Firstly, the review responses

I decided to be a little more full with the responses, and took a full day after writing the chapter, to do the responses. And since it makes up over a thousand words, I think you'll like them!

Hopefully, we can get some good discussions going!

I encourage you to discuss among yourselves what you think is going to happen..:

LoveNeverDies8: They'll be meeting soon! Both the two Pridelander groups, and the Shai'tan's forces. Planned for this book is a major confrontation, and while it won't be the final battle, it will have huge ramifications for the rest of the book... But that is getting ahead of myself, and giving away spoilers! Don't want that!

Sometimes, when I write the characters, I have to write the character first, and then I figure out the character's deeper mental motivations later on. A lot of Ras and Rei was figured out after their introduction, and I don't quite know how Jahi will go yet. I think he was a good cheetah, but also a weak one. Like there are many men and women in the world right now, who are basically good people, and yet, they will not call out injustices, for one reason or another. Perhaps, like Jahi, they think that their silence will keep the people they are responsible for safer.

But as the old saying goes, all that is needed for the Triumph of Evil, is for Good to do nothing. That is Kiava – and Danyal's greatest challenge right now... Convincing people that they can and should do something.

I agree that Danyal is changing. He is, in some respects, my favourite character, although I do like showing Kiava's development, I feel that Danyal's in non-linear. Everyone knows where Kiava should end up. We know his goals and his roles and his quest. Danyal is a bit more of an enigma. He has no family, no ghosts urging him, and no thing to guide him. He isn't some prized leader, or heir. He is just Danyal – and that makes his development, more interesting to write. Since he doesn't know where he is going, or what his eventual end point is.

Lord of Beef Dip:

Danyal I think is doing a good job. I wonder, what will happen if he ends up doing a better job than Kiava? Hmm? I wonder what situations that will create...

You are optimistic with the way it could resolve. Of course, he Danyal mucks up between now and the eventual meeting with Kiava (As you think likley to happen) he might be able to explain it... But there are ways it could backfire of course. What will happen if both end up in the same place at the same time? Or if one is captured?

Danyal is also feeling very guilty over the deception, which, combined with his inherent self-esteem issues (rooted in his lack of a family. Notice how Kiava, Inti, Sara and Zuri all had parental figures during the first days of the exile, while he had none. Combine also with the amount of time he has tried to sacrifice his life for "the greater good") means that the only one convinced he would make a terrible king is himself!

Its interesting how you have seemed to side with the conspiracy, rather than against. I wondered if any readers would take sides against, and insist it was a bad idea...

For the Imperium itself to erupt into civil war, would be... interesting. Of course, in some parts of the world, the Imperium (in some form or the other) has ruled for centuries... In other parts, as Castella pointed out, the locals are benefiting from the social changes. Would it really be a good thing for it to disintegrate? Babylonia, Eygpt, Troy, Greece, Selucia, Carthage, Rome. Once the centre of the world... Now? Their empires are dust. And today... The fall of the Ottoman, the British Empire, the Third Reich and the USSR have all but collapsed. The Age of Empires is well and truly over.

But, while the destruction of the USSR, and Nazi Germany is rightly heralded as a victory for democracy, and the triumph of Good, think of what happened to Britain after the fall of the Roman Empire. The destruction of the Ottoman Empire (And the fragmentation of the remaining countries) lead to religious and cultural sectarianism that plagues the world to this day, and the collapse of the antique nations, only lead to the rise of the next, even bigger Imperium, or to the cultural decline that lasted a millennia, and the birth of the dark ages.

Take a moment to wonder... Do you want a civil war, across the entire Imperium? Warring Shaman across seven continents? How many would die in the fires, if the Imperium was to burn?

Given your thoughts on how one must sometimes make a choice between two poor decisions, you might want to think on that. Which is the lesser evil?

But enough of my musings there.

You see Danyal as the opposite to Kiava? Interesting. In some was they are very alike... but in others, they are indeed opposites. That is a good spot.

Sandydragon:

So glad you enjoyed it!

I am rather fond of that chapter in particular, but I am also very proud of this one, and I think this one is one of the best ones so far. Its more action packed, while the last was much more subdued, so I'd be interested to here your thoughts on this in comparison.

Koron has some more development in the words, have no fear of that. His is a difficult character to right. I don't want to fall into potentially offensive "Emo" stereotypes and cliches, as being the darker cub, who falls into solitude and brooding.

Vitani equally, I don't want people to hate. But you are right. She can't resist taking charge, being used to it for so long. She is used to being responsible, and sees herself as responsible for everyone, even if it means protecting them (what she sees) as their own mistakes.

Danyal, remains an awesome character. I get what you mean over subtlety over bluntness. There will be more subtle digs, but this was the turning point for him, and for Vitani. I wanted it to be a clear departure point from his previous role. It was meant to stand out – though I do see what you mean. I might tone down some of the more obvious action from now on in light of that.

Thanks for the kind words! You'll see more of Calin now, don't you worry! I have big plans for him in the future!

