The sun beamed down on the Outlands but the devastating heat was the least of Mortread's problems. Both he and Rish'ut knelt in silence, neither looking at the other. Each of them kept their eyes firmly fixed upon the ground. The sun was scorching hot, but they didn't move out of its glare. An insect crawled around Mortread's ear; he didn't dare move to swat it away. They were not alone. Standing beside them the entire assembled might of Golgorath stood in neat little roads. Entire packs of wilddogs. A coalition of cheetahs stood nearby, looking around nervously. The few remaining serpents whom had not joined Amun on his mission to conquer the Shadowlands. Rish'ut idly wondered how that was going. Poorly, he hoped: before long Amun would be at the receiving end of the Emperor's displeasure.
Also lying prostrate on the dirty red dust lands were the few slaves and former prisoners of the tower whom had been unable or too cowardly to escape when the Pridelanders had launched their rescue of the young cubs. Fear, bad luck, injury or one of the wilddogs grabbing them at the last moment and left them stuck and unable to flee with the others. Whatever the reason for their capture, they did not simply stand with bowed heads as the Shai'tan and their minions did. Their entire bodies were pressed into the dirt in a display of supplication. The defiance they had showed to the Shai'tan in the pits had been stamped out.
They might have had the strength to stand up to the regent, but now the Emperor himself stood in front of them and there was no defiance to be had. His enormous bulk rippling with muscle, stripes of orange and black blending like smoke and fire. His eyes blazed like rubies.
They weren't the only ones who were still. Even Rish'ut had his eyes fixed firmly on the ground. Mortread knelt next to him, breathing heavily. He had been wounded in the fight, badly from the look of it. It didn't take a healer to know that the youngest of the Shai'tan required den rest at the very least. Blood had pooled thick around him, and one of his muscles would occasionally twitch and spasm. He ignored it. His face didn't so much as twitch. The other pack leaders were less stoic. They looked distressed and for once he couldn't blame them. An acrid scent filled the air. The multitude of dead who had fell in the fighting lay in a scattered pile, out in the baking sun. To any vultures that survived Jasiri's killings, it must have looked like quite a feast. Perched on the very top of the pile of viscera and innards was the hulking beast of Khnum. The River Lord that had been lurking unseen and unnoticed beneath the tower of Golgorath. That hadn't been good. But the beast was dead now. Wounds covered its form and even dead it induced fear and respect from the lesser animals. To Rish'ut, it was decidedly less impressive. A crocodile. A huge specimen of a crocodile. But a mortal beast nonetheless. Its jaw was slack and its belly upturned towards the blazing sun. That was the creature that Mortread had slain. He might have been impressed with his fellow diarch's victory if his ineptitude hadn't allowed the Pridelanders to get away. He swallowed. They had never known the Emperor to execute of the chosen. Surely that was beyond the realm of possibility? Finally, the Emperor spoke, with a voice as thunderous as the storm.
"If you were as capable of finding the Prince of the Pridelands as you were of finding new innovations in the field of failure, then you would be the Emperor of the World instead of I!" Rish'ut flinched.
"My Lord –"
"We will soon be buried beneath the avalanche of your incompetence, Rish'ut. I don't recall giving you leave to speak. A River Lord beneath our citadel. A gaggle of escaped slaves. The Oracle missing. And the Pridelands survivors here, right under your nose, and you let them escape once more!"
The Emperor turned to Mortread.
"And you! You were dispatched here to shore up Sekhmet's and Rish'ut's inadequacies, not add to them!" The Emperor seethed. "Still. At least you defeated the River Lord. I would not have us a rival in the Pridelands, and the River Lords are the mightiest creatures that these lands can array against us. Perhaps we ought to call you Khnum now: it is the custom of the River Lords for victor to take the name of the fallen. That is the extent of their immortality." The Emperor said.
