CHRONICLES OF

THE PRIDE LANDS

THE TRIlOGY

BOOK I:

THE KING'S FORGOTTEN SHADOW


Author's Note

In my freetime, I decided to write down my ideas for the history of the Pride Lands. We shall learn of all of Simba's dark, suspenseful family history.

This fanfic was highly requested, so here it goes!

*Updated on 6/2/2022* Modified grammar/spelling errors, will update table of contents once a new chapter is submitted.

Feel free to leave a review I'd love to hear your thoughts!


Table of Contents:

Preface...pg. 1-10


THE KING'S FORGOTTEN SHADOW

Written By: @Matthewriter

Governed by twenty-two generations of lions, Pride Rock, the legendary stone pinnacle remains a myriad symbol of peace — yielding a long history. The lineage of Great Kings of the Pride Lands are the most well known monarchy in all of Africa, amongst all lions. Inscribed deep within this trilogy is all of Pride Rock's rich history, hidden deep within stone — and the wisps of time — but not as far, where history repeats itself.

The Circle of Life is never left broken or tarnished by all the wronged decision-makers. Sometimes it takes a generation to fix the errors that their ancestors had made, ensuring that it remains in that balance, to avoid punitive consequences to dictate the severity of one's actions. The Great Kings make the laws after all, and many were broken the day that Scar assumed the throne.

Although cast away, and unwanted, the scarred one has a story of how he truly came to be...

PREFACE

All Ed could do was laugh, but this wasn't at all the usual bouts of contagiously-unbridled, humorous laughter that Scar was so used to; it was the same loud, mechanical, seething cackles he heard his entourage make — right before dining on a much-anticipated, condign meal; for this was the most sinister of hyena laughs that Scar seldomly heard any of them make at all during his reign, with an existence he had even forgotten — since the scarred lion had lead their spotted-kind under many false promises and moral precedence to deliver, of pure aversion to ever efficiently meet their needs.

The hyenas had every right to be angry, upon learning that Scar not only betrayed those who wronged him, but the only ones who were kind enough to accept him as a misfit just like them, only to be repaid in a way that is harrowing. Immediately, the hyenas had realized that they would have lingered in retrospect for the rest of their days, expecting Scar to fulfill their needs. Unable to ever admit that he was wrong, or sorry, while he had the chance — it was only time that Scar had to pay the ultimate penalty; he hadn't even deserved the chances that they had given him countless times before. If only they knew...

A hearty, full-course meal was their long-awaited appetency — and their prolonged wait made their cravings immeasurable; little had Scar known that gloating them into being his trusteed minions would come with a price to pay sooner or later, especially for the clever-deception, and the irony of him being unable to abide by his own rules. The contract still entailed that they would depend on Scar to feed them "justice, deliciously squared," and their tyrant of a king had his dues — only to find, for such a horrific fate, he'd been completely unprepared!

Ed's laugh struck pure fear into Scar's heart — and collectively, the entire clan joined in — freed from their allegiance to a tyrant, and ready to dine on the meal; the scarification of Scar was Simba's offering, laid out for them, in order to restore peace within the Pride Lands — and to no longer cross paths with their kind...

Dust, and the debris of a dead tree that was struck by lightning — along with relentlessly thick, black clouds of smoke emitting from the strike-site — was so suffocating for Scar to inhale. His heart and head raced as he fought to catch every agonizing breath.

Death was imminent, and no one could prevent the torment he beseeched upon himself by disobeying his ancestors — and for betraying his pride, and his only friends. Scar's demise had been long called-for and awaited by the desolate lengths of time, when he could never admit to what he had done; he felt like he had no reason to.

For the first time, he knew what it was like to feel success the moment that his well-thought-out-and-orchestrated plan to bring down Mufasa had gone accordingly, yet Simba's survival proved that Scar's failures always caught up to him in the very end — no matter how hard he tried to run from truth's grasp — like a startled little mouse being hunted down by a mighty lion; everything was always taken from him, and the moment he had any opportunity to prove himself — he was rejected, seemingly set for failure at every single turn.

He couldn't even produce suitable offspring of his own to lead. It was almost like Scar was only born to fail...

Scar's reign had come to an end as quickly as it begun. Under his leadership, many perished under the relentless heat of the rainless skies. Once the Circle of Life was broken, rain just wouldn't come. Many innocent lions, not just of the Pride Lands — died, as well as many of the hyenas.