I hope you will enjoy the rest of what I have planned!

Before we get started, I just wanted to say, I hope everyone is feeling well, and you are all happy and healthy.

I hope you are all having a good time, and that you enjoy this chapter!

Chapter 9: The Thrill of the Hunt

Beyond the borders of the Pridelands, far to the north of the borders of Kiava's Kingdom, deep in the depths of the Shadowlands themselves, Kiava was also hunting. Though he had know way of knowing it, he ran as Koron and Inti had done, days before. But his prey was no Zebra or Impala. Nor did he hunt alone. He moved through the greying plains as part of a pack.

Either side of him, he was aware of the presence of other forms, not always seeing, or even smelling them. Only occasionally would he spot their shadowy shapes, but he was constantly aware of their presence nevertheless. It was a peculiar thing, to hunt as pack, to function as a group rather than as an individual, and it was not altogether unpleasant.

Asante lead the pack of course, as was her right. That had never been questioned. Kiava was merely serving as a part of it, though he was now leading one of the flanks.

He could smell them... their prey. The foe they hunted. Wilddog. He could taste it on the edge of his tongue, along with a familiar tang of emotion.

That was the other odd thing about hunting as pack. At the peak of his physical prowess, while one with the hunt, focused only on his prey, his senses became heightened, his physical capabilities increased. It was the burst of strength that let a pack of Hyena's threaten a lioness. The same strength that let him overpower and defeat his foes.

And it let him taste emotion.

He could feel it ahead of him. Fear. A dash of anger, but fear remained the greatest of the emotions that assaulted his senses. He powered through it. It could not distract him now. Not now.

Suddenly the pack broke away from the main routes they had been following. He hadn't picked up on the scent changing direction, but someone had, and now he moved with the pack. Sure enough, a moment later, he could sense his prey shift, divert, attempting to shake their pursuers. A failing.

Then, in a single moment, he was not relying on such instincts anymore. He aware that ahead of him, moving in and out of sight, were the physical shapes of the creatures he hunted. Wilddog.

Servants of the Shai'tan.

Giving a cry of anger, he forced his body to move faster, pushing it harder, making himself stronger and pounding away at the ground beneath his paws. He would feel sore for it later he knew, but now it gave him another burst of strength! The strength to attack. To fight. And to kill.

Then he found himself outpacing the hyena's around him.

Then they struck.

Asante struck first, leaping forwards, and snapping tightly around the rear legs of the slowest of their prey. There was no inelegant snapping or yappering. She dived once, leaping like an arrow and the latching on tight to an extrema in a single bound. That was why she was Pack-Leader.

He followed suit, striking not with his jaws, as a Hyena might, but with his claws, using their hooked ends to drag his opponent down to the ground. Both Asante and Kiava carved into their prey, spilling blood into the air. Then his jaws slammed forwards, searing into the prey's flank, crushing and slicing a huge fillet of flesh from its side. The bleeding began in earnest and it filled his gullet with a familiar metallic tang, a warm flow of viscous liquid, like syrup and then, like a great burst of light within him, he let go and he had moved once more, letting go of any conscious thought. He didn't need to think about killing the dogs, it was like muscle memory. There was a way it should go, and he didn't resist it, moving with ease onto his next target.

Now the Wilddogs had faltered, and almost given up the chase. They were prepared to fight. One turned, barked aloud to his companions some command Kiava didn't hear, nor care to listen to.

And the realness of the situation slammed into Kiava. And the thrill hadfelt, left him at once.

The Chase was over. The Hunt was done. Now came the Fight.

Suddenly, he was not Pack. He was Kiava. Kiava, a single lion. He growled as loudly as he could, and several of the dogs answered his shout, running towards him, teeth bared, claws showing, howling and rushing to meet his charge head on with equal speed and force. The first dog met him at full run, and had been aiming to dash past him and bite into him at the spine.

It was a deadly tactic if successful, but it remained heavily dependent on the speed and accuracy of its user.

Sarafina had taught him to avoid it by arcing his body, and so he let his rear limbs catch up with his front, letting them slide ahead of him as he arched his body in mid-air, slamming them into the ground even as they hit the dusted floor, propelling him sideways into the dogs new path in an instant. Suddenly, his attacked back was now safely protected by row and row of teeth and the sharpened edges of his claws, which he unleashed now and racked at the unfortunate dog's face, cutting deep and spilling more blood high into the air, shining scarlet.

Kiava bit forwards again, into the unprotected neck, tightening around the creatures throat and jerking his head sharply. It should have snapped its neck instantly, giving it a painless and quick death. Instead, his younger teeth slashed into his throat, but it wasn't powerful enough to sever the neck as the creature instinctively pulled away. It flailed on the ground as it collapsed, chocking, wheezing, drowning.

