Okay, guys and gals, before we get started I wanna thank those of you who read and reviewed the prologue. It is much appreciated :)

And to those who have read, but haven't reviewed, could you please do so? That would also be appreciated.

Also, to answer some questions left by the reviewers…

Milamber – Thank you for calling the prologue epic. That's what I was going for. And yes, I have read The Chronicles of the Pridelands and consider the entire saga as a whole to be absolutely amazing and a great source of inspiration for writing. Aiheu did inspire me to put in God or Rahimu into this story, and He will play a special part. I hope you continue to read. Thank you very much.

Orgrandebatata – As always, your reviews are a delight to me. It seems that there was some confusion with what you read in the prologue, so let me use this time before you read the new chapter to clear it up… Shabihi is not a lion, but a lioness. Therefore she is not the prince of the lands that suffers such slaughter. Shabihi is the lioness who saves the last remaining cub. You'll be seeing Shabihi and her adopted son in later chapters. And yes, Abasi was weak and so was his mate, Ruhusa. Everyone has some kind of weakness, right. And don't worry, I'll try not to keep you in suspense as to what this story is about too long, but every story has a beginning, even if this one does begin in the slaughter of a realm and its people. Also if the idea of deities intrigues you, well, that's great. I hope this chapter does the same.

All right, I think that just about clears it all up, now, on with the show!

Chapter 1

King Dhoruba of the Western Plains stared out into his kingdom, watching the sunrise. Glancing up at the sky he noticed it was going to be a mildly clear day. A few clouds here and there, but he didn't care. As long as the sun was shining, he was pleased. But he couldn't smile no matter how long he looked out into the lands.

In the distance, he could see some animals as they made their way to the waterholes to drink or bathe, or both. He wished he could join them. But he was rooted to his seated position on the rock ledge. He'd been there for hours. He'd slept there, leaving the warmth of the royal chambers, the close soothing presence of his mate, the queen, and the knowledge that his grown son and daughter were there because they wanted to be, because they'd been sleeping in those chambers their entire lives. They were born there.

His pride of lionesses slept in the main den behind him.

The guardians, the protectors of the kingdom and the royal family, had their own chambers in the main den. The guards were a family – literally related by blood. Dhoruba bowed his head, knowing that the time for them to go out and patrol was nearing. He didn't have to tell them. They knew what to do and when to do it. He trusted them, all of them, but the eldest guardian, the male, same age as he… Dhoruba trusted him with his life, just as his late father-in-law, the former king before him, had.

A yawn escaped Dhoruba's mouth and he shut his eyes. Even with the sleep he'd gotten he was still tired. He knew why and it made him shake his head.

"Maybe I should see Ibada," he muttered to himself as he looked down at his claws. He considered it, and with a flick of his head, dismissed the idea. Even if the shaman of the Plains could help him, explaining it was what worried Dhoruba. If he explained it he would see it in his mind. He trembled. Having the dreams, or the nightmares as he'd mentally come to call them, was bad enough. Explaining them in full detail to anyone, let alone the shaman himself… Dhoruba shook his head sharply. No. He couldn't go to the shaman… yet.

He shrugged and shook his pitch-black mane. How he wished there was an explanation for the nightmares. Every time he went to sleep he found himself in a place he didn't know. A place that was dead. The grass was dead and the stench of death and blood entered his nose, making him gag. Dried blood covered the grass, and bones… For miles around bones were scattered all over. What kind he didn't know. In that place he would run, calling out, "Hello! Is anyone here?" But there was no reply, just a wind.

His ears flickered, his whiskers twitched, and he yawned again. "I should try and sleep," he said quietly.

"Dhoruba?" a voice from behind asked.

The lion turned, and for the time since waking smiled. "Kesha," he said, speaking his mate's name with soft love. He rose and was about to approach when she walked toward him. They nuzzled, Dhoruba licking his mate's cheek, Kesha laying her head on his mane. Then they pulled apart and stood together, side by side, surveying their realm.

Dhoruba looked at her out of the corner of his eye. He studied her, her light sandy brown fur. She was beautiful and her mildly dark blue eyes – a contrast of the skies color after the sun had set, before the appearance of the stars and moon… He'd been drawn to them and her the day he met her. Thinking about it brought a warm feeling to his chest and he held on to it.

