"And yet that's precisely how it works."
Kion stared morosely at the abandoned wildebeest corpses. The surviving wildebeests all watched him from a safe distance, still huddled together in fear as they waited to see what he would do. Wildebeests had no ritual for their dead, but perhaps he could cover their bodies in leaves or something. It seemed wrong to just let them lie there, somehow.
Fuli scraped her throat, seeming to sense his thoughts. "I know you don't want to hear this, but…"
He maintained his gaze. "We're not eating the wildebeests, Fuli."
"If I don't eat the dead now, I'll have to catch another one later." She tilted his chin towards her with a spotted paw, forcing him to look her in the eye. "Is that what you want?"
He stared at her, but there was no coldness in those green eyes, nor any sign of cruelty. He was not sure why he had expected any – after all, he was no different from her. In fact, thinking about it in purely logical terms, she was the kinder of the two.
"Do what you want," he mumbled. "I'm not hungry."
He walked back in the direction they came from, though he did not really know where to go. If they left, would the hyenas come back again? If they stayed, would their enemies strike elsewhere? Most likely they would be content with what they had and would not risk it – would not risk Kion's wrath – but there really was no way to be sure, and no sure way to prevent it.
He stopped in front of the wildebeest leader. "I am very sorry for your loss," he said, bowing his head. "We'll do better in the future." How, he did not know. He left before they could give a reply.
"Hey, Kion." Beshti jogged up to him, kicking up dust as he went. "Are you okay?"
"I'm fine, Beshti." He sighed. "Or not really, but what's it matter? Those wildebeests are not coming back to life."
Beshti gave him a reassuring smile. "My dad always says that when life kicks you down, you just need to kick yourself back up. We'll do better next time, Kion! I'm sure of it." Coming from anyone else, those words would have rang hollow, but hearing it from Beshti almost made Kion believe it.
"Thanks, Beshti." He tried his best to smile, and felt a little better for doing so.
Bunga and Ono followed suite, no longer pretending to be part of the background. "Don't worry about it, Kion." Bunga gave him what was probably meant to be a friendly pat on the shoulder. "You can't win them all. Zuka Zama, am I right?"
"We'll think of a new strategy," said Ono, ignoring Bunga. "Some way to scout the Hyenas out in advance. Maybe we could set up a line of sentries along the border, so we can get an early warning? I know some avian friends of mine who could help."
"That's a good idea," said Kion. "We should try that." He turned and headed towards the nearest hill. "I need some time to think. I'll see you guys at Pride Rock, all right?"
"Uh, sure," said Ono. "Talk to you later then, I guess."
Kion kept moving. He brushed past the bushes and underneath the brightly flowering acacias, and continued climbing until he reached the top of the grassy knoll. He stared up at the sky, which was blue but for a smattering of pale white clouds.
"Father said that this mark would let me talk to the Kings of the Past," he said, indicating the paw print on his shoulder. "I sure could use some heavenly wisdom right about now, if you have any on offer."
But the trees and the grass and the clouds were all silent, and the songbirds that were chirping in the valley below paid him no heed. If there were any spirits, they were not the talkative kind.
"Of course, Simba couldn't talk to grandfather whenever he wanted either. It would be nice if it were that easy: We could go with Ono's plan, only instead of birds we'd have giant lion heads in the sky to tell us when we're about to be attacked." He laughed bitterly. And then lightning would strike down from the heavens, vaporising our enemies with pinpoint precision… Or better yet, they would shine a golden light so that all across the Outlands flowers would bloom, yielding such succulent and nourishing fruit that no carnivore would ever long for meat again.
"They say you gave me this Roar as a gift," he accused, first at the clouds and then the sun as well. "But what's the point if I can't control it? Why entrust the power to me only to unleash it without my say-so?" Being able to command the elements and call down rain seemed like it would be a boon to the whole Pridelands, but it was worse than useless if he could not make it stop. "What's the point of being leader of the Lion Guard, when everyone in the Pridelands fears us – when we're their greatest threat?"
