A/N: Welcome back to this week's chapter of The Guardian, beginning with another sort of dream sequence. I'll respond to your reviews and then we'll continue with the story.

Jestalnaker94000: Thank you, though I'd appreciate it if you told me exactly what you thought was good about the chapter and what you think could be improved. And yes, as an aside, I think Morgan is my favourite character to come out of the first rewrite, even though it went so far. I hope for their sake that they don't meet him again to find out.

Jason Chandler: I know. Who said that living in a realm ruled by a pride of lions was going to be fun and exciting? Not me! And I have a feeling that there will be little room for respite.

"No..."

Allowing myself to drift on the surface of the Slumber Sea, something lifted me from the water, like a bird trying to carry me to consciousness. I was too heavy for the bird to carry me, so it gently lay me on the surface again.

"Don't leave me!"

But the bird attempted once more to lift me from the surface. This time, I could feel the coldness of the air against my forehead. Again, I was too heavy, but this time, the bird dropped me from a great height, and I could now feel the airs, silent and otherwise, of the waking world.

"No, let me go!"

Before I could impact the surface, I was picked up again, and despite my weight, the bird attained an ever greater height, before letting me go, letting me hurtle to the sea.

"MUUUUM!"

"MUUUM!"

My body jolted and I flinched, my arms covering my face in an instinctive reaction to the tsunami of sound coming from my right. The blanket that was previously covering both Morgan and me to our necks was now disturbed and covered only up to my stomach, leaving my chest vulnerable to the elements. I looked to my right, and to my surprise, I saw Morgan, wide awake and breathing heavily while he stared unblinkingly at the ceiling of the cave.

"Morgan?" I whispered, trying to earn his attention. While I was successful, upon seeing my face, it evidently did not bring comfort and reassurance but compounded his frightened state. So much so, he almost jumped to his feet and edged backwards towards the entrance to the cave.

"Morgan, what's gotten into you?" I asked quietly. Was he still in the trance of a dream?

"Stay away from me! You took me away from my mum!" he cried.

I immediately put an index finger to my mouth. "You're going to wake everyone up!" I growled.

"I need to get back to my mum!" he shouted again, at no smaller of a volume.

"You need to get back in here now before someone wakes up," I insisted, unsure whether it would help to remind him that his mother was killed in the plane crash in which we were the only survivors.

"No, she's waiting for me! She wants me to meet her in the canyon!" he cried before he ran off down the slope from the promontory of Pride Rock.

"Fuck," I deadpanned. This was not good. He was going to see the plane wreck with his mother's charred corpse. But that begs another question - why does he think his mother is still alive? Is it something to do with his dream?

And then it dawned on me. He may have P.T.S.D., the same condition as me!

"Oh, shit!" I gasped, holding a hand over my mouth.

"What's the matter?" I heard a voice from behind and gasped. I turned around to see Sarafina, who bore a concerned look on her face. Her bright blue eyes glistened in the moonlight. I sighed and swallowed.

"It's Morgan," I began. "I think he's had a nightmare that has frightened him so much, he's run away," I reported.

"Oh, my... the poor thing," Sarafina gasped with a saddened voice.

"And I..." I had a thought that almost floored me, but it was better left unsaid. "I think... I know where he's going."

The long grass tickled my shins as I and Sarafina ran towards the place from which Morgan and I emerged after the harrowing incident that changed our lives forever.

I had good reason to believe that he was having an episode of PTSD. Irrationality, distressing dreams, all of this after a physically traumatic incident and an emotionally scarring incident - surviving a plane crash and losing your own mother.

"We're going to the canyon?" Sarafina surmised between breaths. She was a few metres to my left, so had to raise her voice, but still tried to keep a limit on her volume, as to not disturb any animal's sleep.

"Yeah, that's where we woke up when we came to the Pride Lands," I replied.

"Entrance to the canyon is forbidden," Sarafina informed me. "But... I do know how to get down there," she grinned as if remembering a memory of her younger, mischievous self.

"Lead the way, Sarafina," I charged her. Her agile body allowed her to swiftly change direction to her left, whereas I had to change direction with an outward curve but still managed to keep up with her pace. I didn't know at this moment whether this was not normal, but I now know that I was running faster than any human being could ever run. This only happened when someone I cared about was in danger - I'm not sure if I cared for Morgan at this moment, but I didn't want him to come to harm and felt that I had a duty to protect him, for he had nobody else in this world to perform that duty.