But Kiava had moved on, aware though he was of the sloppy kill, he paid it no mind. The dog would either bleed out, or drown on its own blood. He couldn't spare another thought on it today. Maybe another day he would. Maybe later this day, if he survived, but if he meant to survive, he could not afford to do so now, because there was a third target; One who was attacking him without hesitation and was even now leaping towards him, striking with his claws. Kiava danced out of the way, but a raging pain was sent spiralling down his back. He had lost sight of the rest of the battle and as soon as he had turned his back, another dog had homed in on the exposed area, slashing and biting at his back with such terrible ferocity, it threatened to overwhelm him.

"Kiava!" Zuri shouted in surprise, seeing his predicament and panicked by it. Zuri. That was right. Zuri was there. He couldn't let her be distracted, she had her own battles. He turned around to the dog on his back, and slammed into it with his bleeding shoulder. It hurt him, sending more gasps of pain through him, but it stunned the dog long enough for him fight off a surprise blow from another dog, and divert his attention a moment more before it had recovered. He had coiled, muscled tightening. Then they released as Kiava span, and struck, ducking and weaving as he did so. His claws becoming scythes, his teeth blades. The wilddog, used to fighting other canines was no match. Sarafina had taught him well, and he would use every trick, every tactic, every weapon and every skill he possess now.

He was a living weapon.

And the two dogs, died.

Blood leaked slowly from a dozen wounds he couldn't remember taking, but the blood on his claws was not his own. It fell to the dust between his claws. He caught sight of Zuri again. She was moving like lightning and, as if trying to outdo him, was taking on three dogs at once. For a moment, He as breath-taking, watching her. She moved with grace and elegance he lacked. His slaughter was more precise than the effective butchery the hyenas practised, but each but she made, each blow, each bite and snap and gouge, was delivered with deadly accuracy and momentous force. He was taken aback for a moment, as she moved, ripping out the gut of one dog, and the throat of another in a single movement. The thirds turned tail and ran at seeing such ferocity. Kiava was stunned. This was no mere cub he watched. It was a lioness, pure and unrestrained, nature's most effective killer.

If this were in another time, or another place, it might have repelled him to witness such bloodshed at his age. But that age and that time and that future had been snatched away from him the day his parents had been murdered. It might have once horrified him, or at least unnerved him, but here and now, he could only wonder at her skill and speed and one day hope to match it.

Even though he now knew it to have been ruse, he yet again felt the fire within him as he thought of how Sarafina had treated her, his Zuri. She had treated him as the King, the only one of importance, and derided and mocked her for her attempts at fighting.

He was a fighter, a killer now, perhaps.

But she was, and remained the real warrior. Her blindness, though feigned, enraged him beyond measure. It was seeing someone toss aside a prized jewel, or erase some great art, purposed to be worthless.

It had only driven her to greater effort, and watching the fruits of it now, in that moment, Kiava knew that he could never hope to match her in skill. Not even if he trained for weeks at a time, sparing time only for the consumption food and water, would be able to move with such grace, such deadly precision.

If he could best her now, as Sarafina thought, it would only be by virtue of his superior bulk, his strength, or perhaps some quick thinking of scheme to give him an advantage. If it had for once come down to pure unbridled skill, he would have had no chance. She turned to him, smiling with relief to see him alive and relatively unhurt.

She made her way over to him, even as another of the depraved creatures leapt at him from some crevice or shadow. But they were coming slower, and weaker now. They were exhausted, demoralised, and fewer in numbers. The dog that attacked him was held at bay for a moment, before Zuri was on him, wrestling it to the ground, pinning it there. And Kiava saw an opening. He struck once, twice and on the third time an another dog's life was snuffed out like flame in a breeze.

They both stood there panting, side by side, the King and the Lioness, for a moment with blood and sweat merging into the sticky heat around them. It stung his eyes, he rubbed his paw across his fringe, and only succeeded in staining his mane with further crimson. The adrenaline was leaving him now, and he could form more complex thoughts.

Looking about him, Asante was surveying the last of the wilddog's fighters who still fought without surrender. There were not many left, and they had tried to flee until fighting became the only the option.

Two leapt directly at her and this time she didn't even respond with a growl or bark. Her eyes flashed white only once and with a thunderclap, a pulse of force ripped into existence before them , blasting them away from her, into the air, where they crashed into the ground and from that, did not rise again.

Kiava gave a smile. He hadn't encouraged her to use her powers in battle. They exhausted her and it would not do to collapse on the ground in the middle of conflict. Especially, if they needed to fight again in a single day. But even so, it was something to see her unleash the four winds against her foe.

Looking around, she could see no more enemies, only allies. Everyone was looking around anxiously, on edge but more or less safe. After a moment and the absence of further attacks Asante nodded and gave a loud bark.

"Victory!" She shouted, and the cry was taken up by pack. Zuri gave a whoop of celebration, as Kiava sank to the ground, in relief, finding himself exhausted.

"Thank the kings..." He whispered.

Asante moved over to him, a smirk on her face, though as Kiava was beginning to detect, held no malice. Hyenas always smirked, even when they were not mocking.

"You fought well, Princeling! Better than I had predicted at any rate! Did I count four kills?" She asked him.

"Three and a half. Zuri pinned the last one, before I killed it." Kiava said, but he was smiling. Asante shuddered.