Then he spoke, an ear flickering. "Jibade and Mpenzi are they…"

Kesha smiled. "They're still sleeping, as is the pride."

Dhoruba nodded and yawned. "Good, good."

She gently nudged him. "You were out here all night." It wasn't a question.

He looked down at his paws. "Yes. I… I couldn't sleep."

"You're having the dreams again?"

"Yes," he said quietly. "They're still the same. I-I'm in an unknown land and the grass is covered in blood and bones… It's all so confusing." He shivered. What does it have to do with me?

"Maybe you should talk to Ibada."

He tensed. "I… have considered that, but…" He ran his tongue over his lips. "I'm not ready."

Kesha stared at him. His almost bloodshot eyes showed her just how his body was feeling. Yet he's able to sit up… She could see that he was staring at her in confusion. She shook herself, looked back at the lands that were still being bathed in the sun's light, then turned to him again. It was a moment before she spoke.

"Dhoruba…" she started.

He turned to her. "What is it, Kesha," he asked gently, tiredly.

She caught on and formed her next words carefully. "Why don't you go to our chambers and rest?"

His light gray eyes widened. "Kesha, no, I can't. T-the guardians… they –"

She put a paw on his. "Bukua knows what to do. He always does. He'll handle their routes. And I was told yesterday that the food the hunting party brought home yesterday is more than enough to last us today and possibly tomorrow."

Realization filled his tired eyes. He knew where she was going and he shook his head. "No, Kesha. It's my job to look after the kingdom. Hubiri is coming soon to give me report."

The queen smiled warmly. The royal advisor, her late parents' majordomo, was a reliable cheetah. "Yes, I know, but you know as well as I that you can't take care of the animals' problems when you're, as Ibada would say, 'asleep on your paws'. Please Dhoruba, let me see to the animals. It's been a while since I involved myself in kingdom politics." She shrugged a little. "I don't want all the training my father gave me to go to waste."

Dhoruba opened and closed his mouth a few times, musing. "You really want me to take a day off, don't you?"

"No, I just want you to relax. Maybe you're having these nightmares because of stress."

His ears flickered and he stared at his paws, then the lands, the light of the sun shining off the grass. He nodded. "You could be right," he said softly. "Okay, I'll go to our chambers and rest for the day."

She nuzzled him. "Thank you."

He smiled. "No. Thank you for wanting to take care of things."

Kesha reached up and licked his cheek. "That's what I'm here for, Dhoruba. We're a team."

He sighed with a tired peace. "You're the best partner and queen I could ever ask for."

"Then be glad my mother only birthed me, otherwise, if she had birthed other royal lionesses, you would've had a lot of girls competing for your affection."

He touched his nose to hers. "Even if you did have sisters it wouldn't change anything. I still would've married you."

She smiled. "And my parents still would have approved."

They shared another nuzzle until a voice from behind interrupted.

"Please, Mom, Dad, not in front of the kids."

They turned around to see their son and daughter smirking. The young royals, both three years old, approached. Every time Dhoruba looked at them, seeing how their pelts were a mix of his color and that of Kesha's, how Jibade inherited his light gray eyes while Mpenzi had her mother's beautiful blue eyes, he knew deeply that was blessed to have two amazing children. His son and daughter, two other creatures he loved as much as Kesha. The three of them were his family and he would do anything to protect them.

"Good morning you two," said Kesha as she nuzzled her son.

"Morning, Mpenzi," Dhoruba purred fatherly.

Jibade gently head butted his father while Mpenzi did the same to her mother. The four royals sat near the ledge, staring at the horizon and after a while of peaceful quiet Jibade turned to his father.

"Dad, Bukua and his family have already left to patrol. They went out the back entrance and took a few lionesses with them." He looked at his mother who nodded with a smile.

"Good, that's good, Jibade," said Dhoruba. "Thank you for telling me."

The prince smiled then rose to his paws. "Shall we sit in the grass and wait for Hubiri?" he asked.

Here, Kesha addressed her son. "Jibade… your father didn't sleep very well. So you and I will be waiting for Hubiri and we'll deal with the animals."

The prince and princess exchanged glances. "Is everything okay, Dad?" asked Mpenzi.

Dhoruba looked at her. "I'm just tired, sweetheart."

