Chapter 13.
This is the thirteenth chapter. Hope you enjoy it. Please review. Christmas is just around the corner, yay!
A few hours later, the sun was just about down, but there was still enough light to see. Simba and Nala climbed down from the slope, and then walked by a stream. "Did you enjoy that?" Simba asked, his hair a little bit messed up, a bit more than Nala's. "I was fun." Nala chuckled, with a tiny smile on her face. "I told you. Isn't it great here? You know, maybe it could be like this forever." Simba said. "It's amazing. But there's something I don't understand. If you've been alive all this time, why haven't you come home? We've really needed you." Nala explained, looking at Simba. "Yeah, right. Their fine, all right? Nobody needs me." Simba scoffed. "You're the king." Nala said, almost begging. "Nala, Scar is your king, or whatever he calls himself these days." Simba said back, both of them stopping. "Simba, he's decimated the Pridelands. There's no food, no water, people are flying by the minute. The land your father and grandfather staked their lives into is now a wasteland!" Nala explained. "There's nothing I can do." Simba said, as began to walk away. "What about your mother? This is your responsibility, not to mention its your destiny and birthrigth. You need to challenge Scar." Nala said seriously, as Simba stopped walking. "I can't go back. Ever." Simba said back, as he paced around in a sort of circle on the spot. "Why? Because of what happened t the gorge? Scar told us what happened…" Nala began explained, before Simba interrupted her, and turned to face her. "You would understand. None of it matters anymore, okay? Hakuna Matata." Simba said rather loudly. "What?" Nala said, looking confused. "It's something I learned out here with my friends, okay? You see, sometimes bad things happen, and there nothing you can do about it, so why worry, when you can just walk away from it?" Simba answered, rather tensely, and argumentative. "Why worry? Walk away from it?! What have these 11 years done to you? What have that Mr punk been teaching you, along with Mr fat?" Nala asked shocked, but the moment she finished, Simba rapidly moved in front of her and placed her right hand against her mouth. "We don't use the F-A-T word. It's his trigger word. And leave them out of this. This has nothing to do with them. They just helped me survive." Simba said quietly and harshly, before removing his hand.
"Sorry. But what happened to you? You're not the Simba I remember." Nala said. "And I never will be. Are you satisfied?" Simba asked, as he turned around and started walking away from her. "No. I'm disappointed." Nala answered, as Simba stopped again, and turned his head around to face her. "You know, now you're starting to sound like my father." Simba said. "Good. I'm glad one of us is." Nala said back. Simba then clenched his hands into fists and turned his whole-body round to face her. "You have no idea what I've been through!" Simba almost shouted, looking angry. "I came here looking for help. I guess I made a mistake. Goodbye, Simba." Nala said before turning around and starting to walk away. "Fine! Just go back home to your mother!" Simba cried rudely at her. This made Nala stop in her tracks. She tuned around to face him, now looking angry. "I can't! You know why?! Cause she's dead! Scar and his Zulu's killed her!" She yelled where she stood, her eyes getting watery. "Good! At least we've both got dead family members now!" Simba cried back in the same tone as before. This made Nala's mouth gap open and then she turned around and ran with her hands over her eyes, crying.
Later that night, Simba was walking around the woods, muttering about stuff when heard humming in the bushes. He then when off the path and went into the bushes to his left, walked for a minute or two and came upon an old black man wearing white robes, sitting cross legged on the ground. "You know, running from your past won't make you any better." The old man spoke. "Yeah, right. And who are you?" Simba asked. I know exactly who I am. The question is, who are you?" The old man said as he slowly got up on his feet. "I'm nobody. So, leave me alone, all right?" Simba asked, as the old man turned to face him. "Everybody is somebody. Even a nobody." The old man, who was actually Rafiki, said to him. "I think you're confused. It happens with old people." Simba replied. "Confused, I am not. And you don't even know who you are." Rafiki said. "Oh, and I suppose you do?" Simba asked, irritated. "I once held the so of Mufasa in my own hands." Rafiki answered, stepping a step or two closer to Simba. "You knew my father?" Simba asked, confused. "Correction. I know your father." Rafiki answered. "He died a long time ago." Simba said, now being the one confused. "He's alive! And I can take you to him. Follow me, I will show you!" The old man said, as he then turned around and began moving as fast a he could through the bushes. Simba stood still for a few seconds before he followed him. Simba kept the old man, whose speed surprised him, as he followed him from behind, a few feet away. They kept moving through the woods for several minutes before they came out of the woods in front of a sma.
Rafiki, still in front, then sat down in front of the water. "Your father is waiting." He spoke, pointing with his right index finger down at the water. Simba stepped up to where Rafiki sat, leaned his head out over the water, looked down, and saw his reflection in it. "Do you see him?" Rafiki asked. "I don't see anything except my own reflection." Simba said impatiently, wondering why he was even doing this. Rafiki then spoke something Simba didn't understand in Xhosa, before he said to Simba: "Look closer." Then he dipped his right-hand fingers into the water where Simba's reflection was, making ripples appear in the water. Simba looked closer as Rafiki withdrew his fingers, and calmed his mind. A few seconds later, he saw his reflection in the water changed. His hair became slightly longer, his eyes became yellow, his chin became hairy, and his face size looked slightly bigger. Then it hit him; he was seeing his father's face before him! "Do you see? He lives in you." Rafiki said, wisely. Simba stared in silence before he heard a voice he hadn't heard in years.
"Simba." The voice said. Simba looked ahead, saw nobody standing in front of him, but he then heard the sound of rumbling thunder from above, looked up and saw a large cloud that weren't there before forming above him. He then saw small flashed of lighting in the cloud, two flashed in the circular shapes of eyes. Simba looked left, but didn't see the old man, and looked upwards again. He had no idea what was going, but something inside him told him to say something. "Dad?" He asked, shocked. "Simba. You must fulfil your destiny and take your place in the circle of life." The voice in the cloud spoke. Simba realised that the voice he was hearing was definitely his father's. "I can't." Simba replied, looking slightly down. "You must remember who you are: The one true king." Mufasa's voice spoke. "Still has his way with words." Simba thought in his head. "I'm sorry, but I can't. I don't know how to be a king, how to be like you, the King you were." Simba said sadly, still looking down. "In all my life, as King, I was most proud of one thing: having you as my son." Hearing that must have hit a soft spot, because it made Simba look up, widen his eyes slightly, and his mouth open. "That… that was a long time ago." Simba said, not knowing why he said it. "No, Simba. That is forever." Mufasa's voice spoke, before the clouds above started to fade away, as the light of dawn started to appear over the horizon. "Please. Don't leave me again." Simba pleaded as he stepped into the water, the cloud more and more fading as the sun came up. "I never left you. And never will. Remember who you are. Remember." Mufasa's voice spoke, echoing the last word, as the last of the cloud faded away. Simba then looked down at the water as heard Rafiki's voice again. "And so, I ask again: who are you?" Rafiki asked from behind him. Simba took a deep breath before he looked up, a look of determination all over his face. "I am Simba. Son of Mufasa." He said with pride before he ran out of water, leaving behind a laughing Rafiki, as he grabbed a long and thin stick with his right hand and pointed into the air like a sword, adrenaline and something a fire inside building up, which let out with a vicious roar like cry. Simba the Prince had returned.
And that's the thirteenth chapter. Hope you enjoyed it. Please review. Will do a chapter next week, and until then…. HAPPY CHRISTMAS!