The Pride Lands was never intended to supply an overpopulation of hyenas, amongst Scar's pride — as the trust of the herds inhabiting the land quickly shifted. Scar's word came over all others, yet he had taken no notion to preserve the deed of honors for the herds, nor did he reinforce the grimly-instinctual behavior of the hyenas — as Mufasa had done so well— and soon, the herds dispersed one-by-one; this was partially why the hyenas began succumbing to starvation, but Scar never took the blame.

The lionesses were skilled at hunting, and was a task that only they could upheld — under Scar's new rules; the hyenas could order the lionesses around, and impede on their chances of succeeding at a catch that they weren't interested in. Large game was targeted the most, and while lionesses became overworked — and exhausted, the hyenas became plump and lazy — crippled by their impatience, and sense of superiority over Scar's subjects.

Their prejudice against lions was never dimmed by the fact that they bowed to a lion king; Scar was just the only lion that they trusted and tolerated, and if he ever lost that trust — it could never be recovered again...

Swallowed by the darkness of disparity and a lust for greed, it was truly a heartbreaking sight to see the Pride Lands stripped away of its tranquility and luster; the atmosphere took a quick shift, eerily mirroring, in the sense of an uncanny valley, the Elephant Graveyard; it was almost like that dark place had swallowed the Pride Lands whole, producing what could only feel like an alternate dimension. No longer was the Pride Lands a heavily guarded, safe-haven that overflowed with plant and animal life forms; it was tainted by evil and destruction, and then abandoned — resulting in the "ghost town" that it became.

The plague-like presence of hundreds of hyenas, dotting every bend and turn — eyeing the lionesses every move — and laughing all throughout the night, permanently cementing fear into the mind of young Nala. It had all been far too much for a growing cub to bear, disabling her ability to grieve without being forced to relive that day when she had ventured off to the Elephant Graveyard with Simba.

Her mind was tormented by the thought of the hyenas picking them all off one-by-one — cubs first. Her mistrust had proven to be true and justifiable, upon losing her mother so suddenly; it was just as hard, but Scar's inability to emphasize with the former heiress had completely thrown her off — in a metaphorical sense of anguish, fear, and hurt — to the point of no return. In no way could she just give in to Scar's power so helplessly, with no promise of any reward — unlike the hyenas; marrying someone who was like her stepfather, and even fathered her brother, could only be a cruel punishment.

Scar was one lion who didn't take "no" for an answer. The moment that a punishable offense happened, with the whisk of a tail tuft, Scar's cronies "eradicated the problem." The tasks given to the hyenas were to provoke the sense of fear, mistrust, and to attack whoever Scar permitted them to; perhaps seeing that now they could permit themselves to give Scar the same treatment was karma that was long overdue.

Just moments after Nala witnessed her mother die on their first and only hint together, Scar arranged to marry her, in hopes that he could get close to her as she openly grieved her losses; after losing her mother, she grieved for Simba and Mheetu all over again.

Scar felt it was the perfect opportunity to win her over, under the given-impression that he-too was grieving the loss of loved ones gone too soon. Orchestrated so quickly, not believing he could ever fail to get what he wanted at the time, Scar was bewildered by her disappearance upon hearing of his plans; they apparently weren't as well anticipated by her as he had hoped they would've been.

Nala's mother had been the love of Scar's life, and the heiress looked just like her mom; it was only natural that Scar was drawn to her adult form; the heiress had alwaya caught the "king's" eye far more than the other lionesses could, despite being half his age, and she was just as beautiful as he'd hoped.

What drew him to the conclusion that their marriage would be arranged was after overhearing her say, the night before her mother died, that she felt like her life had no meaning now that she "could never be queen." From birth, Nala had been groomed to be a princess — personally selected by Mufasa to be betrothed to Simba; she had honored that role, and had looked forward to becoming queen, and Scar wanted all of their dreams to come true.