"It's down here," Sarafina alerted after a few minutes of running. As we got closer to the rim of the canyon, we could see a range of uneven steps that a human child could jump down individually, and at the foot of these steps was the small figure of Morgan.

"There he is!" I exclaimed, pointing down the canyon.

"We must retrieve him before he hurts himself down there, it's no place for a young one, believe me," Sarafina said before jumping down the steps. I followed close behind her.

I descended the uneven and irregular steps by sitting on the edge and sliding off. The dust and sand that sat on the steps began to collect on my hands, and I rubbed them on my jeans. Sarafina and I looked at each other, wondering who would advance to speak to him. I inhaled before stepping forward.

"Morgan?" I asked.

His shivering intensified before he turned his head slightly.

"She's not here..." he whimpered. I put a hand on his shoulder and he turned to face me.

"That's where you're wrong," I replied gently. He looked at me in confusion. "She's in here," I put my finger to his heart. "She'll always be in your heart, her memory and wisdom will be with you for as long as you live," I assured him. He looked to his feet.

"I lost my mother, eight years ago," I made him aware. He looked up at me as if he saw his future self in me.

"Does it get better?" he asked, referring to the tormenting grief.

I nodded slowly. "It doesn't go away completely," I replied with honesty.

Sarafina looked on sympathetically, perhaps familiar with our pain. But she then sniffed the air, and her reaction was that of a mix of disgust and panic.

"Uh, guys, we need to leave, there are..." she was cut off by an echo of the yipping of jackals. Morgan planted himself against my waist as I held his small, cold hands.

"Shit..." I whispered harshly, looking around frantically. Part of me didn't want to see the jackals, most likely intent on harming us, but the lack of knowledge of where they were was more terrifying. At one time, it sounded as if the jackals were just about to turn the corner about a hundred yards to my right, and at another, it sounded as if they were standing on the top of the canyon wall behind us.

"Well, look at what we stumbled on, Chukua," a feminine voice of cunning and malice spoke. The wind carried it down from above, near the steps from which we descended.

"Looks like a meal walked right into the plate," a second voice, of equal spitefulness, yet that of a male, commented.

"Uh... what's a plate?" I heard a second, higher-pitched male voice ask.

"Shut up, let's get down there," the first male commanded before he jumped onto a range of descending columns, and by the time we thought to run either direction down the canyon, we saw three jackals either way. My heart sank. We were trapped.

"Chukua, see to the weird hairless baboons," the female jackal's voice spoke the order. She stood in an authoritative position in the formation, suggesting that she was the leader of the pack. Her tan fur was complemented with a black line that ran along her spine, ending at a v-shaped fringe on her forehead, with three dots of black fur on each side.

"Yes, Hila," the jackal, known as Chukua, replied as he jumped from the last stack onto the floor of the canyon, carpeted with dust and sand.

"Morgan, whatever you do, stay behind me and don't run," I ordered the frightened child as I felt his hand shiver in fear.

I tried to put on a facade of courage and defiance in the face of a snarling jackal who looked at me with malice.

"I don't know what the fuck you are, but you look tasty," Chukua spoke as a growl escaped his mouth before he ran at me and leapt with claws unsheathed, his ready to tear into my neck. I dodged his attack by leaning on my right leg and then twisting my body to thrust my left leg backwards, into his left side. This sent him skidding onto the floor. For a moment, I could see Sarafina swatting away a jackal, sending it flying several feet to her right, before she jumped up and raised her mighty paw, then bringing it down, roaring as it clashed against the cheek of a jackal was slammed against the ground. I stopped watching Sarafina when I heard Chukua's growl of frustration and embarrassment after he recovered from my counter-attack.

"You're only making your death come sooner," he warned. I smirked.

"I don't fear death," I claimed. I wasn't sure if it was true, or if I was just saying it to sound courageous in front of Morgan. The jackal barked as he charged at me and leapt at me again. As it leapt at me, I spun my body to dodge the new attack, and before I was halfway through the spin, I extended my right arm and flattened my hand, and it collided with Chukua's neck. A strange gag-like sound came from his throat, which he held with his paw. He must have felt a pain that felt like he was being strangled. I had taught myself self-defence, ever since an incident involving my brother and a gang back in London, but hadn't yet put it into practice, for I had not got myself into a situation where they were necessary until now. I ran over to Morgan to see if he was distressed or in pain.

