A/N: Hello, my faithful audience! Welcome to this new chapter where we'll see the commencing of the Path of the Prince, and how Scar settles into his new role.
But before that, I will respond to the, er, just the one review this time. Oh, well, it's better than nothing.
Fire Lord Zuzu: I appreciate your constructive review. I always strive to explore the dynamics between characters and factions and how they react to the events of the story. I agree that I probably should do that, but in my defence, the English translation was said as well XD
Alex's POV
"Alas, the time has come for us to depart. We must make haste if we are to arrive at our sanctuary for the night," Mufasa declared before the remaining lions at the foot of Pride Rock.
"Welp, this is it," I looked down at Morgan's eyes. While his face conveyed envy and excitement for me and Simba, it was betrayed by anxiety in his eyes.
"Look after yourself, Alex, and look after Simba. I saw him just now on Pride Rock and he looked panicked, as if he didn't want to be found. I think he was told something by Scar that made him want to not go," Morgan said to me in a voice that went undetected by Simba.
I could only shake my head in dismay at the idea of someone making their brother's son so afraid of their upcoming journey that they would consider forsaking their part in a royal tradition and something that had the potential to solidify their bond.
"Thank you for making me aware, Morgan," I replied. "Your honesty will be rewarded one day, I am sure. You are more likely to gain a friend with such a virtue," I said.
"And then lose them when I tell them what I think of them, or something," Morgan scoffed.
"I don't believe that would happen. I believe your days of loss and mourning are closer in your past than in the future," I said confidently. "As long as you don't let fear control you, you'll probably forget I'm not here," I added.
"Alex, I was afraid. Of many things. Of missing you so dearly that I will do something silly. Of getting into trouble that I can't get out of. Of putting someone in danger. But, maybe most of all, I was afraid of being alone, and my mind becoming numb in the absence of love and joy," Morgan said at length. "I found that Simba was afraid of what might happen on his adventure, and comforting him helped me realise that it's no bad thing to be afraid," he added.
"Right you are, Morgan. It's okay to be afraid, but it's even better to have courage, and courage doesn't mean the absence of fear, but being afraid but confronting your fear, for if you let it stay your hand or heart, that is a little death," I said as I gently stroked Morgan's cheek with my thumb.
"But you know what? I'm not afraid anymore," Morgan declared with a proud smile on his face.
"In that case, one worry is stayed. I will miss you, Morgan, but knowing that you'll go on your own adventure brings me happiness," I replied with a smile of contentment.
"I'll miss you too, Alex. I love you."
We allowed ourselves to fall into an embrace. My right arm went under his left arm and my hand rested on the back of his head, with my fingers gently stroking his soft hair. His right arm was under mine, his left above my shoulder and his hand on the back of my neck.
"I love you too, Morgan."
"The first thing you have to know about the Path of the Prince is that there are four trials that Simba must undertake that test his courage, resilience, honour, and leadership," Mufasa explained as we neared the southern border of the Pride Lands. We followed the river eastwards and made haste for the border, which we would follow northwards until crossing into the Back Lands and passing through Dhahabu Grove.
"What might those trials entail?" I asked.
"We won't know the demands of each trial until they happen or in which order they will happen," Mufasa answered.
"How long until we get the first trial?" Simba asked.
"There is no schedule. It will take as long as it needs to," Mufasa explained.
"Wait, the Council of Kings is two weeks away," I thought aloud. "Does that mean we could go days without, you know, anything happening?" I asked.
"For my Path, it took a few days before my first trial, which was the one that tested my courage. I was confronted with what was then my greatest fear, which was my father not being with me and me being unprepared to be King. After that, even though it did not vanquish my fear, I no longer allowed it to control me," Mufasa answered. Unseen by both of us, Simba's usual strides of excitement and curiosity had momentarily faltered into hesitant steps.
"If I may ask, what is your greatest fear now?" I asked.
"Losing Simba," Mufasa replied promptly. He and I shared a knowing and sorrowful look.
"You'll never lose me, Dad," Simba dismissed the notion innocently. "We'll always be pals," he declared.
"In some ways you are right," Mufasa admitted. "Even when the sun sets on my time as King, my love will remain in your heart and my wisdom in your head, and that will be forever, unto the ending of the world," he said.
"The world is going to end?" Simba asked with a shallow dread in his voice.
"All things that start must surely come to an end, but what matters is what you do in the time between," I said.
"Indeed. The fact that it could all end tomorrow is what gives today meaning. If you were to spend your life trying to evade Death, he will have already claimed you," Mufasa said.
"Oh, so your culture has a personification of Death, as well?" I asked.
"This conversation has taken a rather depressing turn," Simba remarked.
"Indeed. We believe that there are Gods who govern essential aspects of existence. The chief among them are responsible for creation, and the other is responsible for destruction, and both exist together in an exchange of energy. The ingredients they create form lifeforms, and when those lifeforms wither and die, they are destroyed to create new lifeforms," Mufasa explained.
"The Circle of Life at it's most fundamental level," I surmised.