She disappeared suddenly in the night, a day prior to the ceremony, which was not long after Scar had hereby announced the unconventional pairing of the two for her and the entirety of the kingdom to learn in unison; he couldn't of possibly picked a better time than the conclusion of her mother's coronation, even before the vigilance. He recalled her looking horrified, and as the days progressed during her absence, when search parties made up of both lion and hyena — turned up inconclusive — Scar called off the search, believing she was either killed or had taken her life; there was just no way she could escape him alive, and disappear into thin air! Unbeknowst to Scar, she really hadn't; the lionesses had all aided her departure, which was easier to do than expected — since Scar hardly ever shared his space in the presence of another lion.

Nala hadn't been gone for six months before returning, and Scar was absolutely taken aback to find that she wasn't alone at all. There was a strange, golden lion with her.

He looked just like Mufasa, but couldn't of been. Scar knew that Mufasa's body was nothing but bones now; still, just looking at the stranger was more than enough to convince the corrupt ruler that his deceased brother somehow regained all of his mauled flesh — returning to his physical form as a younger version of himself, just as he had done in the dreams that kept coming to Scar leading up to the day of Simba's return...

It was even harder to believe that this soft-spoken clone of Scar's deceased brother was Simba, than the supernatural manifestation of Mufasa — formulated by the mind of a manical lion, on the brink of becoming an elder. Could this have been what my dreams entailed?

Scar remembered asking himself upon seeing Simba again, fully grown. And with that, what came as unsurprising to him by the long shot — the entire pride was on their side, and were courageous enough to challenge his authority.

Always, Scar had planned the death penalty if anyone was to openly-disobey his orders or if he was to find out that someone had. In mind, throughout his entire reign, was the fact that he had always wanted to be of power — amounting to far more than what could be expected from a "last resort heir," or "shadow of Mufasa." Scar was driven by the one-desire to prove others wrong, and to make them regret ever judging him.

Since the hyenas always idolized him, placing him on a pedestal above other lions — akin to his brother, they truly had the most of Scar's respect. One of the reasons why Scar loathed his nephew, despite how much Mufasa's son had idolized him so, was because Simba never had any male competition — thus, no opportunity to have his kingdom robbed from his birthright, as Scar had; Mufasa saw to it that his son would have no one to compete with; while Scar had saw to it that his nephew would die long ago, seeing that Mufasa wouldn't let anything get in his son's way.

The moment Mufasa died, Scar knew that there was just no way that he would be willing to give Simba any chance at returning to challenge him — especially if he had inherited Mufasa's brute strength, just as well as he did his looks.

The deed should've been done.

Scar just couldn't fathom how Simba could possibly be still alive — and had grown up somewhere far from the sanctuary, perhaps accompanied by other lions. Maybe Scar wasn't entirely wrong for breaking amends with the hyenas, whose sole responsibility was to kill Simba after Mufasa died — about three years ago.

They probably had far more explaining to do than Scar. What has this all come to? How could this be? Simba? Alive? Then the skull I was given must've been my son's! No wonder it looked so small! Scar couldn't help but to wonder this, feeling immense disdain — coupled with disappointment; for the first time in a long time, the entirely-wrongful king felt the sense of failure come over him.

Never before had Scar wondered so much about death. The thought was always deterred from resurfacing, but always somehow managed to find itself turning the clockwork of his brain. Now that he was about to die, for once, he feared the great unknown.

Where does the corrupt kings go? What happens to lions who steal their right to a throne, and kill their own in an unjust fashion? What happens to those who lie and betray the ones who love them the most? Scar was deathly afraid of knowing. As he felt hus soul being dragged like the dead zebra carcass Scar had all to himself that morning, into the flamy pits of the demonic presence that persistently beckoned him, fragments of his lift — after his corruption — flashed in his mind like beams of sunlight, amass the surrounding darkness. Suddenly, he was back at the gorge.

The scenery was dimmer, bleaker, and dustier than he remembered — thinking to himself, while taking it all in; this poised him amidst yet another vast distration from his final moments of agony. Scar watched the hyenas disappear over the bend, after he had ordered them to "kill" Simba.

He could hear their growls bouncing off the sandstone walls, as they snapped their jaws at their target — cub Simba's little heels. There was no way a cub could outrun full-grown hyenas.

A smile creeped on his face, broken by years of pain and neglect. Yet, for once, Scar's smile conveyed pure happiness — and satisfaction. Even if the plan carried out didn't authorize him the right to rule, or for his actions to go unpunished, Scar felt king at last.