"I'm scared Alex!" he cried, trying to make himself heard over the roars, yips and barks. Before I could respond, a force with what felt like four epicentres pushed me to the floor, and as soon as I turned onto my back, I was pinned to the floor by two jackals that appeared identical to each other.

"NO!" I heard Morgan yell. This caused the jackals to face him, and before they could flee before the wrath of Morgan, he clattered into both of them, sending himself and his two targets rolling over my body. While the jackals were able to recover after simply shaking their heads of their dizziness, Morgan was clutching his broken arm, almost crying. The jackals advanced toward Morgan, and my heart sank.

"Don't hurt him, please!" I pleaded as I got up to my feet. "He's only a child, a pup, and he's hurt," I tried to convince them. At this moment, the fact that animals could talk, just as humans could, was temporarily not a foreign concept. They looked at each other, before looking at Morgan with a hint of sympathy before they ran off to the centre of the conflict. Sarafina looked to be holding her own, but there was always a jackal preparing an attack that would be easily countered, but the sheer volume would be exhausting in a matter of minutes. I rushed over to see what damage was done to Morgan. He was writhing around on the floor, whimpering in pain as he held his broken arm.

"Alex, it hurts so much!" he cried in agony. I was unsure as to what I should do. Should I seek Rafiki's remedies? I didn't know if the route that we took to enter the canyon was still blocked, or where the next available exit was. Would the jackals chase us down before we could escape? And even if we did escape, would Sarafina be able to escape also? Would she be forced to fend for herself? How long could she last against what were around ten jackals? By the time these questions ran their course in my mind, Morgan alerted me to a harrowing revelation.

"Uh, Alex, they've stopped attacking the lioness and they're now charging at us."

When I turned around, my heart sank again.

"No, wait! Don't hurt them, please!" I could hear Sarafina plead desperately. I prepared for a wall of teeth, claws and muscles to slam against my being, pinning me to the floor while their jaws clamp down on my stomach and extremities, exposing the contents of my abdomen before my very eyes, but that didn't come, and to be honest, I wasn't sure if I should be relieved. Instead, they split into two groups of five or six, and they both ran around Morgan and me several times before we were completely encircled. They then turned to face Sarafina.

"If you try anything, we'll kill them both," the jackal that had been called Hila warned the lioness who looked on, feeling desperately helpless.

"Why are you holding us hostage? What do you want from us?" Sarafina asked with a mournful voice as if we were already brutally slain.

"We demand the compensation that was promised to us after our ancestors' sacrifice in the War of Creation," Hila declared.

My heart thumped against my chest as I spun my body to see a ring of growling jackals encircle myself and the whimpering child who was huddled against my leg, clutching his injured arm.

"Alex... are we going to die?" Morgan whispered, his voice coated with fear.

I wanted to share the surety of the answer that I would give Morgan, but the idea that death by jackals tearing flesh from my limbs wasn't easily dismissed. The culprits and situation were before me and were more likely than not to come to pass. I lowered myself to meet Morgan's frightened eyes of dark brown.

"We will live to see the other side of this moment," I promised.

Morgan looked to the floor, rubbing his broken arm. "It still hurts... has it been broken even more?" he gasped. I guessed that he feared that the recovery would be extended.

"I... don't know," I said honestly, for I was no doctor or GP. "Thank you for doing that, as foolish as it was," I smiled as I brushed dirt out of his brown hair.

"I'm cold," Morgan announced sheepishly.

In response, I sat down next to Morgan, and extended my arm around his back, reaching to the top of his arm before rubbing it to create heat.

"That's making my arm hurt," Morgan responded, and I almost immediately stopped.

"Sorry," I apologised before I took my jacket that I had donned before Sarafina and I ran off to fetch Morgan from the canyon that we were now trapped in, and I placed it around Morgan. The jacket was still littered with tears and bloodstains from the crash itself.

"That's better, thanks," Morgan smiled slightly as he gripped the left side of my jacket.