She nodded.

He turned to his mate. "Are you sure?" he asked.

Kesha smiled at him. "Go and rest. The kingdom's in good care."

He licked her cheek, gave a soft smile to Jibade and Mpenzi, rose, and left. He didn't speak to the lionesses in the den, though many of them said good morning or bowed their heads to him. The darkness of the den made him feel a weight of fatigue fall heavily onto his shoulders and when he stepped into the royal chambers, his legs felt heavy and numb. But he forced himself to keep moving though his aching muscles were screaming at him to just fall on the floor and rest in the middle of the chamber. He couldn't.

Instead he trudged his way to the side wall opposite the entrance and laid down, rolling onto his left side, his back to the entrance. In a few moments his eyes closed, his breathing deepened. He forced his mind to dream not of the reoccurring nightmares, but of a time when he'd been lost and found.

When he first entered the Western Plains and his acceptance by a king changed his life.

OoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOo

Dhoruba had been born a prince, but he had chosen to live life as a rogue. The moment he stepped out of his father's kingdom he'd sworn to never look back, for doing so would bring painful memories. His life as a prince was not the most happy.

As a cub he had lived in fear of his father who was nothing more than a tyrant. As an adolescent he had tried to protect the younger cubs from his father, who would take out his anger on them and later their mothers. But when his mane started showing his father began taking him on his patrols. In the years that followed one event finally persuaded him to leave.

He wandered the wilderness for a long time. He never kept track of the days. What was the point? But in his wandering he met a few other rogues. One had beaten him for the sake of doing so.

Another was thin and had been born into his lifestyle. Proving gentle and having seen him in his beaten condition the rogue shared his food and gave him a place to rest. Dhoruba had accepted kindly, and the two departed ways the next morning. It was appropriate. Rogues didn't travel together unless they were in a coalition. Dhoruba wanted no part in one and had only come across a group one time. They'd asked him to join, he politely refused. One member didn't like his kindness and attacked. The leader saved his life and told him where he could find a grazing group of antelope. Two days later he recovered. The next day he hunted down an antelope.

He'd wandered the unknown world for days after that, being mindful of other animals who told him that the places where he'd sleep during the night were the borders of kingdoms. Animals who informed him guided him to safe shelter and advise him to leave as soon as possible before the dawn, which, of course, he did.

Days continued to pass. They seemed like nothing. Daylight would come and so would night. It was simply the natural order. Who would bother paying attention, especially in the open where living itself was a struggle, a battle.

A zebra he'd hunted on a rainy evening had kicked him in the head, preventing him from hunting that night. For a few days he'd wander with dizzy vision and would sleep out in the open because his head pounded so hard and looking for any kind of shelter proved difficult.

There was a time when he didn't eat for days, longer when he'd go without water. But a rogue's life, despite its great challenges, was better than what his life would have been if he had stayed in the kingdom he was born and raised in.

There were times when he had to fight to keep his meal, other times when he killed a lion or two because they refused to share their shelter. He'd even gone for four days without sleep and his body would grow weak from lack of food and water. But he kept wandering, searching. For what he didn't know but giving up wasn't an option. He was struggling to survive, had to fight to survive. He was tired. He was weary.

Then came a day when he stumbled on rich green grass. He was too tired to sniff the air, to smell if wherever he was walking was a land already taken. It wasn't until he heard a voice that his head, pounding from the pain of another fight he managed to survive, slowly turned toward it. It was the voice of a lion and he spoke in a loud voice that rang in Dhoruba's ears and increased the pain in his head.

"These are the lands of King Amri of the Western Plains," the lion sounded. "I, Bukua, servant of His Majesty, mark this territory to defend it in the name of the king and of our Sovereign Lord Rahimu, the Creator of all!"

The pains in his head, his stomach, and the great dryness in his parched throat grew. Dhoruba shook his head and took a step forward. He needed help. He needed food, water, and shelter. If only for a few days… He stumbled a little.

The lion spoke again, his voice commanding. "Speak, rogue," he growled. "In the name of King Amri I demand you identify yourself!"

Dhoruba swallowed, despite the pain in his parched throat. "I… I'm n-no threat," he said weakly. "H-help m-me…" Then he collapsed. Darkness closed in on him.