"But my Emperor!" Rish'ut protested. "If Mortread had not –" Whatever Rish'ut might have said to deflect the blame was cut off when the Emperor swung his paw in an almighty arc with the speed of a bolt of lightning. Mortread wisely remained silent and offered no excuse. Whether fear or good sense, he didn't know. The blow took Rish'ut across the face and the tiger gave a cry of pain. There were gasps. A few shocked yelps. Harrin the wilddog captain gave a growl of warning to the other wilddogs, ordering their silence before the Emperor's attention could turn on them. It didn't. His gaze was fixed on Rish'ut.
"A cub bested you! By a child! A child you had no business leaving alive in the first place! You lost control of Golgorath! They attacked us. They dared to strike at us here! The Prince of the Pridelands remains at large and you have emboldened them! Let me assure you, Rish'ut I was loath to loose Sekhmet to these lands. But I can afford to lose more if I need to." He growled. Rish'ut clutched his eye, and for a moment, he feared he had been mistaken. Perhaps he would kill him. Surprisingly it was Mortread who broke the tension. Now they were both bleeding into the ground.
"Emperor. Forgive our failure. We await your orders. What would you have us do?" The younger of the spoke up. The Emperor looked at him.
"Mortread. You came into my service over my reservations. But until now you have not given me cause to doubt that decision. I hope for your sake that this will prove to be lapse that won't be repeated." He paused, considering his words. "You have prevailed over a River Lord. So, command of Golgorath is yours. But let me be clear of one thing: It is to be a fortress once more. A monument to the Imperium's power, not to your ego. No more games." And without a word, the other jackals began butchering the remainder of the slaves. Blood once more soaked the ground.
Some of the minions of the Shai'tan looked alarmed at the carnage. Some of the slaves tried to run, but they were quickly cut down. It was a blood bath. The wilddogs who had no foreknowledge of massacre stared in shock at the spray of blood and guts. The slaughter continued for some time, and Rish'ut stared, transfixed. He had held every one of those creature's lives in his paws. Seen them fight at die at his word. Now they were slaughtered. There was so much blood, even the dust of the Outlands seemed red.
"You offered them a choice, Rish'ut. Blood or service. I make no such bargains. I demand loyalty. You offered them hope. That was your mistake and one I shall not have repeated. I shall see it snuffed out. No more games. No more pretending. No more holding court. This is what the Imperium demands." He loomed over them. "Have I made myself understood?"
"Yes, Emperor." The words were so soft, he almost whispered them. The Emperor didn't seem satisfied.
"You already killed one in seven of them, before their outbreak. I remain tempted to order the same for your minions, Rish'ut, as punishment for their failure. And perhaps to impress upon you just how expendable one in seven really is, my friend." He turned to Mortread. "You have your orders. I want this mess cleaned up. I have plans, Mortread, and I shall not tolerate any further failure that delays them. Rish'ut. I want you to amass the wilddogs and whosoever else you can get your paws on. Then I want you to hunt down the escapees who you have allowed to slip through your grasp. I want them dead. I want Zira dead. I want those lionesses dead. I want those prisoners dead. And I want the head of the Prince of the Pridelands. I don't want to see your face again until that is achieved. Am I understood?" He asked him.
"By your command." He nodded. The Emperor stared at the other assembled creatures. With a snort, he departed. For a solid ten seconds, there was stillness. Then Mortread let out a breath.
He sank to the ground and let out a grimace. Cautiously, perhaps even bravely, Harrin approached the two Shai'tan.
"My Lords?" he asked them. Mortread clutched a paw to his side, and blood flowed between his claw tips.
"Well." Mortread said momentarily. "That could have gone better." He said lightly. Rish'ut growled.
"Congratulations, regent." He sneered. His eye still hurt, but it wasn't damaged. That was good. Mortread turned to Harrin.
"Pack-Leader Harrin. Gather your warriors, and as much as the other as we can spare. Lord Rish'ut has a journey ahead of him." He said.
"I don't need your help." Rish'ut growled. Mortread shrugged. Rish'ut glared at the rest of the warriors of the Imperium and pointed a clawed paw at the leader of the cheetah coalition.
