there!
-Simba?!
They ran over there in a hurry, Mufasa arrived there the first, followed closely by his brother. Zazu scanned the neighborhood quickly, completely lost, and returned later, showing a rachitic tree, isolated in the middle of the herd. The brother frowned, trying to see it despite the dust and the sun that blinded them.
-There, there! On that tree!
-Hold on, Simba!
Witnessing the distress of his son, Mufasa jumped into the ravine and tried to dodge the terrified animals as best as he could. Some of these beasts, irritated, were shaking the head, hitting whatever was in their way. Mufasa got bruises and bite marks but bravely resisted. The dust rose, making him cough and disturbing his view. The heat, unbearable now, made the dust thicker and the ground completely dry. Some bits of gravel which were shoving by hooves crashed on the animals. The King got some in his eyes and in his mane. Arrived a little farther than the tree, he turned around in a tour, skillful, and ran again, the sight always shady and a bit blurred. He grunted, panted, but could only inhale some dust. He did not see a gnu turning around towards him, throwing him farther, by a violent blow in his ribs. He roared in pain but focused again on his helpless son, who was going to crash in the herd. With all his might, he jumped and caught him in his mouth. His son was safe. Now, they needed to be safe both.
Weaker, and blind, he was running among these crazy animals. He swiftly dodged the knocks, protecting his son. He was not able to avoid some and received these knocks, instead of his young. Some hurt him with their horns, the others threw him pebbles in the eyes, and the other ones gave him kicks. Half blind, he went into a gnu, which went to collide another, while the king fell on the ground, releasing Simba in the rush. The riot crushed him, trampled him. The lion cub, terrified, avoided the hooves and looked deeply on all sides to see his father. The thick dust gained his lungs, blocking any yell. Then, a shade appeared behind him and caught him by the back. Mufasa, again on his legs, rushed towards the rocky edges, where he gently put down his son, clutching restlessly. An animal picked him up in a violent horn crush and he crashed again at the bottom of the ravine…
-Dad!
Simba looked at the crazy herd with horror, looking for his father. The King, weak and wounded, tried to get up but horns and hooves were getting the best of him. He limped towards a rock, caught it and got up but an animal came to crash there with all its might and its length, crushing Mufasa at the same moment. A gnu fell on him, dead. The carcass protected him from getting hurt, but blood was dripping down on his body. When he saw his son looking for him in the stampede, he withdrew, climbed on the dead animal and jumped while roaring loudly. Reassured, Simba left to climb the cliff to find his father, making rocks fall behind him. The king took hold of the rocks with all his strength with his claws, climbed with difficulty and almost, repeatedly, fell at the bottom, to the gorge. Once at an edge, he raised his scratched head and saw his brother, who did not move, impassive. He was as cold as the ice in this heat.
-Scar!
He almost fell; his claws did not support his weight anymore. He climbed again, planting them more profoundly in the rock, almost breaking them. Looking at his brother again, he implored him. But his shiny green eyes were half closed.
-Brother… Help me!
He began to lose his forces, to give up. He tried to remain on his back legs. Rocks and pebbles fell in the ravine whereas the crazy and furious race of the gnus scrolled under their eyes. Mufasa saw him and did not know it, but inside his brother, was a storm. A storm under a head. Was it necessary to kill his brother to be happy? As well as his only nephew? All this for a throne and a lioness? He didn't know what to do. He panicked inside and, in front of the distress of his brother, as well as the death which stretched out little by little its arms to take his only brother, was increasing his fear. His brain, frozen, because of substances which went and came, gave him no order. He saw the darkness coming in a strange and scary way. It is then that a voice woke him up. That one of a lion cub named Taka, which loved his brother, young, still soft and innocent lion cub. Happy times when they were younger and used to play hide and seek. But the voice softly disappeared, little by little. Only to disappear as quickly as it came, like a candle in the deepest of caves. The thin lion looked, horrified, at his brother, who looked at him too, panicked, beginning to slide slowly towards his death. He would defy death, and protect life. In a powerful run-up, he jumped over the edge, clutching a leg and stretched out the other one to his brother. He struggled to catch him before it would be too late.
-Mufasa, quick! Give me your paw!
Mufasa stretched out his paw at him, as Scar squeezed it with all his might. But he continued as everything kept sliding off towards the bottom of the ravine as well as animals were more and more threatening. The King was sliding slowly towards his loss. They couldn't be both safe for they were too heavy and not strong enough. Something had to be done. For their safety. For the future. For Simba. So, he pulled abruptly his brother, who managed with difficulty to raise himself on the edge. The king did not dare to move, shaking, hurt. But he turned around minutes later, panting, breathless, tired and hurt. He choked lightly.
-Hey, brother! Thanks a lot! We did it!
But nobody answered and Mufasa's deep voice echoed through the deep and dark canyon as Simba joined him. He panicked and looked around him. Nobody was here. A dead silence came, as threatening and as thick as ever.
-Brother?
He got frightened and told his son to return home, in priderock. The young cub didn't respond, heading back towards his home, not looking back, feeling horribly guilty. Then only, he came down in the gorge henceforth empty and walked all the way back to the place he thought the tree was. Some trees, which had grown despite the weather, were broken and the ground was soiled by some blood… The dust fell again little by little. Mufasa saw better and breathed better too. The sun was less strong, as well as the heat. An animal arrived, by small jumps, and walked past the king, exceeding a tree next to a rock. Mufasa looked at the ground near the rock. There were small drops of blood.
-Brother?
The voice of the lion darkly echoed, the echo being heard on kilometers. Frightened, all the animals in the savanna bent down when they heard it. The rock showed itself of a funny shape, rather strange. Worried, Mufasa moved faster and stopped a few meters away. There, under the tree, was lying Scar. His black mane was stained with dust and blood, his whiskers were torn away, his mouth, remained half-opened, let him saw that some teeth were missing, and there were two marks of hooves on his side. Mufasa came there, sitting by his side. He hiccupped; some tears sank on the ground. The king tried to hold some tears but couldn't resist to the sadness that overwhelmed him and struggled not to fall. How could that happen? He fell, collapsing on the cold ground in a loud thud, weaker than ever. But his fall was also sentimental. He could not believe how weak he truly was when he was facing greater forces like death. He put his paw on his brother's. He remained silent a long time, only his shaky breaths could be heard. His brother did not move an inch.
-You killed yourself… Just to save me…
The silence returned, strong and heavy. The dust fell again completely, revealing the macabre scene. Mufasa roared in sadness and in some strange rage towards death. All animals around were shacking, just by hearing his powerful roar which hit like thunder. The ground was now soiled by blood and tears. It was a brotherly death…