The lion, known as Bukua, walked upward and sniffed him. He looked him over. The intruder's ribs weren't far from showing. It looked as though he hadn't eaten in a week or longer. His mane was dirty, disheveled; his pelt looked like it needed a good grooming. Even his paws were blistered. You've been through a seriously rough time, haven't you? Bukua sighed deeply, knowing what he should do. He even knew what his king would do. You'd never turn away anyone who's in need of help, would you, Amri?

He looked around then back to the collapsed rogue male. He sighed again, shut his eyes for a moment then opened them, determined. It took a few tries, but he managed to get the unconscious lion up on his back. Thankfully his charge didn't weigh that much.

He started his trek home. The sky was covered in the light of the setting sun. Evening was fast approaching. By the time he reached the pride, everyone was eating the kill. His stomach growled, but he still had a job to finish. He met eyes with his mate and then gazed on the king who rose with a firm expression on his face, his light sandy brown colored pelt turning dark in the light of the setting sun.

When Bukua entered the den and stepped into the back cave he heard the king's voice not far behind him. "Who is this, Bukua?" the ruler asked.

Shrugging the lion off his back, watching him slip to the ground, Bukua turned and began to explain. Amri listened, an ear flickering every few moments. Once he finished Amri was silent, looking down at the unconscious lion.

"I'm sorry, Your Majesty, but he looked like he wasn't a threat. And… well, look at him, sire," the guardian finished, speaking the last word kindly.

The king did, eyeing the stranger up and down. Like his guard, Amri noticed the near seeable ribs almost poking in the visitor's side. "You did the right thing, Bukua," he said at last. "Clearly, he is no threat and looks like he hasn't eaten for a long time. Go get the shaman, and take Ajia with you. I imagine you'll want to tell her everything."

Bukua bowed. "Yes, sire…" He left, and bowed to the queen, her daughter, and son as he did.

"Amri," said Queen Malkia, "what's wrong with him?"

"A tired rogue in need of help, 'Kia," the king replied, sighing heavily. "I sent Bukua and his mate to fetch Ibada."

The four royals sat in silence, each of them staring at the strange lion. A while later Bukua returned with the shaman. Amri excused the guard and Ibada went to work.

The medium large dark brown red monkey examined the lion, putting medicinal herbs on the lion's blistered paws. Running his hands through the male's maned head he felt a large bump on the back. Keeping one hand there he chewed on an herb, spit it on the ground, dipped a leaf in it, and placed it on the bump.

Sighing and rubbing his hands on his thighs, he looked on the royals. "That's all I can do for your guest, your majesties," he said. "However, physically, I can tell you that he hasn't eaten in days, maybe weeks. He's gonna need plenty of food, water, and proper rest to get himself back into shape. I'm not sure how long it will take."

King Amri nodded. "Okay, thank you, Ibada."

The shaman bowed. "If you, anyone, or he, need anything else, send for me."

"We shall. Good evening, Ibada." When the monkey left, Amri turned to his mate. "Let's go out the back. There's something we as a family need to discuss." He exited the chamber, the queen and prince following, but the princess stayed behind, her eyes transfixed on the lion before her.

Queen Malkia turned back. "Kesha, are you coming dear?"

The young lioness looked at her. "I'd like to stay here in case he wakes up."

"Very well," said Malkia.

When she was sure they were gone, Kesha walked up a few steps, studying the lion. Despite his poor condition he was handsome. She laid down a little ways from him, facing him. Where did this lion come from? How long had he been wandering in the wild? Did he have a pride? Part of her wished he would wake up. What you must have been through, she thought. You're safe now. You can rest. I know my father. He would never turn someone in need away.

Outside on the back ledge, Amri was in deep discussion with his wife and son. At first he wasn't sure his idea would work, but Malkia, ever faithful and supportive of his feelings of responsibility to any innocent animal that entered his kingdom, was quick to agree.

"He will need some time to get his strength back," the queen said. "For all we know he probably has nowhere to go."

Amri smiled. "Taraji, what do you think?" he asked his son.

The prince of the Western Plains, bearing his father's fur color and his mother's soft light green eyes, looked down, thinking. He shook his dark brown mane a little and stared at his father. "I'm not going to lie to you Dad, I am hesitant. However… no rogue lion would say he needed help and then collapse if it wasn't true. Yeah, sure, let him stay. Maybe something good could come of it."