"What do you think you're doing?!" Hila's sudden interjection made me shoot up to my feet, standing in front of Morgan, who was seething in pain, for Hila's voice made him flinch and involuntarily move his injured arm.

"He's cold so I gave him a piece of my clothing," I explained. Hila cocked a brow.

"Clothing? What's that?" the male jackal with a slightly higher pitched voice questioned.

"For once, Mjinga, you ask a question that isn't totally useless," Hila chuckled. "What is... 'clothing'?"

It was strange to be interrogated for such a trivial matter, but I remembered that animals had no concept of clothing.

"Humans like myself and the boy don't have furs like jackals or lions, so we put fabrics together to perform the same function as fur," I explained at length. The jackals looked at and whispered to each other when they found out exactly what we were.

"Thank you for enlightening us," Hila replied casually. She then ordered Mjinga to ensure that we stayed put before she made her way to face Sarafina. I didn't intend on making the situation worse by trying to escape, which would put Morgan or Sarafina in danger with no guarantee of everyone escaping. If one of us was left behind, our standing in the negotiation would be damaged. If they were hurt or killed because I prioritised my own life, being unable to save them, I would not forgive myself. I would stay put for now. Hila was now standing face-to-face in front of Sarafina. Despite the lioness' unflinching facade, she must have been just as anxious as we were.

"What are your demands?" she asked. Her voice was carried by the wind, along with the dust that was dancing on the floor.

"Our demands are that the agreed compensation is to be implemented in full, and for the delay, we will have extra hunting rights," Hila replied.

Sarafina blinked. "I- I'm not sure these demands are realistic," she stuttered nervously. Hila rolled her eyes.

"These terms aren't for you to answer, but your King," she replied.

Sarafina's ear twitched. Her eyes glanced up slightly. Her nose took in a whiff of the selection of odours in the air. Through the stench of jackals, she could detect the familiar scent of Mufasa. She smirked before saying,

"Why don't you deliver these terms yourself?"

Hila growled slightly as she turned her head to face the top of the canyon cliff and saw Mufasa accompanied by several lionesses that I couldn't identify, equally because of the position from which we were in the canyon, and I didn't recognise most of the lionesses yet.

"What is the meaning of this?" Mufasa's booming voice passed through the canyon, like a roll of thunder. I would not wish to be on the receiving end of his wrath.

"They trespassed into our territory," Hila claimed. I frowned at her accusation.

"This is not true!" I cried for everyone to hear, having a natural opposition to injustice and deception caused by words. "Morgan had some sort of episode and we found him here, and they surrounded us," I made it concise, deciding that the detail about Morgan's dream about his mother would more likely add unnecessary layers of information to absorb.

"The lioness hit me!" Mjinga whined. Hila rolled her eyes.

"What matters is that you are holding two guests of the realm, my guests, against their will, and they must be returned," Mufasa replied, looking to his paws for most of the duration of his words until facing intently at Hila.

"And what also matters is that you have an unpaid debt," Hila replied. "A place in the Pride Lands, a place in the Circle of Life, for our part in the War of Creation. A promise, so far unfulfilled," Hila added.

"Unfulfilled because you violated the terms of the promise when you decided to violate the Circle of Life by straying out of your preliminary role," Mufasa responded.

Morgan and I looked between the respective speakers, like spectating a tennis match at Wimbledon, and the proverbial rally was tense and fascinating to witness.

"Well, it seems as if we are at some sort of stalemate," Hila said sarcastically in response.

"If I may interject..." I erected my finger. "Both parties have outcomes that we wish to attain out of this, so what is stopping us from implementing them, and then we'll be off with the rest of our... evening," I suggested. Both Mufasa and Hila stared at me.

"As much as we wish for that to happen, crimes, unlike mistakes, are not atoned for by merely restoring the equilibrium - the crimes you have committed against the Circle of Life will not be atoned for when you return the humans, the punishment does not fit said crimes," Mufasa replied.

"If you are to punish us for your dishonour, you will not have your humans," Hila declared.

Mufasa sighed in exasperation. A lioness whispered a question into Mufasa's ear, to which the King responded with a lengthy stare at the floor before he nodded, triggering two lionesses to depart his side and disappear beyond the edge of the canyon wall.