There was a gust of wind that blew forest debris along in its wake, and Kion flinched as a large leaf struck his snout. In the time it took him to shake it off, he heard the barest whisper on the wind:
"…seek me out…"
Kion recoiled. He was half-tempted to tell himself he had only imagined it, but no: That had definitely been a voice, and not of any living creature either. He supposed that after everything his father had told him, he should not really be so shocked, but still. One of the Kings of the Past had talked to him.
Of course, they wouldn't be spirits if they weren't infuriatingly cryptic in their communications.
Kion stayed and listened a while longer, just in case.
It was already twilight by the time he made it back to Pride Rock, and the evening stars were taking first watch in the sky. Kion opted to enter through the Guard's secret passage hidden between two folds in the rock, brushing aside the curtain of vines to do so. As he walked through the narrow tunnel, the sound of laughter informed him of his friends' presence well before he could see them.
The guardsmen had all found their new favourite places: Fuli rested on top of an overhanging slab with clear view of the others, one paw hanging loosely down the side as she surveyed her domain. Bunga and Beshti were in the water, splashing and shouting, while Ono nested in a corner amongst the stalactites, impossible for any of them to reach. Every one of them was illuminated by the pale moonlight pouring down through the giant, gaping chasm that split the roof of Pride Rock in two.
Bunga and Beshti were the first to notice him. "Hey, it's Kion! Kion's back, everybody!"
Ono swooped down, nearly crashing in his haste to land. "Kion! Did you have time to consider my idea? What do you think?" He stopped himself, abashed. "Oh, and uh, are you doing okay?"
He laughed. "I'm fine, Ono." He smiled. "I was thinking that we could use a two-tiered approach, with birds scouting at intermittent intervals and then maybe some hippos or rhinos stationed near the border to act as a rapid response unit. If we plan it right, the Guard itself will barely even be necessary."
"Makes sense," said Ono. "Of course, uh, we will have to offer them something in return. Since most animals do have other things that they, ah, do. During the day. And evening, I guess."
"Seriously? They're demanding to be paid for protecting their own border?" He shook his head, feeling too tired to be truly angry. "We'll tell them they'll be fulfilling the wishes of the king by protecting the Pridelands from harm – and that he'll take special note of their service." He would have to discuss even that much with his father beforehand, for all that the assurance meant nothing. Bloody politics...
"I saved you some meat," said Fuli, as she leaped down from her plateau. She did not look very hopeful.
"Thanks Fuli, but that's okay." He turned to the exit, which lead up to the Royal Den. That exit had not been there before, his mother once told him, but the fight between Scar and Ahadi had been so devastating that it had opened up new passages and closed old ones. "I need to go talk to my family."
The rift in the rock made for a cramped and awkward passage, but it served. He arrived at the entrance of the den, which was much darker for the lack of a hole in the roof, but thankfully a bit cooler as well. No sooner did he enter or a young lioness rose up from the royal dais and bounded towards him.
"Hey Kion! Did you hear the big news? Father is finally going to let me go hunt by myself, away from the rest of the pride. He is so doting, I swear, it's ridiculous."
He smiled despite himself. "Hey Kiara. Hunting, huh? Isn't that a bit… bloody?"
She rolled her eyes. "Now don't you start! Why does everyone keep acting like I need to be protected? I'm the older sister, after all – I'm the one that's going to be queen someday!" She paused a second before smirking at him. "Or is that what this is about? Don't tell me you're jealous of me, little brother."
He laughed. "I suppose I could use a vacation – doing nothing of importance for a while would be nice."
She tried to tackle him, but he neatly sidestepped her: There was no denying her keen senses on the trail, but in combat she was no match for him.
Leaving his sister lying in the dust, he advanced towards the dais where his parents rested. "I'm back. Mum, dad."
His mother smiled warmly at him. "Hello Kion. We already finished dinner, but there's still some leftovers if you're hungry." Nala always sounded a bit hoarse, which he would have liked to ascribe to her command over the huntresses, but bellowing orders was not quite her leadership style. The alternative, that it was the result of raising two screaming children, he quickly rejected.
"That's okay mum, thanks. Hey dad, could I talk to you for a second? I need your advice on something."