"Yeeesh. Lions... You might stink and you sure are ugly as hell – but man can you do some killing... I myself, am sitting on six individual kills." She said.

"Is that good, do you think?" Kiava asked. Asante laughed.

"A single kill is good Kiava, if it is a servant of the Shai'tan. Hyenas don't usually count individual kills, since we hunt as a pack. We hunt as a group. No one predator is usually able to claim a sole kill. It is how we fight. But I suppose with a lion in the mix, we can start to make exceptions." She said, looking around, and slightly impressed. In all, the wilddog's force had numbered just under two dozen. Kiava would have wanted to have more hyenas with him, to at least outnumber them, but as Asante had predicted, the wilddogs were already weakened from their brutal defeat at Kiava's paws days before. Only small pockets of the canines had survived. Deserters, raiders, and others. Spies, injured or otherwise incapacitated during what was being credited as Kiava's Slaughter of the wilddogs. This had been the largest and only organised group of them left, outside of Abyss' not inconsiderable army of serpents. Kiava had requested they hunt them down first, and Shenzi had given him a pack of a ten wilddogs. Zuri and Kiava had joined to make a full dozen pack, but Kiava had refused responsibility as Pack-Leader. It was Asante's pack, and he would not hijack that from her. The wilddogs had been desperate, running right up until they had no choice but to fight.

"Did we take any casualties?" He asked her. Asante's face became serious.

"No fatalities yet. But several suffered severe wounds and I am worried about a couple who managed to become surrounded at the height of the fighting. If their wounds become infected then they could still die, they are not safe yet. I might be able to help them out after a rest. But we have had no outright deaths. We've not been so lucky for a long time." Asante said.

"Luck had nothing to do with it. We had some pretty good leaders." Bhagari pointed out as he made his way through the gore towards them, leaving bloodied pawprints as he did so. The male hyena was cheerful, despite an injury to his head sending blood down one side on his face. Asante tutted when she saw it.

"You're getting careless, Bhagari..." She chastised him. Bhagari laughed.

"This? This is nothing. I got nicked when I was distracted by the two shrieking balls of death over here. Would some like to remind me again why we spent so long at war with these freak's species?" He shuddered. "Horrible idea." He muttered.

Zuri coughed, not feeling too comfortable with the attention. If she was going to be well known, she would have liked it to be for something other than severing spines. Kiava, catching her expression moved the conversation forwards.

"Is there anything else?" He asked. Asante shrugged.

"Four dogs surrendered near the end of the fighting..."

"That optimistic of them." Bhagari noted.

She said. Kiava froze, his expression hardening.

"I'll need to speak to them." He said coldly. Asante nodded.

"I thought as much. Let the others have their rest. They are over here."

The captured dogs were not bound or held in anyway. They stood a little way off, encircled by hyenas, but looking completely defeated. Bruised, bleeding, and a fixed with looks of such complete despair, Kiava couldn't help but feel a sense of smugness as he made his way towards them. Stop it. He berated himself. Be serious.

"Stand up. You are in the presence of the True King." Asante barked. The wilddogs stood shakily to their feet with little encouragement and looked anxious, as the cub approached. Kiava's eyes narrowed. The dogs were taken aback at the sight. Amun had described a cub. A youngling, terrified, and weak. Barely beyond drinking his mother's milk. Instead, they beheld a boy, who's youth only served to make his cold demeanour more unsettling, his blood-soaked countenance looking grim. To see a fully formed Lion King hold himself as such, fully prepared to administer their death and getting closer with every step, was frightening enough a thing. To see such deadly determination in a mere child only made it worse.

The King's black mane had grown since the fall of Pride Rock and now it extended back behind his head and over the tips of his ears, pressed flat by blood and sweat. It was dripping with scarlet blood, and his bright emerald eyes blazed out of the gold and black and crimson-stained fur.

Kiava didn't need to say a word. He just stood there. Waiting. The minutes extended. Then finally, one of the dogs cautiously raised his voice.

"Um... Your... Majesty... Uhh..." Kiava fixed his gaze upon him.

"Do you know who I am?" he asked him.

"You... Are Pr-King, Kiava. Son of Kovu. The one who fights the Shai'tan." The lead wilddog asked. Kiava nodded.

"I am the one who kills them. And You just tried to kill me." He said calmly. "Actually, you have for a few days now... Do you know where that puts you? Its what we refer to as treason." He said softly. "The only reason you are still alive, is because there is a chance that you might happen to know something useful. That is all." He said. Asante grinned wickedly and her eyes blazed an unearthly white.

"Oh... Leave that to me. If they do, we'll know soon enough. Though, if screams unnerve you, you might want to stand a way away." She pointed. Kiava held up a claw.

"I am sure I would be be fine, but I am certain that they will be very cooperative." He said. None of the dogs moved. Eventually, one spoke.

"I don't know much. But I can tell you what I know..." he said.

"What are you doing?!" One hissed, elbowing him.