Chuckling, he turned towards the cooling body of his deceased brother. A twinge of remorse was overridden by the giddy-joy of his success. Mufasa had thrown away the right to make amends long ago, being so much like Simba as a cub. They both always felt better than him, and now that Simba could never rule — he stood on top, feeling as though everything was in his fingertips.

The ball set in motion could have failed, like all of the rest, but Scar envisioned it as clear as day. Coercing with hyenas enabled him to lose his ability to forgive, even though Mufasa had simply been conducting himself "the lion way."

Long before, Scar had known that sharing the land with his brother was unnegotiable, so matter how persistently that the younger prince had pressed the king; it seemed, the more he brought it up — the angrier Mufasa became. Still, how could he do it — and not expect me to retaliate? How could he not spare his life for me?

"You took everything from me!" Scar remembered saying to Mufasa's strewn corpse, battered and beaten by hundreds of the hooves of the startled wildebeests. "I had to return the favor, so don't go haunting me and seeking revenge from the other side. I had to do this."

A tear daren't fall, stifled by Scar's unwillingness to express any emotion but raw happiness the moment that his brother was no more. He had finally done it, and couldn't even cry tears of joy — which could be easily misconstrued as remorse, and Scar knew no such thing; he felt absolutely no loss of sanity upon the orchestration of his brother's death.

Still, deep down, he wished that things could have been amended between the two — but like him, Mufasa wasn't willing to cast aside his desire to uphold his ego; he could "never share" his kingdom with him, now that he had every Pride Lander under his fingertips. That wasn't his fault; he tried to reconcile with his even-more stuck up brother, to no avail...

Once Mufasa had dead, Scar remembered feeling his disappointed presence, and could now see his brother's eyes — that he felt drilling into him, but heard no more than the gentle current of wind passing through the old sandstone dunes. Ominous music could be sensed in his mind rather than through sound; it was distant, with spiritual overtones of suspense, signifying Scar's uneasiness — seeing the slight distortion of anger on his brother's slightly twisted up face — and pondering the thought, Could he have survived?

One thing that the scarred lion feared were ghosts, especially the pale — physical forms of those that were deceased. He always seemed to see them in his dreams, but only those with an evil presence. Since Mufasa was brutally murdered along with the one he would give anything to protect, he could only imagine the pain his brother would invoke upon him in retaliation — the moment that he's able to.

Scar was so sure that that day had come today, after having more and more dreams of Mufasa — chasing him through a mysterious desert, with nowhere for Scar to go! He had wondered if the dreams had been brought on by the fact yhat Mufasa's bones are in a cavern where Scar sought solitude, away from the presence of his pride — who all gossiped about him, and didn't fully see him as fit to lead as the time progressed. Scar's decision-making was solely based off his own wants and needs, which would almost always benefit him and his allegiance of hyenas far more than his pride, aside from the choice-few lions that he tolerated; those that blindly followed and idolized him were the only ones who earned his respect, and sympathy as the times got harder.

The survival of his entire pride or the herds just never really mattered as much, and was often too much to think about; there was far more to being king than he had bargained for...

Fire caused Scar's eyes to burn, and as the thick smoke filled his lungs - shortening his breath - he saw "the enemy" closing in. His minions had turned on him, bearing truth to their natural instincts at the sight of prey. They were all starving, and Scar was on the menu. Scar felt his body being apart, and shredded in the jaws of "the enemy" as he desperately tried to fight them off of him; all the while, his body weakened, feeling number, and colder - as warm blood pooled at his feet. As his eyes started to cloud, he felt death closing in as the flames scorched his underbelly, pooling up the pool of blood beneath him. Flames lapped, charring his legs, and he collapsed - and many hyenas died to taste the barbecue of their tormentor. Even when the Pride Lands was founded by Kiongozi, hyenas were a sworn challenger of lions. Hyena and lions killed each other at every cost.

Even beyond a lions' average-level of intelligence, hyenas were far more clever than they let on, with enough strength and willpower to ambush and kill lions — since their kind never forgives once wronged. Lions were more docile by nature, tending to forgive and come to a peaceful resolution, although some are plagued by selfish and greed, especially when male and stereotyped as kings. Kings were the chosen ones; they were all princes who were selected, after months of criticism from their fathers — and to not be was like not being a lion.

