Chapter Two – Oliver
"I'm street wise, I can improvise… I'm street smart, I got New York City heart."
Nala's part-time job at the diner ended roughly the same time as the grade school got out, so she always made it a point to get back to the orphanage quickly so she could see her younger sister getting home. She and Kiara had been living at the orphanage ever since their mother had passed away, broken down by the burden of raising two children alone in the dystopia created by Scar's reign.
Stifling a yawn with the back of one hand, she leaned against the fence in front of the orphanage. Working two jobs, one at day and one at night, was starting to take its toll. Not that she could quit… Kiara wasn't the only one in the orphanage who relied on that money. Oh well… she could hold out a little longer; sleep was over-rated.
The sound of someone approaching from behind caused Nala to turn. It was Bernard, the only other adult besides Zazu in the orphanage. He gave his watch a perplexed look, turned to look down the street a bit, then turned a worried gaze to Nala.
"They're not usually this late…" he mused, scratching his head and looking at his watch again.
"Nala… did Kiara mention a school trip or something?"
Shaking her head, Nala mirrored Bernard's worried frown.
"Bernaaaaaaard! Nalaaaa!"
A young voice, raised in a hysteric yell, caused them both to whip their heads around. It was Oliver, running full tilt. He practically slammed into Nala, clinging to her and pressing his face into her chest. It took her a moment to realize he was sobbing, hard. Looking up from his shuddering form, Nala exchanged a look with Bernard; Oliver never cried.
Pulling Oliver away a little, Nala crouched to his eye-level, holding his shoulders.
"Oliver… what happened?"
Through his tears, the boy choked out the story:
"The City Guard… came in a… a black car and… and th…. They… they had guns… and they… took Kiara away."
This last piece was spoken in no more than a whisper, but it struck Nala like a knife through her heart. She felt a cold emptiness spreading through her limbs… followed closely by a burning rage that consumed everything else.
Kiara! Her sister! Kiara!!
Straightening, Nala let go of Oliver and took a step toward the street. She stopped as Bernard caught her arm and turned toward him, glaring. Meeting her gaze, he tightened his grip.
"Nala… even if you run off… how will you find her?"
For a moment she paused, but only for a moment. She then jerked her arm away and turned… and found herself face-to-face with Simba.
They faced each other for a few moments, her wide, surprised eyes held by his steely countenance. Then Nala jerked backward, bringing a defensive arm up between herself and the sudden apparition.
"I know where your sister is…"
His murmured words took an instant to sink in, and when they did Nala's hand closed into a fist. She looked at the broken sword around his neck, then back into his eyes.
"You're the one… that's been killing City Guards… aren't you? If you… if you've gotten my sister involved in your… your… Why don't you just leave? Why'd you have to come to this town?"
His eyes held for a moment, then he looked away. She was too angry to see the pain that was sending cracks through his flinty eyes.
"Scar isn't… this un-chivalrous. He doesn't like cheating like this. The Guards must be acting on their own. If I call Scar's attention to it, he'll make sure they don't do it again."
She heard the remorse in his voice, and her heart softened a little. He was sorry for the trouble he had caused, and wanted to help. She waited for a bit before speaking, allowing the calm to return to her mind.
"You can… get her back?"
Simba nodded. "I can get her back, but Oliver will come with me."
Nala blinked, running that through her head a few times. "O… Oliver? What?"
Simba ignored her confused question and stepped around her, addressing himself to the boy, who had dried his tears by this point and who had been watching the conversation with interest.
"Oliver, do you still have the nunchaku that your father gave you?"
Oliver's eyes opened wide as he nodded. "How do you know about that?"
Simba waved away the boy's question impatiently "I'll explain it all later. Do you want to protect Kiara? More than anything else?"
Once again the boy nodded, mystified. "Of course… she's my best friend."
Taking the broken sword off of his neck, Simba lightly tapped Oliver on the chest, over his heart, with the end of what was left of the blade. "May your oath join that of your King, and strengthen it. The nunchaku you inherited are called the Guardian Duet, forged to serve the Royal Oath, which is the sword I wield now. Your father's one goal in life was to protect my mother from harm, and he gave his life doing so. Now you will use his weapon in the same pursuit; to protect the one you love. You are the first to join the ranks of my trusted fighters. Go and get the Duet, and we will seek out the girl."
Oliver listened, open-mouthed. At the end he bowed low and scampered off toward the house. After watching the boy leave, Nala spun around and prodded Simba in the chest, angry again. "What do you think you're doing? You can't get Oliver involved in this! He's just a child, he's never fought before!"
"I can feel the light from his heart… he is one of your sister's 'stars'. I cannot free this city alone… he is the first of many. I can feel them scattered all over the city, and I will find them one by one, until I am able to meet the tyrant Scar on equal terms. Don't worry about the boy, I will not see him die."
His cold reply only dug into Nala's nerves more.
"How can you be this way? You're treating this like it's some kind of chess game, with you and Scar playing opposite sides! Are the people of this city just pieces in your plan?"
Simba was silent for a long time after this tirade, and when he finally spoke it was barely above a whisper, and the pain had returned.
"What would you have me do? I cannot face this alone."
Before Nala could reply Oliver had returned, the worn nunchaku she had often seen him playing with thrust through his belt. She shook her head.
"How do you even expect him to fight with those old things?"
"When he is fulfilling the oath of protection he has given they will become great weapons, much like my sword does. Come, Oliver."
Simba avoided Nala's eyes as he turned to leave… her words were still burning inside of him. For a moment he considered turning back and telling the boy to stay instead… but Oliver was already by his side, and he could see the conviction in the boy's eyes. How could he now deny the boy a chance to avenge the capture of his friend? No… he would have to tell Nala the whole story when they returned… maybe she would understand then.