"As long as you assume our guilt of your lack of honour, we will be keeping your human friends by our side," Hila declared with a smirk.

Morgan tugged on my finger and before I could divert my attention to what it was that he wanted my attention for, my eyes detected the top of a lioness' head. I pretended to not notice, as to not give away their presence. I began to slow my breathing in order to compose myself.

"Alex, my arm is beginning to really hurt," Morgan whispered, adding a quick wink afterwards. I knew what he was thinking, but I didn't know how he thought it would happen.

"Excuse me, Mjinga?" I asked and said jackal turned to face me.

"What do you want, human?" Mjinga asked with forced malice.

"You see... my friend here," I motioned to Morgan. "His arm is causing him a great deal of pain, so I was wondering if we could arrange for some pain relief to be retrieved for him?"

"Why should I allow that?" Mjinga asked.

"Because... it would be the honourable thing to do," I improvised, but luckily it seemed to work. The jackal seemed to look at the floor while he thought it over. It seemed to me that, deep in his heart, he knew this whole situation to be wrong.

"I'm sorry, but Hila said that we must watch you at all times," Mjinga said. I could even detect a sprinkle of sorrow in his voice.

"It doesn't have to be this way," Morgan piped up to my surprise. My eyes darted to him, wondering where he was going with this.

"You can choose a different path, one of friendship, peace and prosperity," Morgan replied.

The jackal identified as Chukua sighed. "I admire your optimism, kid, but this... this is the way things are," he said quietly.

"What if they don't have to be? What if you want something different?" Morgan persisted. I didn't expect this from the child.

"It's all we've ever known," Mjinga sighed.

"Well... it's about being brave and stepping out of your comfort zone, taking a stand and overthrowing the old ways," Morgan added. I now started to piece together his intentions, but they were quickly dashed.

"Look, kid, you're surprisingly eloquent and all, but if you know what's good for you, you'll keep your mouth shut," Chukua threatened.

"That's the thing, isn't it?" Morgan replied calmly. "When presented with something unfamiliar, you're initially afraid," he added.

Chukua then started to walk toward Morgan. In response, I placed myself between the jackal and Morgan, which caused the jackal to growl a little, but he didn't stop until his face was within inches of my knee.

"Listen here, kid, you have no idea of what we go through, what we have to do to survive or what has been done to us, so if you don't want me to rip your tongue out, I'd suggest keeping it behind your teeth," Chukua barked. I didn't care if he was my captor, this would not go unchecked.

"And if you threaten the boy again, I will knee you in your teeth," I warned. Chukua responded to this with a vicious growl.

"If we are able to kill you, I will make you watch as we slowly and meticulously devour the child before we do the same to you, only to leave you on the edge of death, begging for mercy," Chukua said with a voice as cold as the breeze that passed through the canyon. My face was filled with the heat of anger. They'd done it now. I thrust my knee into his mouth with such force that a yelp escaped his throat. I then got down on my knees and held him to the floor by his throat. The jackals appeared stunned at my sudden move and were visibly afraid as to what I might do next.

"I have seen the edge of death many times before, and here I stand," I said in a low voice. "NOW!" I yelled in the direction of the lionesses, who almost instantly leapt at the jackals, dispersing the circle.

Hila flinched at the new cacophony and gasped at what she saw. Her friends and family were being attacked, and the peaceful negotiation where she could have finally gotten what she was promised was fatally undermined. She took this as a personal insult.

"You bastard!" she barked at the King.

"This is not the way to foster reconciliation, Hila," Mufasa said calmly, ignoring the jackal's insult. "Now your debt to us is greater than ours is to you," he added.

Hila only growled. "This will not be forgotten, Mufasa," she stated before she turned and ran towards the conflict. "Retreat!" she ordered upon approaching the centre of the conflict. The lionesses allowed the jackals to escape. Some scurried away, others were swatted in the direction of their escape. They disappeared beyond the turn in the canyon, but their yips and barks lingered in the air long after they had left the scene. I ran to Morgan's side. He was holding his fractured arm and was in tears of agony.

"It h-hurts, Alex..." his voice was frustrated by crying.

"I know... we'll get you to Rafiki," I said as I put an arm under his back and his legs and gently lifted him onto his legs. "That was very brave, what you did," I complimented, ruffling his hair slightly.