Only the first born, or the best suited of two, were deemed "the chosen ones" — given only the best upbringing, and pampered over any other cub — traditionally presented for every chapter of their life — including the day when they got their manes; muscular, dark maned lions were considered the most attractive amongst lioness in every social environment — and they received all of the praise. If a cub is a rogue, or considered "weak" in any aspect, he is nicknamed "Taka" — and is subject to extensive emotional abuse. If a lion was born to be evil and corrupt, he is called "Scar," after "Scarface," who the name "Taka" was derived from; that had been his birth-name. Scar, named "Kivuli" at birth, was ignored by his father most of the time, and every interaction that they did have rubbed him the wrong way. Just like prophesied, Mohatu II was emotionally unavailable to the son that was a chore to claim. Perhaps his horse-like gait was why only the hyenas did not judge young Scar.

They chuckled with glee as they too met their fate; following a lion who was the true reincarnation of Scarface made them forever go down in history once again as evil to all of lion-kind. His scar and overall demeanor precisely mirrored his curse of a namesake — Scarface. Scar and Scarface were related; Scarface was Scar's "great, great, great, great, great, great granddaddy; he was foretold to be the most powerful, evil lion to walk the Pride Lands until Scar came to be; Scar was actually a lot worse than him.

Unlike Scar, Scarface did not succeed at killing his twin brother Safiri, Mufasa's second-born descendant of the Pride Lands' settlers — who was also favorited by the king, in the same fashion as Mohatu II's oldest son.

The one lion that had changed their scope of the lion species to that of a cousin, pride-mate — the king, considered their sworn leader — betrayed them, proclaiming their disassembly, and admitting to leading them under the false as semblance of a legion. For that reason — no longer did they have to look up to a lion, and never should have to begin with. The Great Kings could never forgive Scar or the hyenas for their wrongdoings.

Lions gave hyenas a bad reputation as an entire class, not just the spotted division — any hyena was seen as a challenge, when neither are naturally morally bad; they were just following their instinsts; hyenas were always considered "the enemy."

Why it was so surprising to hear Scar lament what nature had intended to similar, yet very different, species — who both collide on top of the food chain — was because their allegiance entailed they were equally powerful and divine. Scar's lamentation dismantled the very promise that lion and hyena would exist together, living in harmony forevermore.

Scar must've negotiated ruling over them, leading them under false precedences — as he had done his own flesh and blood; it was too bad hyenas didn't resolve matters like this like a docile lion. Because of this, the Great Circle of Life had been broken, bringing forth the darkness that obliterated any trace of serenity enclosed within the ranks of the Pride Lands for centuries; Scar had made the ultimate sacrifice for his own selfish needs, and had to pay the penalty of death...

Co-existing with hyenas, and getting along for as long as they had, simply wasn't a natural occurrence — let along something that should've ever transpired within the Pride Lands. The spotted ancestors of Shenzi's clan had conducted such a heinous crime — killing Princess Akira, and consuming the body of King Mufasa; Scar had also ordered them to kill Simba, and did not question why the blood dripping down their fangs was Banzai's — and not the prince.

Still, how had this string of tragedies — all — come to be? The rise and fall of Scar, following the presumed death of Mufasa and his son Simba — and the fight that ensued once the truth was revealed that the king's death was the work of a deceitful tyrant, who had for years plotted the downfall of his older twin brother...

Simba sighed. He had saw everything from Pride Rocks summit. Nala stood beside him as the fire from the lightning strike erupted where Scar had fallen and met his fate. They couldn't help but quint their eyes, blinded by thick black smoke — carrying with it debris and soot.

The smell of burning lion and hyena flesh nauseated them, and they felt no remorse for not helping Simba's uncle, who had been corrupt by the tangents of evil and jealousy for so long. Still, if only he could've put that aside, and aided Simba as a cub. Simba would've been more than willing to return the favor ti Scar, allowing his uncle to lead his own pride on the same grounds — but the scarred former king wanted all the power and glory.

While Scar had admitted what he had done before his death — simply doing so could never take back the pain he caused Simba, and made the rightful king feel a twinge of regret; he blamed Simba, he knew very well that it wasn't his fault. He knew that would break Simba's ego, just like it had broke Mufasa's some time ago...