The king's eyes shined with pride. He also knew that Kesha, his daughter and heiress, would say the same. She wouldn't believe that this rogue, once he was healthy, could pose a threat to any of them. That was Kesha, so loving and trusting. She would agree with her family. They returned to the pride where Amri informed them of the injured rogue Bukua had brought to the caves and Amri's plan to let him stay until he was healthy. No one opposed. He was the king and his responsibility was to the kingdom and those who lived in it, even strangers passed out on the borders.

When late evening fell, the strange lion woke up, groaning softly. He opened his eyes only to see a paw a few steps away. He blinked a few times and heard a female voice.

"Oh, good, you're awake."

He groaned again and tried to raise his head. The movement was painful but he managed. "What happened? Where am I?"

"You're in my pride's den, in a spare cave. A guardian named Bukua found you passed out on the border."

Bukua… The name sounded familiar, but how did he get… Then it came to him, almost. He hadn't eaten in so long and seeing the rich grass he knew he was walking in a land already taken. But he'd known he needed help. He'd heard a voice, heard a name, a rank, the name of the king, what the land was called… He shut his eyes. "Bukua," he said softly.

The female spoke again. "Yes, that's the guardian's name. My father is the king here. Our shaman already looked you over. He managed to take care of your wounds, including a pretty bad bump on the back of your head. You should be okay in time."

He managed to take all this in, even though it hurt to do so. He glanced down at his paws, his brow furrowing. Why were they covered in large leaves? Then he remembered how his paws had ached for the longest time. Not even licking them soothed the pain. Whatever the shaman soaked the leaves in there was hardly any pain. Oh, sweet, sweet relief!

He looked up at the lioness again and was awestruck. She was the daughter of the king. And she was beautiful, probably the most beautiful lioness he had ever seen in his life. Her fur was a lovely light brown sandy color and her eyes were an early evening blue. Despite his still tiredness he was mesmerized by her. Then he looked away.

"Your guard said that your father's name is Amri."

The lioness nodded. "Yes, that's right."

"And these lands are the Western Plains."

"Correct."

He yawned. "I'm sorry. Still tired, I guess."

"It's okay. You can go to sleep. If it's all right with you, sir, I'll stay here and keep an eye on you."

He glared at her. "I'm not dangerous."

"I know, but given what you've suffered out there, away from the safety of a kingdom…"

"Gonna baby-sit me, huh?" He managed a small but painful smile.

"If I were I'd be telling you in no uncertain terms to sleep, but I won't."

"Much appreciated, miss."

She also smiled. "You'd best try to rest. You need it."

"You're right, I do. And if you've been watching me all night, you do too, my lady."

"What's your name?"

"It's Dhoruba, ma'am."

"No need to call me ma'am, it's too formal."

"Okay. What's your name?"

"I am Kesha, princess and heir of the Western Plains."

He would have bowed his head in respect if it didn't hurt so much. "It's an honor, Princess."

"Just call me Kesha, please."

He smiled again. "Very well, Kesha." Slowly, he put his head down. "How long will you stay?"

"As long as you want me to," she replied, putting her head on her paws.

His eyes closed. "Thank you." His breathing deepened as he settled into a peaceful sleep.

The next morning the rest of Kesha's family introduced themselves. He found the king, Amri, to be both gentle and wise. Amri's mate, Queen Malkia was the same. The rulers knew each other well and seemed to see eye-to-eye on the same things, especially his staying for a time. Though he'd lived as a rogue for far too long what he endured… maybe it wasn't for him. Maybe he'd found these lands for a reason. Maybe the kingdom's guardianship could use another. But that was thinking way too fast. He hadn't even been in the Plains a day!

Prince Taraji, Kesha's twin brother looked hesitant, but Dhoruba assured him he would abide by the kingdom's laws, respect the royal family and help however he could once his strength returned. The answer pleased the prince and he was welcomed into the kingdom.

For three days he took it easy and Kesha continued to stay with him, to which he didn't mind. The only time she would leave for long periods was when she joined her father on his walks through the kingdom. He wondered about her and what in the world possessed her to want to watch over him. In spite of the fact that they barely knew each other, Dhoruba found her company very pleasant.