"Or very stupid," Morgan chuckled. I smiled at his humour overcoming his pain.

"Where did you learn to speak like that?" I asked, referring to his attempt to convince Chukua to choose a different path.

"Oh... my uncle... is a politician, he took me to, um, Parliament... a few months ago and I... heard him speak like that," Morgan explained. He had calmed himself down but his voice was still littered with hiccups. His answer left me with another question.

"Who is your uncle?" I asked.

"John Richmond," he replied. I nodded. John Richmond was a Conservative MP for a constituency in Buckinghamshire. There were many issues where we disagreed, but he was a moderate conservative and served his constituents well.

"My grandfather was an MP in Berkshire, Richard Maximilian, also a Conservative," I said. "You know what, I think we should refrain from talking about politics at the moment, it's gotten us into enough trouble as it is," I chuckled. When we reached the steps that Morgan and I had used to enter the canyon, every time we came to a step, I gently lifted him up before I climbed up myself. When we ascended the final step, we happened upon Mufasa. The expression on his face read one of frustration. It felt as if at least a fraction was directed at me, and I looked at my feet, feeling like a child.

"Would you care to explain why you entered the canyon, an act that is forbidden?" his voice was low and his tone was accusatory.

"W-well, I-" I stuttered before Morgan interjected.

"It was my fault, sir," the boy said.

Mufasa cocked a brow as if he thought that Morgan was about to take the flack for what he thought was my error. "How so?" he asked.

"I had a bad dream and I was in some sort of trance and I made my way here," Morgan replied. "Sarafina can attest to what I say," he added.

In response, Mufasa turned to face Sarafina, who was licking her light wounds. "The boy speaks the truth. His cries induced by some nightmare woke me up and I saw Alex and Morgan arguing outside before Morgan ran off. Morgan spoke of someone meeting him at the canyon... his deceased mother, I believe," Sarafina testified.

Mufasa acknowledged Sarafina's words with a nod. "Very well, while you are not responsible for it, your adventure has triggered a diplomatic crisis with the jackals," the King declared.

I sighed. "I'm sorry, Mufasa," I felt responsible for a massive collapse in lion-jackal relations. I had no idea that there was such a relationship beyond their roles in the Circle of Life, but now it was an entire political catastrophe.

"Do not blame yourself, Alex. Aiehu's path for us all is but a mist that we cannot see through," Mufasa said.

'Aiehu,' I thought. Something I would definitely have to catch up on. Perhaps their guiding spirit and centre of faith? If we are to spend time with these lions, I would definitely need to learn their ways and customs.

"It appears that Rafiki's services are required once again," I announced, placing Morgan at my feet. "In saving me from being harmed by jackals, he thinks he did more damage to his arm," I explained.

Mufasa smiled in admiration at Morgan's bravery. He looked up at the horizon and saw the first streaks of sunlight. "He usually wakes up not too long from now," he said. "Sarafina, Diku and Dwala, you are dismissed and may return to Pride Rock," he added.

"Everyone else, to Rafiki's tree."

Mufasa was silent and his jaw was clenched for most of the journey to Rafiki's tree. The amber sun formed a semi-circle as it rose from beyond the horizon, filling the land with young light.

"Excuse me, Mufasa, but would you mind filling me in on the whole situation with the jackals?" I asked tentatively. In response, Mufasa appeared to judge the distance between our current position in the kingdom and Rafiki's Tree, which was not yet visible where the sky met the Earth.

"Of course, Alex, but I must warn you, it goes back many thousands of moons, all the way to the Age of Creation," the King advised.

"Well, it will pass the time," I chuckled. I turned to Morgan, who was still holding his injured arm. My attempt at casual humour evidently failed to take his mind off it.

"Very well. It began with the creation of all beings, such as humans, lions, and jackals, and the role of the jackals in the Circle of Life was that of scavengers - they would eat the remains of the meals of lions and other predators, that way the kill may become one with the Earth," Mufasa began.

"Forgive me, but I still don't quite have a full understanding of the Circle of Life," I admitted. Mufasa paused briefly, looking almost annoyed at my interruption. My conjecture was that he smiled when he took into account my recent arrival to the kingdom.