"You bloody fool – they'll kill you if you say a word, and if they don't the Emperor will!" The other said. The wilddog met Kiava's eyes.

"If I am dead anyway, I may as well die here. Kiava. My name isn't important. You have fought bravely. You slew Amun. That feat alone is impressive. But I have seen the Imperium. I have been through the Gateways, and seen its vastness. The Shaman came through one, not long before Asamode's attack."

"There was an Open Gateway at Amun's old encampment? Does it remain active?" Kiava asked.

"No. It was Sealed." The dog admitted. Kiava shrugged. Useless then.

"Anything else?"

"Nothing beyounf the simple fact that you can not possibly defeat Ben-Kai-Ra." He said. Kiava didn't move a muscle in his face.

"Funny. That is what Amun said. He died." he said. The dog expression didn't change.

"I say this only as a warning, not as a threat. Ben-Kai-Ra is a powerful foe. More powerful than anything the Pridelands have every faced in its history. The Shai'tan are only less so. Amun was but one of Seven. After Sekmet's death, he summoned Leviath, Raeveal, Mortread and Asamode to his side, and took personal control of the Pridelands. All of The Seven have returned to the Pridelands. You don't stand a chance against them all. Do you think I would have stayed in the Pridelands, if I thought you did?" He said. Kiava laughed, in the manner he had often seen hyenas do and the wilddogs eyes bulged, wary of the maniacal outburst, suspecting, but not knowing, that Kiava merely sought to unnerve him.

"Who knows why you dogs do anything? Is that all you have to offer us?" He asked. The wilddog sank to the ground.

"I was a grunt. I have no information that is worth my life. I merely offer a warning. I have nothing else. And that is the truth. Kill me now, or later. Torture me if you think you must, but I can offer no more." he said. The other dogs looked panicked. Was he admitting that they were useless? Asante sighed.

"And I was hoping you might have been worth sparing your lives... I do so hate killing prisoners." She said, bearing her teeth. Kiava shook his head.

"No." He said.

He glared at the dogs.

"I would consider myself a righteous king. I will not slaughter defenceless prisoners, as you would have." He said. The dogs looked about in confusion. Kiava grabbed with himself, trying to keep bound the anger burning inside him. He wanted to kill these monsters, who had sold their honour and their self respect for the sake of a few petty trinkets and meaningless platitudes.

"I will punish your treason as my father would have. You are Exiled. If you are found within the Pridelands, or their territories again, by myself, or any of mine, your lives are forfeit. Go, without deceit. And tell it to any wilddog you meet along the way. Get out. Leave. Run away and never return to these lands! Everyone single one of you who has turned their back on the Pridelands. Nowhere in the Shadowlands, the Outlands, the Pridelands, nor any of the other kingdoms under my rule, or under the rule of my allies, will be a home or haven to you!" He shouted.

"Be forgotten and abandoned, as you forgot and abandoned your loyalties; to me, and to yourselves." He decreed. And it was hard for him to do so. The act of mercy felt like weakness, yet he couldn't imagine himself conjuring within him the stomach to merely execute the survivors for their crimes.

The dogs stared at him as if he were mad. The hyena's merely looked initially perplexed but then shrugged. The dogs were defeated and no longer a threat to anyone but themselves. Let them vanish off the face of the Pridelands for all they cared. Too few in number and too weak to threaten them.

"GO!" he commanded, and the four ran for their lives, in four directions. One glanced back, as if to marvel in wonder and Kiava growled a warning, which sent it scurrying.

Asante watched them as they went. She smiled. They would spread tales of Kiava... Kiava who defeated and killed Amun and a legion of dogs alone, Kiava who hunted down the survivors and then... showed mercy. An act of compassion. It would run through the land like wildfire. Was that what he had intended? Some master-plan to bring others to his side? Somehow, Asante doubted it.

Kiava sat down once more when it was done. Zuri came up behind him and licked the blood from the side of his face. He shut his eyes for a moment, just enjoying the closeness and presence of his friends. When he opened them again, his gaze was serious again.

"I hope I didn't just screw up..." He muttered, sounding concerned. Zuri shook her head at the suggestion.

"I think... that you just did a very hard and very brave thing. And I think it was the right thing to do." She said. Kiava sighed.

"You should go get some sleep. Its a hard days march back to Skeleton Canyon tomorrow... I want us to be ready... That was the last of the wilddogs... All that leaves is Abyss and his serpents. The Snake Tribes will pose a terrible danger to use, greater than the wilddogs ever did. We have been lucky so far that Amun seized most of them for his own legion – it meant we didn't need to fight them under Rish'ut or Sekmet... But now it could end up biting us in the butt. They are all focused here. I had hoped Amun would bring them into the trap with him, but he is far too cautious to bring his entire army in a single spot... And Abyss is no fool. He is a Warlord more than a General, he fights alongside his troops, but he is powerful." Kiava said. Zuri purred. "Don't worry about that for now..." She told him. Kiava nodded.

"You are right... Again." She stood up to leave him. "Zuri?" He asked, as she turned away.