When the shaman came in to check his wounds on the fourth day, Dhoruba told the monkey how he had gotten them.

"You have a lot of courage in you to fight for survival, sir," said Ibada as he redressed the lion's blistered paws with new leaf bandages. "You didn't have a choice, I know. It's a miracle you found these lands when you did." He then peeled back the leaf bandage on the back of Dhoruba's head and replaced it with another. "That wound is the gravest. If it had gone any longer without a shaman's medical attention…" He paused. "You would have suffered far more than a concussion."

"Oh. Well, thank you… for everything."

Ibada put a hand on his shoulder. "I'm a shaman. It's my job. You continue to rest. No walking too far for a while, other than to take of nature's business, okay?"

"I understand. Thank you, Ibada."

The shaman smiled and left.

That night, after Dhoruba ate his part of the kill, a part he'd shared with the princess who was still watching over him and sleeping a few feet away, he let out a deep sigh. His head still hurt, his paws too, but the food was good, the water tasty and refreshing, even if it was from a gourd brought by the shaman when he was checked the first day. In the quiet darkness Dhoruba wondered how long it would be before he could get up, walk around, and explore these lands. He had no doubt that the Western Plains kingdom was huge. Most were, his homeland included.

As much as he wanted to learn just how the pride lived, he also wanted to help. The guardian Bukua had saved his life. King Amri offered him sanctuary and parts of the morning and evening meal. And he was still a stranger to them but he no longer felt that way. He felt like part of the pride. Maybe he was. He found himself hoping.

As he looked around the cave, his eyes stopping once again on Princess Kesha he knew, that once he was fully well, he would not want to leave. Even now, he didn't. He wanted to stay, thinking he had some kind of purpose.

Maybe they could use another guardian, he thought to himself.

With that same thought he finally slept.

In time his wounds healed and he told King Amri he wanted to stay in the Western Plains. The leader and his mate gladly accepted. He knew he had done the right thing, and as the months passed he fell in love with Princess Kesha. A part of him had known he would. And he was glad.

His life was finally good. He could put the past behind him permanently.

OoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOo

When Dhoruba opened his eyes he saw nothing but the walls of the cave, the royal chambers. He picked up his head and slowly rolled onto his stomach. He wasn't sure whether it was still daylight outside, but he pushed the question away. He blinked his eyes and sighed, feeling better than he had before. Dreaming about how he came to the Western Plains and how he met his beloved mate gave him a sense of peace. It felt good to dream something wonderful for a change.

Dhoruba got to his paws and stretched, shaking his mane. Then he looked around the chamber. No one was there, except him. He yawned, shook his head and walked to the entrance, his legs a little numb. When he stepped out into the main den, the lionesses were talking softly. He noticed everyone eating pieces of meat. His stomach growled. He was hungry.

I slept longer than I thought. Just as well. I needed it.

"Your Majesty," said a lioness near the den's opening, "is everything okay?"

Dhoruba looked at her, seeing concern in her eyes. He smiled. "Yes, thank you." He looked at the pride again. Everyone looked content. "The hunting party," he said, turning back to the lioness, "did everyone –"

"They're okay, yes, sir."

He nodded. "Excellent." He dipped his head. "Good evening." He proceeded out of the den until the lioness called from behind. He turned.

"Sire, you'll find the queen in the grass on the southern side, at the first waterhole you see."

Dhoruba smiled gratefully. "Thank you."

The lioness bowed, smiled, and returned to the others.

Outside, Dhoruba looked at the sky. The sun was sinking, the lands bathed in the light of the sunset. He breathed a sigh of peace, knowing sleep, but the dream, had done him good. Sniffing the air he started running to the southern side. He loved running, especially through his lands. He felt free, calm, and he was certain that the setting sun was turning his medium gray brown body dark. There were no animals, at least none that he could see and he had to wonder how they reacted to meeting with the queen instead of him.

After a while he stopped and sniffed the air again, looking about, his whiskers twitching. Then he saw it – the first waterhole on that side. It was large, with a few trees around, providing shade. Two good-sized rock ledges provided extra rest and relaxation. One lay just ahead of him, the ledge itself jutting out over the water, the other ledge on the opposite side was the same. His eyes scanned the area until he saw her. Her light sandy brown fur showed an almost red color in the sunset's light.