"You! What is your name?" He asked him.
"Jahi, my lord. I have served since the fall of Pride Rock." He said, carefully. One of the newcomers, who had joined the Imperium after their conquest. But it wasn't the speed of their allegiance Rish'ut was interested in, just the speed of their pack. Nothing that ran on land could outrun a cheetah. Not for long.
"They will be slow, with as many wounded as they had with them. How soon can your fellows be ready to depart?" He asked him.
"Dawn tomorrow, my Lord." Jahi assured him.
"That had better be true, Jahi." Rish'ut said. He turned his attention back to Mortread. He glanced as blood continued to trickle down his thigh.
"Do you require a healer?" He asked him, almost challenging him. Mortread glared back.
"I will be just fine. My body is as healthy as your ego. Look to your own ambitions, Rish'ut." He warned him. Rish'ut growled softly, then turned around. He almost called for Mzingo, before recalling that the vulture had been killed. They needed new birds in the skies as soon as it could be achieved. Perhaps Leviath could be induced to part with one of her many spies. He made his way back to the tower, and to the gateway that joined Golgorath to the rest of the Imperium. Mortread didn't follow him. He looked around at the carnage, and quickly gave orders that the bodies be piled high with the rest of the dead. At least they would not want for meat for a while.
"My Lord. Do you require a healer?" Harrin asked, cautiously. Mortread hesitated for a moment.
"Find me someone who can find me some tuliza." He said after a moment. "And pick out a second. Someone competent that you can trust, to hunt down those cubs." Cubs. Harrin didn't like the feeling that twisted in the pit of his stomach when he said that. He thought back to the girl, Sara, and what had happened in the tower. Entreating her mother to spare his life. Astoundingly she had. She would regret that, he thought.
"You're not sending me with him?" Harrin asked.
"I have other uses for you."
With the Shai'tan departed, the cheetahs looked at one another in surprise.
"We are being dispatched to hunt down the survivors? The Shai'tan usually use us as messengers. Rish'ut always said that we didn't have to fight if we served instead." One of the cheetahs said, cautiously.
"Looks like things will be changing quickly. Rish'ut isn't in command of Golgorath anymore. I think the Emperor is taking command of the Pridelands himself." Jahi said after a moment.
"He's still in command of us though, so watch your words." His brother told him.
"Did you hear that, Jahi?" The youngest of the cheetahs was looking about excitedly. Now that the Emperor had gone and the grim miasma of his presence had passed, he was shaking himself out of the fear and dread that had gripped him.
"Be quiet Talib!" The leader of the cheetahs, the one he had addressed as Jahi, urged him. He glanced around furtively. None of the wilddogs seemed to be paying attention, but whispers had a way of getting back to the Shai'tan's senior underlings. Next to him, his brother Sadaka blinked. He kept a straighter face, but even so he looked surprised.
"I thought the Lion Kings were dead, and we were just hunting down survivors. That's what the Shai'tan told us." He muttered, speaking softer now. Jahi hummed to himself. He thought back a few moons where his coalition of cheetahs had been assigned to some of the other pack leaders. They had stumbled across a rogue lioness and only a flash of mercy on his part had prevented the unfortunate creature from being dragged before the Shai'tan. With a sudden start, he considered the grim possibility that that had been one of the Pridelander survivors that the Shai'tan were so desperately hunting. He felt a little faint at the prospect. If that had somehow gotten back to Harrin or any of the other more senior pack leaders, then he would have been in lethal danger.
"Apparently not." He said to his young ward. "It looks like we missed one." He was expressionless, but his mind was whirring with the possibilities. Talib shuddered.
"I knew it." He hissed. "I knew the Pridelanders weren't finished!"
"Shut up!" Jahi hissed urgently. "Keep your mouth silent! Remember what I told you! Don't give them any reason to think you're anything other than a loyal servant of the Imperium. Don't let them question for a moment that you are anything other than another of my sons! Don't think, don't breath a word of it!"