"In the Circle of Life, there is an interdependence between all living things and the actions of every individual affects everyone else. In an orderly Circle of Life, for example, when we die, we become one with the Earth, and the antelope eat the grass that grows from the Earth and we eat the antelope that is made salubrious by the grass, and the jackals' natural role in the Circle of Life is, as I said, to consume the remaining flesh of the antelope in order to smoothen the transition into the Earth," Mufasa explained, motioning to a herd of antelopes that were beginning to emerge from slumber when they were first mentioned.

"I guess that makes sense," I replied. "What did the jackals do that was so wrong?" I enquired further.

Mufasa sighed. "Over the years, individual jackals would venture beyond their role in the Circle of Life, and successive Kings of the Pride Lands failed to stamp out the rebellious behaviour until the jackals stepped out of line by far too much, so my grandfather, Mohatu, was left with no choice but to banish them - to this day, there are those who act outside the role that was intended for them, but within the jackal packs near the Pride Lands, there are factions who believe in the Circle of Life," Mufasa explained. "I will teach you about the ways of jackals, as well as the ways of all the resident species of the Pride Lands," he declared, which I looked forward to.

By now, Rafiki's tree was in view and the sky was imbued with a fresh azure-golden hue, unhindered by any cloud. The fresh night air was being ebbed away by the radiant sun. The four shadows stretched across the grass as each step took us closer to the tree that loomed over us like a green and brown titan.

We could hear what I thought was Rafiki humming a tune, which then developed into a song.

Kama itakavyokuwa siku zote,

Nuru inarudi ulimwenguni.

Ombea wale ambao

Kukabili giza tulilofukuzwa.

"Good morning, Rafiki," Mufasa called. This put an end to Rafiki's rather haunting song.

"My King, what do you require of the Royal Mjuzi?" the mandrill asked with a bow before he descended from the top of the tree by swinging from branch to branch.

"Royal Mjuzi?" I asked Mufasa.

"Rafiki is the keeper of all knowledge in the Pride Lands - its history, stories, traditions, laws and remedies to ailments, speaking of which," Mufasa said before turning to Rafiki.

"Rafiki, we had a bit of a situation with the jackals and we fear that Morgan has exacerbated his injury," the lion explained to the mandrill.

Rafiki approached Morgan, who looked at the mandrill sheepishly. "Let me look at your arm, Morgan," Rafiki held out his hand. Morgan hesitantly held out his arm for Rafiki to look at. The mandrill ran his hand across Morgan's arm and frowned slightly.

"I'm afraid that your arm has been further damaged," Rafiki diagnosed, to Morgan's audible and visible disappointment. "I don't usually do this, but for a Royal Guest, I will make an exception - there is a way to mend it fully right now, but it will involve a great deal of pain for a few moments," Rafiki advised. "It's completely up to you if I do it," he added.

Morgan looked at his arm for a moment. I guessed that he was weighing up the prospect of long-term mild pain to short-term extreme pain.

"What do you think, Alex?" Morgan asked me.

"I'm not sure if I should decide for you, but whatever you decide, I am sure that you are brave enough to confront it," I said. This inspired a slight smile to form at the bottom of his round face.

"You really think so?" he asked, unsure of it himself.

"I know as such, otherwise you wouldn't have stood up to the jackal earlier," I reminded him. He looked at nothing in particular, returning to his internal debate.

"Okay, Rafiki, I'll have it fixed now," Morgan decided.

"Very well," the mandrill then broke off a gourd from his staff, broke it in half and placed the half-filled with juice on the floor and broke a piece of the empty half and gave it to Morgan. "Put this in your mouth and bite," he instructed.

Morgan did as he was told, but gagged when the shell hit his tongue, not only for the taste but for the texture as well.

"You might want to hold onto something as well," Rafiki added. Morgan looked around him for something to squeeze and then looked at me.

"Can... can I-" he began to ask, but before he could finish, I held my hand out to him, and he then wrapped his hand around the three main fingers on my left hand.

Rafiki gently positioned Morgan's arm so it was stretched out. "Ready?" the Royal Mjuzi asked.

Morgan took in a dose of the morning air, preparing for the onslaught of agony to come and accepted it with an exhale. He voiced his readiness as he tightened his grip on my fingers.

Rafiki then slowly lowered his staff on Morgan's arm, causing the boy's breathing to accelerate.