"Yes?"

"You... Were brilliant today. Really." He told her, smiling softly. She smiled back, blushing the faintest shade of pink.

"You too. Stay alive." She said. Then she moved away. Asante smiled as she went away, before sitting down next to Kiava.

"She's certainly something." She said. Kiava didn't notice her tone, so she changed the subject.

"Something has unsettled you." She told him. Kiava nodded. He was thinking back to the hunt, before the fight, where his senses had been nearly overwhelmed, and he had felt himself losing his individuality. He tried to explain it. Asante listened.

"Does it frighten you?" She asked, looking interested. Kiava shook his head.

"No. If it had made me act on my rage and lust, when I should have been thinking clearly, then maybe… But even so, it was not quite like anger. It felt, above it. Beyond anger and hatred... it was just... the hunt." he said. Asante nodded.

"I know what it is... Its normal. But we don't talk about it much." She said. Kiava looked confused, so Asante tried to explain.

"The hyenas call it the thrill, primal instinct, the hunt, or Bloodlust. Whatever you like. Most carnivores feel it to varying degrees. Not normally at your age, or mine, come to think of it. But most adults feel it. Coursing through them as they hunt, the drive, the lure of the chase, making them faster, and focused." Kiava nodded.

"It was something more than adrenaline or just a by-product of fear. It was more than that." Initially, part of it had frightened him, but as he felt its warm flow more and more, he became used to its alien touch. It felt... normal. Natural even. Primal, but not wrong. He said as much, and Asante nodded again.

"Its no more evil than desire, or fear, or anger. It is just a part of life." Asante had told him. "It can motivate one to evil, if let uncontrolled, but it is hardly a curse for you to bare, or guard for. Every hunter has it on some level... The greater the hunter, the greater the thrill. The bloodthirsty part of it, means we don't talk about it much. But any time you've seen your family lunge for a piece of a meat, scramble, powering through blood and sweat. The chase. The hunt. It's what lets the pack work together without communicating, your lionesses flank and outmanoeuvre prey, and bridges the gap between instinct and training."

"Why have I started to feel it now?" Kiava asked with relief. Asante shrugged, unconcerned.

"Everyone does, on some level. You are just more... open to it now. War and hardship will do that. Taka was uniquely gifted in that regard... I believe Zira was as well... so heaven knows what Kovu sensed when he hunted – and he did hunt, male or not, king or not, Kovu hunted. That was what made him dangerous." Asante said. Kiava nodded.

"Interesting." He said. Asante smiled.

"If you are feeling the thrill of the hunt, then it just means you are becoming a better hunter. Perhaps it was you hunting with the pack. Lions don't feel it as much because they usually hunt alone. I was watching you and Zuri today, and I think she felt it too, though she perhaps wasn't as aware of it. You've not been hunting long, have you?" She asked him. Kiava shrugged.

"Danyal taught me to hunt, days before the Pride splintered."

"And yet, you already race with the best of us. You've starting hunting as a group. If you are that open to the feelings and senses of others... well." Asante shifted. Kiava blinked.

"What?" He asked.

"Normally, it's the sort of talent you'd spot in a hyena destined to be a Pack-leader." She admitted.

"So..."

"So it bodes well for your leadership. You hunt well. And you fight well. Your technique isn't refined... and you certainly don't have the savagery you'd expect of a hyena your age... But then, you're not a hyena. I have no idea what is considered good by lion standards. " She said. "I'd be... interested... to spar with you one evening." She said. Kiava nodded, thinking to how the hyena's trained. It was a social event, witnessed by many, with others cheering or booing as the fight progressed. Perhaps it was time to try his own paw.

"I'd be honoured." He stood up. "We should get going."

"We certainly should. The hyenas aren't used to having a King... It must be time to mingle with the common folk." She said, sarcastically. Kiava laughed.

"I have never done anything like that in my life. But I will start if you will, Princess Asante." He said. Asante's eyes bulged.

"What did you just call me!?" She gasped. Kiava laughed.

"Oh you are – you know it! Your mother is the matriarch! You are going to inherit the clan!" He said. Asante scowled.

"That doesn't make me a princess, fool. Princesses are... prissy." She said lamely. Kiava stood up, wiping his blood stained paws on the ground.

"Well, then, in that case, Pack-Leader, Sir, perhaps, we should merely reconvene with the troops, and leave such pretentious nonsense to the archaic?" He suggested. Asante shuddered.

"An excellent suggestion, your majesty." She said. It was an odd thing for her to say, even now, but it didn't catch in her throat the way it used too. This was a king she could get behind. She didn't have to grovel or stoop or bow or scrape. She merely had to go where he pointed and kill things. For a Hyena, that was a fairly decent sort of king. And if, in the mean time, if he actually did some ruling, and made the place run smoothly, well, so much the better.

Far beyond the Shadowlands, to the east, a vulture spoke in a low and sombre voice. When it had begun, Ben-Kai-Ra's expression had been dark, and now, it looked thunderous.