"Right. Sorry Jahi." He said. He couldn't help it. The boy had always been an excitable child, ever since he had known him. He swallowed. Jahi knew he was right. But even so, he too felt a little lump forming inside of his stomach.
Alive.
The Imperium were hardly the finest masters. They ruled entire continents. He had done what was best for his family. What they needed to do to stay alive. Talib included. But they were alive.
His other sons looked to him for reassurance. His mate glanced away. They were looking to him.
"Now." Yessen's voice was distant. Sundar struggled to hear it. "Focus on my voice. Just my words. Don't let there be anything else in this moment except for yourself, and my words." She struggled. She could still feel the ground beneath her feet, still hear the winds around her. In fact, with her eyes closed she was aware of all sorts of things that she could usually ignore. She could hear her own heartbeat behind her eyes, sense a fly crawl across her fur that she didn't dare flick away. Smell a piece of meat that one of the lionesses was eating. It was harder than it sounded. She focused on the well of power within her, teasing it out, fanning it like a spark into a flame. She grasped it with her mind, and opened her eyes.
In front of her, Yoddha looked a little bit worried. The lioness was trying not to look anxious, and was holding a paw up to her. The paw had been badly sprained in some accident or other whilst hunting, and Yessen had decided it was a good opportunity to see her use her abilities in person. Yoddha hadn't objected. They knew that Danyal hadn't been hurt by her abilities. Quite a crowd had gathered to watch. Lukaan paced up and down with anxiety. Makini sat with a bundle of berries and was picking them one at a time, enthralled by the entire spectacle. Rafiki sat crossed legged, and Yessen stood in front of her, hunched over his bakora staff. He grinned at her.
"You have it. Now. Do what you did to Danyal. Don't burn her." He told her.
"Burn me?!" Yoddha asked, startled. Sundar gritted her teeth and tried to nudge the power she had gathered into her. Yoddha flinched as he felt the energies touch her. Like cold flames. They ran along the sprain, bringing with them a numbing sensation. She made an audible gasp, and flicked her wrist slightly, testing the sprain. Sundar groaned, and Yessen cleared his throat.
"Stop when you need to, girl." Yessen ordered her, and after a few moments, Sundar let out a gasp of held air, and the azure luminance winked out as if it had never been there. Makini dropped her fruits, and rushed to Sundar, placing a hand of her shoulder.
"Sundar! Are you alright?" She gasped.
"I'm okay." She said, wincing. Truthfully that had taken more out of her then she had expected. She looked to Yoddha. "How are you feeling? Any change?"
Yoddha flexed her wrist and winced. "Still a little sore, but much better! Thank you!" She said, bowing her head in reverence and limping away. There was a modest improvement but not much. She sighed.
"Don't be discouraged, young Sundar." Rafiki said. "This is the start of a long journey for you."
"I don't understand it. It was only a sprain." Danyal said, from where he had been sitting. "I've seen you do more than that in a few seconds.
"From first paw experience you mean?" Yessen said, his eye brows arched. Sundar nodded. It was disappointing. She had hoped she would be able to heal her friends and family, but so far, the only person she had been reliably able to help was Danyal, with his wounds and various scars. For everyone else, it was as if there was something blocking her. Stopping the power, she set fourth before it got there and leaving her exhausted and bereft. "Perhaps your close bond with Danyal is what helps you, hmm?" Rafiki asks her. "After all, you have seen his minds, his presence in the twilight realm." He told her. Sundar swallowed. It was true that Danyal had shared personal things with her. They had been getting closer. Maybe that had something to do with it.
"Maybe…" She said, dubiously. Yessen clapped his hands together.
"Well. In the meantime, perhaps we should turn our attentions to other things."
"Oooh! Oooh!" Makini asked. "Are you going to teach her to touch the spirit world?" She asked excitedly.
"Not quite. Quite the reverse. The Great Kings and Spirits are silent now, but the material world speaks always to any who have ears to listen, yes?" Rafiki said. He placed his hand on the ground. "Reach out." He said. "And listen."