"Rekibisha," Rafiki uttered before he lifted his staff behind his head. Morgan clenched his eyes and looked away before Rafiki brought it swiftly to Morgan's arm and as it whacked the boy's arm, a flash of sparks made everyone apart from Rafiki and Morgan blink.

What followed was a period of collective pain - the sound of Morgan's scream of pain brought distress to my heart, torment to my ears and torture to my fingers as he squeezed them to compensate for the pain.

Morgan fell to the floor, holding his repaired arm. His wails had now descended into murmurs of pain, tears rolling down his cheeks. I leaned down to his side, doing what I could to physically comfort him.

"You were so brave, Morgan, not many children your age would do what you just did," I praised him. This did little to stop his tears.

"Here, have this gourd juice, it will reduce the pain," Rafiki gave Morgan the other half of the gourd and hesitantly poured the juice into his mouth. To his surprise, it didn't taste as bad as the shell. He then slowly moved his hand and then his arm and grinned in delight.

"Wow, it really worked! It doesn't hurt anymore, but it does feel weird," he commented.

"It will feel that way for about five minutes," Rafiki said. Morgan smiled at Rafiki before he hugged the mandrill that was only slightly taller than him. Morgan gasped before he let go of the Royal Mjuzi.

"That wasn't improper, was it?" he asked Mufasa. Both the King and the Mjuzi chuckled.

"I appreciate your gratitude, Morgan, but I would advise you to avoid breaking any more bones in the future," Rafiki replied.

Morgan nodded. "Yes, sir."

Back at the miserable place they called home, the jackals recovered from their wounded pride and some were now considering hostile tactics against the Pridelanders.

"The human's presence will be a hindrance, especially if his destiny is as I fear," Hila commented.

"You can say that again, and wait till I get my paws on that first bitch lioness," Chukua growled as he rubbed his bruised cheek which was inflicted by Sarafina.

"We cannot let this stand," Hila demanded, rising to her feet. "As long as the injustice we suffered goes uncorrected, the jackal name commands less and less respect," she said.

"What are we to do now?" Mjinga asked as he scratched behind his ear.

"If Mufasa thinks we are daunted, he has another thing coming," Hila declared. "We have to double down until Mufasa's honour gives way," she spat.

"How do we do that?" Mjinga asks once more.

"I propose we engage in swift insurgent tactics to disrupt their precious Circle of Life," Chukua suggested. Hila grinned.

"Excellent," she responded and turned to speak with her fellow clan members. Out of her sight, Mjinga sighed and looked down. If only he could provide solutions instead of offering only questions.

"My friends, our long years of suffering will soon come to an end - we do not seek power, only justice, and yet the lions act affronted? Well, no more!" Hila cried. Almost every jackal responded with yips and howls of enthusiasm and anticipation of the fulfilment of their idea of justice.

But one jackal remained silent. Mjinga noticed this and walked over to find out the reason for their silence.

"Kujadili, are you not content with Hila's plan?" Mjinga asked.

"I... I just think that such violence isn't the best way to achieve peace," said the male jackal with a strip of fur beside the patch of fur that flowed over his head like a dark wave.

"I do concede that for there will be peace when we achieve justice, but we must be prepared to use any means to achieve justice, and it looks as if it will have to be forced from the Pridelanders," Mjinga replied.

"I just don't want anyone else to get hurt on either side - such aggression is near unaffordable for our clan," Kujadili said.

"This isn't meant for us, but for future generations," Mjinga replied. The implied meaning of Mjinga's words didn't sit well with Kujadili.

"I have lost a lot already, I just hope it will be worth it in the end," Kujadili sighed sadly.

A/N: So now we have the perspective of the jackals in this story. I'm aiming to have all these intertwining plots and groups of characters like in Game of Thrones, but we'll see if it is executed well. Anyway, the translation of Rafiki's verse is below:

'As it always will,

Light returns to the world.

Pray for those who

Face the darkness we banished'

What do you reckon that means?

And already, the human visitors have made a mark on the Pride Lands and its foreign policy. How will this play out? I guess we'll have to wait to find out. Don't forget to review constructively and add this story to your favourites/follow list if you want to read new chapters as soon as they're published. Thanks for reading and see you next week.