"ARRRRRRRRAHHH!" He howled, before slamming his paw into one of the stone pillars around him. The claws sliced clean through the rock, sending sparks into the air. Anger boiled. It burst forth and howled, a tempest of anger and hatred.

Gradually it subsided. He gathered himself, and turned back the Vulture. Vultures were a disgusting creature. They were the epitome of weakness. Never hunting themselves, scavengers, like wilddog, but even they hunted occasionally. Vultures were parasites who lived off the strength of others. But they could travel at impossible heights, and great distances. Asamode stood nearby, calmly regarding the spectacle.

"So." Asamode said. "Amun is dead."

"I regret to inform you so, sire." The vulture said. Ben-Kai-Ra brimmed with anger.

"How!? He had a LEGION! I sent him to destroy the last pockets of resistance – how could he have been so incompetent!?"

"Amun wasn't a genius. He could be outsmarted by Mortread with relative ease... and outfought by Sekmet or Rish'ut on any day." Asamode said. Ben-Kai-Ra seethed.

"He was versatile. He was any other Shai'tan's equal at any other task! He was ideal for the shifting tides of battle, perfect for the unpredictable tenacity of the Hyenas! He was butchering them! What changed!"

"He might have been skilled at everything but he was a master of nothing. That was why his father hated him..." Asamode commented.

"And that hatred caused Amun murder him! I cannot believe that... No. The Fault must have been mine. I overestimated his abilities... I should have sent Raeveal in his place." He said. Asamode smirked.

"That is your daughter talking, not you. You know that Amun screwed up, he has only himself to blame for his demise. Weakness leads to death – that is the way of the Shai'tan."

"Arrogance can lead to death just as quickly. Be silent." The Emperor hissed, sounding held his tounge and the Emperor was silent for a moment. Then he turned around to face Asamode.

"Go and seek Mortread and my daughter. Tell her to proceed. Send Mortread forth. Bring Kiava before me. And tell Mortread that I no longer need this King alive. I couldn't inflict enough suffering in a single lifetime, even if I had the patience. Bring me his head! Then, Marsade can ressurect him as many times as required..." He turned to the vulture.

"Inform Abyss... Tell him..." He hesitated. "Retreat." He almost hissed the words. "Withdraw from the Shadowlands. We will stamp out the rebellion here. If Kiava is indeed here, then he is a greater thre- he is a greater priority than some rabble in the Shadowlands, even if they have defeated a Shai'tan.We shall crush the last remnants of Kovu's spawn, first. Then, I shall obliterate that kingdom and turn it into a pile of rubble. Carrocscirr will burn and the ashes will not even remember how it was ever otherwise!" He said. Asamode bowed low, his tail swishing in the air as he left.

"As you command... My Lord." Asamode said, before turning his back on the emperor, and strolled out without a further word. The vulture messenger fled the room with him, deciding the company of the Shai'tan-Lord was only slightly less terrifying than that of the Emperor.

The Emperor let them leave, his eyes almost burning holes into their backs as they left. He remained as solid as a stone for a moment. Then he withdrew a claw. The blacked tip was razor sharp, along the edges as well as at the tip. He admired it for a moment, before thrusting it into his paw without further hesitation. Immediately, blood bubbled to the surface. Crimson, but dark, almost a hint of black to his. He clenched his paw, forcing it well inside his paw tips, feeling the thrill of the pain. Then he threw it to the ground, sending the droplet spraying.

The drops stood there for a moment. Then they began to hiss, sending up coils of smoke. The blood boiled, and the air shimmered... And out of the haze, Marsade appeared. The Orangutan was gaunt, greying, and, most obviously, missing an arm. But even so, an aura of fear, no, terror, emanating from him. He hissed.

"You should not be so free with that... Any blood you use for that will never be renewed within your body. You know that! You'll be forever without those drops of blood. Lose of too much will result in... Complications.

"Amun is dead."

Marsade didn't seem surprised.

"So?" He asked

"SO!" The Emperor roared. The ground trembled, and if the vulture in the corner had remained, he would have been trying to melt in the wall out of fear. Still, it did not do to have such frivolous displays of emotional volatility.

"That is THREE of the Shai'tan dead, Marsade."

"Even if Amun didn't managed to wipe out the Hyenas, he still managed to accomplish his true mission, though he kept being distracted by lure of battle. His death will not inconvience my plans, though it might delay us, if he left the job unfinished. Pay it no heed. We should focus on the bigger picture here." Marsade said, impatiently. The Emperor was not soothed. Rather, he became enraged, and he strod towards the image of the Shaman, looking murderous and his claws fully extended into wicked knives.

"Did you not hear me? THREE, Marsade! Sekmet, Rish'ut and now Amun! Nearly half of most trusted servants!" He seethed. It was a terrifying thing to witness. His anger seemed as deep as the ocean void, and yet burst forth with such a blaze of ravenous heat, one could almost feel it. His eyes burned, blazing with a dark flame. Such power. Such hatred. The emotions of a Shai'tan became another weapon with whom to assault their foes. Mortread's, greed, Sekmet's anger. And Ben-Kai-Ra could draw upon any of them. But with no target for his anger, it merely boiled inside him, burning with a hateful glow.