Danyal watched as Sundar did as she was bidden and closed her eyes. She swayed slightly on the spot. The words of the Shaman didn't make much sense to him. They were full of spiritual mumbo jumbo, talking about the circle of life and the interconnectedness of all things. He knew about the circle of life of course. At least the straightforward version every cub in the Pridelands was taught from an early age. He had found it difficult to picture until he had arrived in the Pridelands.
He moved away from the Shaman were standing, stretching as he did so. Giving himself some distance from the others. He didn't want them to see what he did next. It was never especially fun for him and it was even worse to be seen to be doing in front of anyone other than Makini or Sundar.
Thanks to the two of them he had a series of exercises to do. Pulling at injured limbs, one after the other. It was painful. He felt his muscles clench and spasm as he moved them. They had healed – or partly at any rate. But they still burned and twisted with pain when he moved them. Makini told them it would take time for them to heal properly, to learn how to be used again. That the new muscles and sinews needed to be pulled and stretched and worked until they could function again. The pain hadn't faded yet. Nor had the stiffness. But that wasn't the worst part of it. He felt like a child learning to walk again. Stumbling along. Or a lionesses four times his age, at the end of her life. Slow and feeble. The others would offer to help him, but that somehow made it worse. Still. Makini said it was important. And he trusted Makini completely. Kion's Mjuzi might not be a Shaman but she was a talented healer.
"Are you okay Danyal?"
Gah!
She was also incredibly stealthy when she wanted to be. He moved faster than he had moved since his injuries and glared at her. He hadn't realised the mandril was following.
"I thought you were watching your master and Sundar?" He asked her. Makini shrugged.
"I spotted you leaving and followed. It was tricky to watch." She sighed wistfully. "Sundar has no idea how lucky she is. I spent years learning under Rafiki, just to hear the faintest whisper of the Great Kings. The slightest shuffle in the spirit world. To her the entire earth must be shouting at her! It's amazing. To feel it." She shook her head in awe clearly unable to have the words.
"She's definitely something." Danyal said, wincing and he did so, trying to pull the stiffness out of his shoulder. Makini frowned and inched towards him.
"I'm fine." He told her. "Just… stiff." He was already out of breath too. Makini looked back behind her to the distant tree of life. He knew she was contemplating how much he had improved in recent days. But she didn't say anything. She knew he wasn't interested in hearing how much better at shambling in a straight line he was now compared to a few weeks ago.
"Here." She said, looking at his obvious discomfort. "Sit down. Breath out. Let me try something." She said. Danyal thought she was going to offer him some vile tasting leaf or awful poultice, though he couldn't see on her. Instead, she reached out with her hands. She didn't touch his wide wounds (which were mercifully clean of dried blood and foul rot), but instead the surrounding muscle.
"What are you – Ugh." He grunted as she suddenly pinched and pressed at the taught and stiff muscle. Without a word, she worked at muscle, pressing, and moving it, hands moving between delicate touch and harsh pressing. She moved his arm at the shoulder, and feeling the joint and the muscle. Quite what she did, Danyal couldn't say, but as she manipulated the muscle, he felt the stiffness and soreness fade away. He grunted.
"Wow. Makini that's… nice." He said.
"Hang on. This bit is still stiff." She said working at it.
"What are – Gahhhh." Danyal let out a gasp, as the muscle finally relaxed and had to bite back an extremely undignified purr. Makini giggled.
"Did that get it?" She asked him.
"…Yeah. That did it." Danyal said. Hands. Who knew? Great Kings that was magical. More effective than any combination of horrible tasting herbs and leaves healers typically insisted upon. "… Thank you. Where did you learn to do that?" He asked her. Makini sat up, and looked out at the Nightlands, deep in thought.
"Don't mention it. It won't do anything by itself, but it should help it feel a bit less stiff whilst you're getting back use of your injured limbs." She said. "Us Pridelanders have to stick together, eh?"
