Sun shone in the sky, but not a bird passed through it. The air was still, the grass barely rustling at all. It was as if the land itself seemed to recognize the tragedy that had befallen the kingdom.
It was in that lifeless afternoon that the king addressed the pride for the first time since the incident, the wound on his side long ago tended to.
"Scar," he said softly, "is dead. My brother is dead. And he gave his life so that my son would live. So that I wouldn't be forced to make the choice of saving Simba at my own expense, or watching him die in front of me. He gave his life for me." Mufasa swallowed, his eyes watering, but he forced himself to remain strong. "He gave his life for the kingdom."
He looked over the others. Few other tears were shed. Scar had been a part of this pride, a vital part-but he had no one. No one close enough to even truly mourn him at his own funeral. Save one-Simba, nuzzling his mother, as tears streamed down his face. He was close to Scar, closer than Mufasa realized, closer than anyone else.
"There were many times when I didn't care for my brother," he admitted. "Times when I felt he went out of his way to contradict me. Even times when I felt he attempted to usurp my rule. But in the end, he was my brother. He was family. And he had the kingdom in his heart, as every good lion does. For all our fights, for all our disagreements, he did mean for a stronger kingdom-a better kingdom."
He turned, wincing as his side pained him, his heavy paws resting on the very edge of Pride Rock as his subjects looked on.
"I doubted his loyalty. His commitment. But in the end, I was proven wrong. In the end, my brother left a legacy that I fear I might never live up to."
He bowed his head low, shaking it. "He should not have been put into that position," he said softly. "No one should have." He turned again, the pain in his side sharp and burning as Zazu fluttered out of his way.
"No one should have to put themselves in the position to damn themselves to save another!" he said. He glanced down at his son. "But I don't blame you, Simba. This...this is not your fault. Not your doing." He looked at the lionesses, his pride, all that he had left. "I don't even blame the wildebeest! No, I place the blame solely on those who planned this!"
He saw them looking at each other in confusion.
"Is it a coincidence that I was ambushed, injured, barely able to escape from attack only a few minutes from the gorge? That my son was attacked by wildebeest who were not even intending to migrate?" he snarled. He began pacing in front of them, every other step a pained limp as his side throbbed angrily. "I was torn into by mangy, flea-bitten dogs who would have taken the entire kingdom from me!"
"I am injured. My son nearly died. My brother is dead! The very animals that my brother tried to protect, that he would have peace with, are the reason he is dead!" he thundered. He stormed to the precipice once more. "Hyenas attacked me! They would have had me try to rescue my son, and have us both taken to the stars under the hooves of a thousand frightened beasts! They are the reason my brother, our Scar, is dead!"
He saw the anger growing on their faces as they saw the threat.
"They have ventured into our kingdom for the last time!" he snarled. "They would tear us down by ripping off our head, and they are no longer a threat that can be ignored! In the name of my brother, I hereby declare unconditional, total, and absolute war on the hyenas! Victory will only be ours when the last one is wiped from the face of the planet. Who stands with me? Who stands with the Lion King?!"
Their mouths opened, some more reluctantly than others. But in seconds, the combined roar of the pride spread across the savanna in a terrifying rumble. This would be the only warning that the hyenas would receive.
It was peaceful that night in the den. The last peaceful night that they'd have for a long, long while. And the Lion King lay there, wide awake but unmoving.
His son wasn't with him. He turned-and saw the boy sitting alone on the precipice of Pride Rock.
For a moment, Mufasa's eyes narrowed. Then he stood and silently made his way to his son's side. And together they looked at the kingdom that was theirs and the kingdom above it.
"Dad?" he heard after a few moments. He looked down and saw Simba sitting next to him, eyes wide with concern. "Are-are you okay?"
"I am. I just needed some air. And some time with my boy." He ruffled the cub's ears with his paw. "What's on your mind, son?"
"I'm just worried about you," he said, looking at the leaves pressed over the gash on his side. "Does it hurt?"