He smiled, approached and bowed. "Good evening, my lady."

Kesha looked at him and dipped her head. "Good evening, my lord."

He lay down beside her. "One of the lionesses said you were out here. Where are Jibade and Mpenzi?"

The queen's right ear flickered. "They're with Bukua and Ajia's kids." She laughed. "Although I shouldn't call them that because they're not kids anymore. Ours aren't either."

Dhoruba chuckled. "In many ways it seems only yesterday that all five of them were playing in the grasses near the caves, doesn't it?"

Kesha smiled and nudged him. "Yes it does, but they're growing is part of the balance." She paused. "How did you sleep?"

He nuzzled her, murmuring, "I slept well, very well."

She licked his cheek. "No nightmares?"

"No." He pulled away and stared ahead, studying the lands. "How was everything?" he asked, his tail tapping gently at his side.

Kesha followed his gaze. "A few disputes, nothing serious. The zebras and antelopes were complaining over the lack of grass on the eastern side."

Dhoruba shook his head. "I should have settled that yesterday. I wish they would understand that just because you and I rule, it doesn't mean we control the weather. Rahimu does and He'll give us rain when he feels the lands are ready for it."

Kesha nodded. "Everything works in His time, not ours." A sad smile crossed her lips. "I remember my father telling me that. He used to say that Rahimu's ways are not ours ways and that He doesn't do things according to our schedule but His."

"Amri was a wise lion, probably the wisest I ever knew."

She leaned close to him, her head against his mane. "He loved you, you know, my mother too. They loved you like a son."

"And I loved them like parents." His ears went back. "Their kindness made me forget the way my own parents treated me."

Without speaking Kesha licked his cheek.

He purred and licked her back, smiling peacefully. "Shall we eat?"

She pushed the meat, an antelope leg, over to him with a paw. "I wasn't sure if you'd be really hungry, or if you had already eaten, but–"

"No, I haven't, and I'm not sure I couldn't eat even part of a whole carcass tonight. This leg will do just fine. Thank you."

"You're welcome."

They started eating, the cool air blowing around them. By the time they finished the stars were out, shining brightly.

Dhoruba looked down at the bone and laid his paw on it. Then he looked at Kesha, smiling again. "That was wonderful and quite filling."

"I'm glad," Kesha replied, grooming her face with a paw.

He yawned, suddenly tired. "Are you… ready to go home?"

She rose and shook the grass from her fur. "Are you?"

He stood with a coy smile. "Shall we, my queen?"

They started their walk home, Kesha laying her head against his mane for a long time. Then they raced, laughing throughout. Reaching the den, they carefully stepped over the lionesses and entered their chambers, noticing their son and daughter at the back, sleeping a few feet from each other. The king and queen shared a smile, seeing the sight, and then settled down at the side wall.

Kesha laid down first, then Dhoruba. "If you have any nightmares, wake me up," she whispered.

"I will." He licked her cheek, nuzzling it with his nose. "Sleep well, Kesha."

She licked the side of his face and put a paw on his. "You do the same, my love."

They put their heads down, their breathing deepened.

As he feared, Dhoruba dreamed about a land, the smell of blood lingering in the air, the ground covered with the bones of animals, the trees devoid of leaves, the waterholes barely full, some almost empty. The whole scene frightened him and he whimpered in his sleep. Kesha must have heard because he felt her lay her head on his mane, purring softly to calm him.

His whimpering stopped and he relaxed. Like before, that morning, he forced his mind to dream something pleasant, but somewhere in the back of his mind, the images of the bone-covered land lingered. He wasn't sure, but he could swear that along with the images he also heard screams of torment and cries sorrow.

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Author's Note: All right people, that's this chapter. I hope it was to your liking. My next chapter should be up fairly soon. I cannot promise as this week is gonna be tough for me, but I'll do what I can. Take care!

Name Translations: Dhoruba 'Storm', Ibada 'Service', Kesha 'Stay Awake', Hubiri 'Report', Jibade 'Royalty', Mpenzi 'Sweetheart', Bukua 'Discover', Amri 'Responsible', Ajia 'Swift', Malkia 'Queen', and Taraji means 'Be Confident'