She pondered his question. "I was Kion's Mjuzi even before he became King of the Night Pride remember? He and his guard would sometimes come back hurt. Bloody or bruised. It's not how they tell it in the stories you know." She said, thinking to herself. "You know, where if they got hurt, they would shake it off in a few days. Sometimes they'd come back badly hurt. Fuli once broke her paw and was out of action for a moon. Kion once got into a scrap with an Outsider lioness. I can remember a time that, Rani got into a duel with that wicked snow leopard, Chuluun. The snows were red for days. She didn't like stretching afterwards either." She said.
"I don't think I know that one." Danyal said. He had told every story he knew about the Lion Guard several times over to the cubs. Even the ones who strained his credulity.
"Hah. People tend to like the tales where Kion saved the day. Not the ones he nearly lost his life over a poached ibex." Makini said. Might even have been Vitani, he never. I got quite good at treating them. Even in the Night Pride." She said after a moment. "You remind me of him sometimes. You know that." She said. Danyal almost laughed, but stopped himself when he realised, she was totally serious.
"Now you're sounding as crazy as Rafiki." He said.
"I mean it, Danyal. I know its hard. But it will be alright in the end. You don't need to be so brooding all the time." She told him.
"I don't brood." Danyal said. Makini fixed him with a scowl.
"Danyal, you carry a storm cloud around with you wherever you go. You're a zebra stripe away from sulking." She teased him, poking him.
"What's this about zebras?" A voice called out them. The two of them turned and saw Sundar approaching them. Apparently, she had finished her lessons now. Makini winked at Danyal playfully, and changed the subject.
"Nothing!" She said. "So. What did the winds say?" Makini said, genuinely curious. Sundar looked unsure. Sundar wasn't sure if she was making fun of her or not, but answered seriously.
"I don't know how to describe it. It wasn't with words. Or pictures. I think there's going to be a thunderstorm soon. But I couldn't tell you how I knew. That's just how it feels. Not for a few days yet. We'll need to stay back form the rivers." She said. "Oh good. You're ready." Sundar said, approaching from behind them.
"Ready for what?" He asked her. Sundar cocked her head.
"Oh, I thought you'd already started." She said, looking to Makini.
"Oh! Aren't you worn out from earlier? Are you sure you can manage it?" Danyal asked her, worried. Sundar nodded. Her eyes were tired, but her soft smile was genuine.
"Just don't tell my Father." She said. She breathed out. The light was quick to form now. Twice as quick as it had before, as if called forth at a fourth. It flickered for a moment, but then she held it.
"Lets get started." She said; and Danyal's eyes lit up as well. Makini chuckled as the brooding cloud was dispelled, for a little while further.
That evening, long after they had finished Danyal tossed and turned in his sleep. Or tried to sleep. It wasn't his injuries. Those were fine. Or as fine as he could expect. He put it out of his mind. No, it was something that Makini had said. No matter what he did, it did no good. He was exhausted but he simply couldn't get his mind to unfocus. He looked around at the other lionesses. They were kind. But they weren't his Pride. Maybe that was why he got on so well with Makini. She wasn't a lioness, but she understood that feeling. Us Pridelanders have to stick together she had said. They might be all that was left.
The treacherous thought came back to him in the night. He wondered if the cubs were okay. If Almasi, Damu and Vitani had managed to find and rescue the twins. If Kion had managed to find Zuri and Kiava. What if they had both failed? What if they were dead?
The thought was sobering.
What if he was the last Pridelander? Was he even that? He had told Sundar how he had come to the Pridelands. He had been born in the Outlanders. Some of the less friendly lionesses had never let him forget that growing up. Maybe the Pridelands were really gone for good.
He shook himself. He couldn't think like that. That would mean that Kiava was dead. That the other cubs were dead. That Almasi and the lionesses were dead. He couldn't believe that.