There was a snort behind him. "…and now he's acting all important. Leader of the Lion Guard. Pfwah."
"Of course son," his father said, rising up from the dais. "Let's take a walk." The two of them exited through the main entrance to the den, and were greeted by a warm evening breeze as they did so. "Is this about what happened during your patrol? Ono told me about the attack."
"Yeah." Kion was not sure how he felt about Ono reporting directly to his father, but he supposed that an attack by hyenas was something that had to be communicated immediately. "The Hyenas had this leader, Janja… we've had trouble with him before, haven't we? He said that there isn't enough food for them in the Outlands, and that forcing them to stay there is a death sentence. Is that true?"
"I wouldn't take anything Janja says too seriously," Simba said, though the line burned into his forehead made it look as though he did. "He and his hyenas have been known to kill for sport when they're able."
Kion frowned. While evil, that did not necessarily mean they had enough food at other times. "So then why are they there in the first place? Because we used to be at war with hyenas? Dad, it seems wrong to tell a whole species that they can't live here just because of something their ancestors did, long ago."
"And yet that's precisely how it works." The king shook his head, his crimson mane blowing gently with the breeze as he moved. "Children always benefit or suffer as a result of their parentage, depending on whether they're raised well or neglected – and we love our family even if we know them to be wrong. You are after all a prince and your sister a princess, as a direct result of the actions of our forefathers. Do you deny it?"
Kion hesitated. "No, but-"
"You can't, because to deny them would be to deny yourself. Their legacy is more than just history: It is an integral part of who we are. You could no more change that than you could change the fact that you're a lion." They walked along the ledge leading towards the back of Pride Rock, where the Lionesses gathered. While their home was bleak and foreboding from the front, the rear was much more gently sloped and covered in lush trees and plants. "You cannot have it both ways. You either accept both the good and the ill of your ancestors, or you denounce them entirely – and the hyenas never did the latter. Of course, if they showed any sign of being able to change I would be willing to give them a chance here in the Pridelands. But even your granduncle was never able to make that happen."
They stopped at a small knoll at the centre of the slope leading downwards, underneath an overhanging canopy of sweet-smelling acacia's. The starlight shining down coated the leaves with a silver sheen.
"I want to try to talk with them," Kion said at last. "Dad, I want to lead an expedition to the Outlands. Just me and the Guard. It has to be possible to reach some kind of understanding with them, somehow."
His father nodded. "It's good that you feel that way, though you shouldn't get your hopes up too much. Peace is never as easy to achieve as it should be." He hesitated a moment, and coughed. "And ah, I wouldn't take Bunga with you when you go."
Kion laughed. "He's not going to like that, since he's the one that's been saying we should go there from the start. But then, I guess that's the reason why."
"Quite. Diplomacy tends to require a more… sensitive approach." King Simba crouched down on the knoll, and gave him an appraising look. "That's not all you came here to talk to me about though, is it?"
"No." He sat down next to his father, gazing at the stars that peaked out from between the leaves. "Dad… I used the Roar without meaning to. I guess I was angry, or – I don't know what it was, but it just happened. I went to try and talk to the Spirit Kings like you taught me, and… I got an answer."
Simba stared at him for a long time, his own scorched markings glinting in the starlight. "Son, you need to be very careful, from now on. I won't ask you what you heard, but… remember that not all the Spirit Kings have your best interests in mind. The first time I used that power against Scar, King Ahadi possessed me and injured me the way you see now. Keep your ears open, but don't trust them blindly."
Kion nodded. It was no more than what he had expected to hear, but he still needed to hear it.
After a while the two of them headed back to the royal den, as it was now well and truly night. His father lay down on the dais next to his mother and sister. After hesitating a second, Kion joined them on his mother's side.
"Mum?"
She stirred faintly. "Yes Kion?"
"How do you do it? How do you hunt animals that eat, sleep, and speak just as we do?"
It was silent for a while as Kion stared into the darkness of the cave, with no more to listen to than the soft breathing of his family and the other lionesses that slept further down the den.
"You just do," she whispered. "You sneak up and pounce on them before they get the chance to scream. And whatever you do, you don't let them talk."