"Your grasp of arithmetic is second to none..." Marsade said dryly, seemingly unconcerned by the anger of the most powerful creature in the worlds. He stood there, as if bored, picking his fingernails with the edge of the dark bladed weapon he wielded as all time now. Black smoke seemed to coil from it.

"I tire of you playing games while the real battle is fought elsewhere, Marsade. Have you found what you are seeking yet?" He asked. Marsade smiled.

"I am close... But... Not yet. This is something in which you could assist me. Asamode has been slow. He is uncooperative and has served his purpose for now... He has provided me with everything he could. But I need not remind you, that what I do is the real battle. When I succeed, it will matter not if your Kingdom spans continents, the borders of a meerkat colony." he said. The Emperor snorted.

"You would demand more of me, after this!? I recall us making a bargain. You would destroy the Pridelands; I would rule the rubble... You kill Rafiki; I take his homeland. And yet, the Shaman survives! The Kingdom survives! The King lives on, like a cockroach, that I can't stamp out!"

"Not for much longer, I fear. Or did you think that I have been idle while you play at being Emperor with your toy soliders? While Rafiki thinks me dead, I a, free to progress further with my plan – and while I progress further with my plan, you will ultimatly benefit with yours. I only ask that you are patient my old friend. You have waited this long, after all. What is a few more months?"

"SORCERER! Do you take me for a fool!?"

"Oh no! I know who and what you are, Ben-Kai-Ra. You are one of the cruellest, darkest creatures to walk this earth, but I know spirits and monsters far worse."

"Like what?"

"Like me! I am the one those creatures fear. If Amun is dead, than it is a tragedy. We are all very sad for your loss, and I offer my most heartfelt condolences. But it is a mild setback, that will mean nothing in the long run. Keep your forces. Keep your armies. Rafiki is the only person who could possibly be a threat to our plans at this point anyway and while he is focused on you he is letting me proceed with my plan."

"And how long until that progresses? As you put it? You are trying my patience, Shaman!"

"You know as well I do that this is difficult thing to accomplish covertly... If you wanted to assist in that endeavour then you could lend me Raeveal and Leviath. I can put those Shai'tan to good use, as you well know. What have they done yet? At least Amun and Rish'ut died doing something productive, rather than sitting around feasting while the Imperium remained so threatened..." He said, grinning. Ben-Kai-Ra hesitated.

"Asamode would be required to return here to command the forces of the Shai'tan. I do not want Mortread taking responsible for all of our forces. Too much power gives them... ideas... above their station." He said. Marsade shrugged.

"Trusted servants eh? As you like... When the time comes to actually battle Kiava, Or Vitani, or Rafiki or whoever it is you've decided to brutally slaughter, I can have them back with you in moments. I am a Shaman, you know. Its what I do." He pointed out. Ben-Kai-Ra nodded his head, as he reached to the ground and picked up a small rock nearby. He had used it to sharpen his claws before, and he ran them across it now. The grating noise would have sent shivers down the spine of any eavesdropper, but to the Emperor, it was soothing.

"Very well, Shaman. But do not test me. I want these lands, Marsade. I must have them – and that is essential to our plans AS WELL! Don't you forget that your schemes will come to naught if we do not complitley dominate them! I would hate to think that you did not value our deal." He said, narrowing his eyes. Marsade laughed.

"Forgive me if I appear to treat... baser... objectives with apathy... If I seem to lack of enthusiasm for such minor things as conquest, it is only because I aspire to higher things. But I gave you my word, Emperor. I would never betray it..." he said calmly. The Emperor stared at him for a moment, as if searching for deceit. Then he nodded.

"I don't care if you consider the slaughter of a kingdom a lesser aspiration. Just so long as you play your role in it and I get what I want from you..." He said, his fist closing around the rock, and crushing it to dust in his paws.

"And you shall, Emperor. And you shall... If the time comes, and it becomes necessary, I shall go forth and sweep away Kiava, Vitani, this pityfull rebellion, and every last Pridelander, personally. If it becomes necessary. Until then, I suggest you concentrate on your task, while I concentrate on mine!" The Shaman said, smiling. His teeth sowed through, more yellowed than before and overly sharp for primate. He grinned, and slashed his own hand with the dagger he bore, spilling his blood on the ground, where it ignited in a flash. It flared, and dark flame leapt up and spread out across his form. Smoke spurted and flesh hissed, and for a moment, Marsade cackled with a high cruel laugh as the flames engulfed him. Then he vanished as the flames flared and died out.

AN:

Oooh. Interesting,

Well, people, what did you think of that? Please, let me know in the reviews, and if you have any other questions, even if you've not reviewed here in the past, drop a PM and I'll get back toyou as soon as I can!

Enjoy!

Coming soon, is a chapter with a twist that will have profound implications for the rest of the book!
I hope you are looking forward to it!