He growled to himself and hauled himself to his feet and looked up at the stars high in the heavens. They stared down at him, burning cold. He wandered from the den, passed over Lukaan's sleeping form, and made his way outside. The wind blew through his mane but he paid it no mind. He was no shaman. Maybe one day Sundar would be able to hear the voices of the Kings in the winds of the Pridelands, like Rafiki did? He wondered what they would say to him. Would they offer words of encouragement to him? Tell him to be strong? That the cubs and the lionesses were safe and would be back soon? Or would they condemn him for his failure to protect them in the first place? For lying about uselessly when everyone else was being useful. He flexed his back limbs. They were mostly healed now, but his body still felt unbalanced. The wounds on his back were scarred over but red and raw still even with Sundar's daily shamanism. If he pulled them open again, Sundar would see and doubtlessly berate him for it. To say nothing of what Makini would do.
He ground his teeth. Stuff it. And moved. Slowly at first, but then with more speed. There was a warped gait to his jog. But he moved with more speed than he had in a while. Some of the muscles screeched in agony at their treatment but he pushed through it. He pushed through the pain with a gasp. He didn't have a direction. He just moved. He nearly went to find Makini or Sundar, but they would doubtlessly be sleeping. That would be unfair. He grunted and winced at he did so, but he moved. He stopped at a small outcrop of rocks, and looked out over the Nightpride. Kion's former desolate kingdom. It was late, but he didn't care. He let out a shout of frustration that turned into a roar. Several sleeping birds erupted from the grasslands in squawking panic. He growled in frustration, then he paused. As the reverberations of his roar faded, he became aware of other noises. Grunts. The sounds of a struggle. An angry growl. The sound that must have been claws slamming into the ground, nearby. His entire body tensed. Someone was here. Someone was fighting. Even as he thought it, the wind changed direction, and he was hit by the scent of lion. Lionesses. Unmistakably asiatics.
He turned and without thinking rushed towards the sounds of fighting and was stunned by what he saw.
A short distance away, in a secluded spot, concealed by another outcrop of rocks and bounders and not far from one of the myriad of streams and rivulets that speared the Nightlands, he could make out the forms of lionesses. It was one of Sundar's pridesisters, a lioness who he barely interacted with, but whose name he thought was Bhaala. Helio was kneeling over her, pinning her to the ground and for an embarrassing moment Danyal thought he had caught the two of them in a compromising position. But standing nearby were Harten, Yoddha. The later looked up at his arrival and immediately gasped, looking guilty.
"Slayer!" She gasped. This prompted Helio to look up and Bhaala took the opportunity to swipe his feet from under him and extract herself from under him. Helio stumbled and snarled as she swiped him across the jaw, but then she too noticed Danyal's arrival and paused. Helio detached himself and glared at Danyal.
"Danyal! What are you doing up?" He asked him. Danyal looked around at the four of them.
"I could ask the same of you! What is all this?" He asked. The three lionesses looked at each other unsure. Each of them held the same guilty expression.
"I… err…" Bhaala trailed off. Helio however looked confidently at him.
"What does it look like? We are training." He told him, challenging him. Danyal paused.
"Training?"
"That's right." Harten said, nodding. "We've been training ever since we came here. By moonlight. We weren't going to sit around doing nothing. We fled the Shai'tan before, but we know that sooner of later, we are going to have to face them again." She said. Danyal nodded slowly. He understood. It made sense. In fact, it was more than sensible. Vitani and Lukaan had decided to work together in the short term, and Lukaan made no secret of the fact that they considered the Pridelanders to be an ally against the Shai'tan. They were limited for now. With Kion gone and Vitani on her mission. But once they returned – and he reminded himself that they would return – they would need to plan their next move. Distant glimmerings of hope stirred within him. Hopes he hadn't allowed himself to fixate on too firmly, lest he cause himself disappointment later.
"Does Lukaan know about this?" Danyal asked him, stalling for time. Yoddha flushed guiltily.
"Prince Lukaan might not approve of this. But we felt that… well. We could at least get a head start." She said. She was nursing a paw. So that was where she had been wounded.