"A little, but your dad's tough," he said. "It's going to take more than that to take me down."
He felt Simba huddle closer to him, the wind chilling the cub's small body.
"Dad, when you die, you go up there, right?" he asked. "Into the sky? Into the stars?"
"Yes, son. All of the great kings of our past are there, watching over us."
"And Uncle Scar's up there too, right?" he asked.
Mufasa sighed. "Kings shine in life and in the afterlife, Simba. Scar wasn't king. He will never shine."
"But...why not? He saved me. He saved you, too. You said that. You just said it today."
He felt as if he had to choose my words carefully. "There are many beings who do many great deeds. Some big. Some small. Most, Simba, you'll never hear about. But only kings can shine among the stars, for we are who have the greatest duties, who do the greatest deeds of them all. Do you understand?"
"...So you're saying Scar isn't up there," he said quietly, ears flattening against his head. He saw his eyes welling up. Scar had saved his life-and now his uncle would be forgotten.
Mufasa paused, then brought him close in a hug. "Scar might not be visible," he said, "but… perhaps he still looks down on you. On all of us. Watching and protecting. An unshining star to keep us safe."
"Really?" asked Simba.
"Really," Mufasa said. He licked his son's cheek. "Now come on. You go back to bed. I'll be back in a few minutes." He felt Simba nuzzle his leg before he ran back inside.
"An unshining star. That's a new one, Sire."
Mufasa turned and half-smiled at his Majordomo. A quirk of his head had the hornbill alight on his shoulder
"Nonsense, I know. But if it comforts the boy, perhaps it's worth it."
Zazu grinned. And then, slowly, he looked away from his king, into the far distances of the Pride Lands, and what lay beyond them.
"Is something on your mind?" Mufasa said.
"Sire, I… when the lionesses and I arrived at the gorge… you kept Sarafina, and sent me and Sameera to take Simba back to safety. Which we did, Sire, with all haste. But…"
"But?" Mufasa said.
"But…" Zazu swallowed. "But Sire, before you interred your brother into the river, I… I couldn't see very well, I was so far away, but… but it seemed as if… as if he was still breathing."
Mufasa froze. And for a long, long time, he didn't speak. And then a lone tear rolled down his cheek.
"He was still breathing. He… even regained consciousness, just for a moment, but… he was crippled, paralyzed from the neck down, and agonized, so he asked Sarafina and I to make it quick. Begged us, even. And then he passed out. If he still was alive when we got him into the river… then I admit it, we killed him. But it was a mercy killing."
And then the King wept. And then his Majordomo wept. But something about the way Zazu kept looking back at him, as if to gauge his expression…
"Zazu," Mufasa said, "now that I think of it… when the Prince and I came out here, you were reclining, were you not?"
"Well, no, I mean, yes," Zazu said. He paused and swallowed. "I mean, yes, Sire, I was reclining."
"And reclining you remained until the Prince left."
"Yes, Sire," Zazu said, slowly drawing himself into a straighter, more rigid posture.
And then he jumped when the Lion King's jaws snapped at him and hovered in the air some distance away.
"I've let you think too highly of yourself. You, a Majordomo, a servant at best… you've started to forget your customs and courtesies," Mufasa said.
"No, Sire, I mean, I'm sorry, I-"
"Silence."
One word was all it took. Zazu lingered in the air and Mufasa stared at him, for a moment, before he turned back to his kingdom.
"Go and scout out the hyena territory that borders the grasslands. All of the hyena territory that borders the grasslands. I expect you back at Pride Rock within a month, but return within the fortnight at your own peril. Now begone."
Zazu dipped his head and then zoomed off into the distance at best speed, a faint lingering scent and a few perturbed feathers all that remained of him. But Mufasa paid these no attention. His eyes were on the stars, on the cosmos, on the mysteries that they might hide.
"An unshining star," he said. "Pah."
He spat, turned, and returned to the den not to sleep, but to plot. The war was declared, and the very next morning, his legions would strike with the sun.