Had he not beseeched Simba to go down to the gorge that fateful day, and filled his mind with lies — including the blame over the death of his father, when it had really been Simba's mere existence, which drove Scar mad — he'd still be alive; Mufasa would still be alive too, and all would have been as it should be — rather than what Scar would've desired for himself; he'd have his nephew's trust, and could've possibly negotiated having some land with Simba, but he didn't want to look up to his nephew! Simba was that constant reminder of Scar's dark past.

The scarred "king" had been thirsty for power for far too long, and appointed the only ones who had always looked up to him as his loyal cronies. The Circle of Life had been broken, and he had to pay. Simba was alive, and had the entire pride on his side.

Simba wasn't fully aware of the details of his family history, since Mufasa had never had the chance to tell his son how all came to be — let alone let him know the entire perimeter of the Pride Lands. It was vastly fascinating, Scar knew, and wanted Simba to have none of it.

He had been waiting for the moment to be crowned king for so long, but there was always a constant force that stood in his way of success...

While Simba was never truly to blame for the darkness that welled in Scar's heart for so long, or the outcome of any of his corrupted uncle's wrongdoings — he couldn't help but lament himself as the blame for all of it; although, everything that transpired long before the he was ever born couldn't of been his fault, for simply being born the only rightful heir to the throne, continuing the lineage of Great Kings — and eliminating Scar's position. That had all been written in stone as what should have been, and Scar was always seen as the "last resort heir to appoint" if anything happened to Mufasa, or if Sarabi failed to spawn his offspring.

The time before Scar's heart was corrupted with anger and hatred for all that there was to come, the therefore forgotten prince hadn't been aware that he was to be denounced his birthright of being king, over and over again — unempathetically let down by everyone far too many times, even his own brother; this stripped Scar of all of his innocence, forcing him into the shadows of despair — to merely exist as the shadow of his brother Mufasa, the chosen one.

"What's down in the dark always comes to the light," as they say — but Scar could never escape the grips of darkness, shrouded by the testimony of proving himself worthy of the pressures of ruling a kingdom, which asked far more of him than he had bargained for...

After years of none at all, rain came down heavy and profusely. Sheets of water dampened all of the lion's coats as Simba took his place atop of the peak of Pride Rock. His thick head of auburn mane, akin to his father's, felt heavy from the rainfall — and the weight withheld from his shoulders, from all the years of not being able to acclaim his birthright to the throne.

Down below Pride Rock, the bodies of Scar and his trusted three hyena cronies, among a few others — could be seen; they were completely charred by the dying flames, barely put out by the rains that had already began to cease — seemingly just as soon as it had begun. The smoke emitted from the carcasses was so sickening that Simba felt lightheaded.

The bodies were to be disposed of right away — outside of the Pride Lands, where their lost souls can "run away and never return" from the Pride Lands' fortress forevermore...

Before Simba was truly fit to rule, he had to learn of his family history, inscribed the most thoroughly by Rafiki, since his father didn't live long enough to tell him all there was to know. Before Mufasa died, he learned about his grandfather and his namesake — Mohatu II and Mohatu. Still, there was far more to know, like why had Scar really become so evil — when there had been a time when Mufasa's brother was pure, kind, and all but one who lacked empathy and compassion for others; Scar was once lead by only good morals, finding good in all creatures — and taking it upon himself to sprwad piece.

Little was known of this facade being just that, to convince King Mohatu II to appoint him as king — seeing him as more responsible and modest. Simba couldn't help but wonder, what really happened? The murderously sinister lion, once his beloved uncle and caretaker — had turned on him; Scar always kept to himself, but wanting Simba dead seemed completely out of character for someone who always seemed to want to ensure his protection.

Why did that change? Was Scar's motives hereby buried beneath the rubble of troubling times? Simba sat, hanging his head, even after announcing the start of his reign. Nala sat beside him, and nuzzled his mane. He returned the gesture, appreciating every affectious indication she could offer him.

"What's on your mind?" Her voice was soft, lulling — and nurturing, like his mother's.

"I'm sorry I didn't tell you before.. all Scar's done to me, to our pride," Simba replied, solemnly. "I wish I knew what was going on in his mind.."

Nala didn'r respond, but remained at his side, overlooking the darkening sky around them. Looking up, he felt the gentle wind current passing by. He could feel his father watching over him, especially now...

What gave him peace of mind was knowing that his father would be proud. Justice had been served...