"If you ask me, we are being too patient. Too cautious. We ought to be planning our next move. Taking the fight to the Shai'tan. But. He said slowly. We have a bargain with Vitani. We aren't going to abandon you, or Kion or the others. And until we hear back from her, or know for sure she is dead, Lukaan doesn't want us going anywhere. He's… probably… right." Helio said, begrudgingly. "So, we're training in the meantime. Satisfied? Care to leave us alone now?" He asked him. Danyal swallowed. Then nodded his head.
"I want in." Danyal told him. Helio barked a laugh. Yoddha and Bhaala glanced at each other, and Yoddha had a pitying expression that Danyal wasn't fond of.
"Don't be absurd." Helio snapped.
"I mean it." Danyal protested.
"No, you don't. You? You're in no condition to be fighting anyone." He told him.
"And I never will be at this rate. Please Helio, I need this." Danyal said.
"I mean, I would be honoured if –" Yoddha began but Helio cut across her.
"No! Yoddha, this is serious! We aren't playing games, this is real, these matters and I'm not going to indulge you when you can't so much as lift your paw over your head. I know you were wounded fighting Sekhmet, and I am not saying that wasn't brave! Wasn't impressive! But you're..."
"Crippled." Danyal said. The lionesses glanced away. "That's what you're trying to say aren't you? I'm crippled. Even with Sundar's help. All I'm good for is dragging my body around and eating other people's food." He said.
"I never said that."
"But you were thinking it, weren't you?" Danyal said. Helio didn't reply. He simply shook his head. Danyal growled. He could tell Lukaan. Lukaan wouldn't think much of Helio holding secret training sessions in the middle of the night, even with good intentions. He hadn't technically declared they were joining the conflict on the side of the Pridelands yet, and he was very averse to the idea of seeking out a fight with the Shai'tan instead of running and hiding and keeping as many of the asiatic lionesses alive as possible. He doubted he would stop the sessions. But he would be very disappointed in Helio going behind his back. And that was something Helio didn't want.
But that wouldn't get him what he wanted. It would just hurt Helio. He growled in anger.
"I don't care what you think of me, Helio. Even crippled I am more than a match for you."
"Oh yeah?" Helio asked. "Prove it. Why don't you show me?" Helio goaded him. "If you really want to? If you think you can handle it." Danyal let out a breath.
"We're still alive for a reason Helio. Pridelanders don't die easily." He said, making up his mind. Danyal said, and Helio ducked as Danyal swiped at him. He danced back with infuriating nimbleness.
"That's more like it!" he said. Danyal's back hurt, but he pushed through it again. He needed this. He had to have this. Walking up and down, day in day out. Stretching. Being poked and prodded by Shaman and Mjuzi. He couldn't put up with that any more. He needed to do something. To feel like he was doing something. And this was it. The next time they fought the Shai'tan, he would be ready! Helio met his swipe and twisted, hurling him to the side. Danyal landed with a thump, and one of the lionesses gave a cry of alarm but Danyal was smiling as he pulled himself to his feet. And like that, he was training. Their discussion was forgotten. Oh, Helio was running rings around him. But that wasn't the point. He was fighting again. And that felt good even through the arduous pain. Helio growled at him and lunged once more, snapping at his throat. Danyal was too slow to pull back and Helio gripping at his neck. He hauled him to the side, and leapt atop him. Danyal could feel his breath hot against face. Helio's eyes were glowing with fierce intensity.
"There." Helio said. After a moment. "Do you see now?"
"See what?" Danyal said, pulling free, and lowering himself into a crouch.
"Slayer…" Yoddha muttered, but Bhaala held her back.
"No. He knows what he's doing." She said, looking concerned. Danyal stayed crouched. Helio snarled and clawed at him. This time, Danyal moved quickly, and ducked to the side, and struck back. He was smiling.
"You ought to know when you're beaten." Helio said.
"Nah." Danyal said. "Not me. You gonna try again?" He asked. His tail swishing in expectation. Helio flushed in annoyance. It didn't matter how many bouts he won. He had lost the argument.