"Exactly," Mufasa said.
"Where are we stopping for the night?" Simba asked in an effort to divert the conversation from this frighteningly existential subject.
"Oh, we'll sleep in Dhahabu Grove, and if we're on schedule, we'll be able to visit Mtanga of the Kaskazini Mountain Pride," Mufasa replied.
"Oh, that's where Malka lives!" Simba exclaimed excitedly.
"Oh, yes, I remember when Malka was your brother for the day," Mufasa chuckled.
"Oh, yeah, that was a thing," Simba replied sheepishly as if he was recalling an embarrassing memory.
"How was Malka your brother for a day?" I asked.
"One day, Malka happened upon our home having gotten lost, and he stayed here while Zazu looked for his mother, and he showed tremendous bravery in warding off a pair of hyena intruders," Mufasa said.
"So brave, he saved a couple of bones," I heard Simba mutter sarcastically.
"Oh, so were you not as close with this pride before?" I asked. "If you did not then know who he was or where he came from?"
"We had a basic diplomatic relationship, but we never had counted each other as close allies," Mufasa replied. "That was, until Malka happened. And for giving him sanctuary, the Kaskazini pride promised to come to our aid if we were to ever need it,"
"Wow, that's a very generous act of gratitude," I remarked.
"Yes, I visited their kingdom a few moons before you arrived and found that they were noble and honourable. The reason we had not grown closer until then was because of the conduct of my father and the domestic troubles of my grandfather," Mufasa said.
"Might I ask what your father did?"
"It is only right that I do so, for history is our best, most wise, and most harsh teacher," Mufasa sighed. "My father spent many years as a rogue, and some of his mannerisms, his world view, were regarded by some as unkingly. And there was a small breakdown in relations between ourselves and other member prides of the Council of Kings when he rejected an offer of betrothal between myself and the White King's second daughter, and in doing so, insulted the White King, who was the head of the Council of Kings at the time. Then, my grandfather led an unsuccessful challenge to his leadership, and he left the summit with his diplomatic reputation in tatters,"
"Wow... were you not already betrothed to Sarabi?"
"I was, but it was the manner in which the White King's offer was rejected that was so insulting. It's said that my grandfather was so insulted at the offer of a second daughter that he likened it to being offered a... well, illegitimate cub," Mufasa said. I needn't extend my imagination as to the actual wording.
"Are you glad that he refused?" I asked him.
"In one way, it's the best thing he ever did for me, because it meant I ended up with the best Queen, mate and mother to my son I could ask for," Mufasa smiled, but it faded before he spoke further.
"It also meant that I had to do the hard work of reforging the relationship with the Council of Kings, the cost of which was... unimaginable," Mufasa said. He looked behind to see where Simba was and smiled when he saw that he was chasing a butterfly, but that smile lasted only until he looked at me again.
"I had to betroth my sons to daughters of other Kings, and when they... died, even though they forgave the annulment, it just felt like fate was punishing me for my father's mistakes," Mufasa said emotionally.
"I won't compare what I've gone through with your experience, but I know what it's like to sacrifice only to gain nothing out of it in the end," I said. I had to hide my sexuality in order to fit in at school and excel in my extracurricular activities. But in the end, doing that resulted in me ending up in an even worse situation.
"So, what's going to happen at this summit?" I asked, hurrying the conversation along.
"The agenda of this summit is of the utmost urgency. After all the pleasantries, apologies and reports, we will then discuss the apparent return of the Ironclaws on the first full day, and on the final full day, we will discuss amendments to the constitution of the Council of Kings," Mufasa said.
"There are few things that annoy me more than people refusing to set aside their differences and look at the bigger picture. If it comes to it, I'll do what I can to win the favour of the Council," I vowed.
"I truly appreciate that, Alex, and saying that, I think you'll be the first human the current Council has ever hosted, at the very least. I know not of Guardians before you who have attended a Council summit," Mufasa said.
"Oh, well, that would be a great honour," I said with humility.
"Believe me, the honour would be theirs," Mufasa replied.
"We are now in Dhahabu Grove," Mufasa announced as a gentle valley that consisted of a river that flowed from a broad lake that glistened beneath the sunlight like stars in the twilight sky lay before them, and it was fed by a waterfall that fell from a sundered escarpment that hosted several acacia trees perched on the edge of the ridges.
"Hmm, the way you spoke of it, I thought it would be more remarkable. It looks no different from what we just travelled through," Simba remarked in an unimpressed tone.
"The treasure of Dhahabu Grove lies not in what it is, but who lives here," Mufasa emphasised the word that has connotations with gold.
"And... who lives here?" Simba asked impatiently.
Mufasa looked at the bottom of the waterfall and smiled when he saw a four-legged figure. He lowered his head to Simba's and said, "Look at the waterfall and you'll see."
Simba and I both squinted at the waterfall and our eyes simultaneously widened when they fell upon a remarkable creature who walked through the mist at the foot of the waterfall as an aureate and majestic figure passing through the curtain. It was a golden zebra.
"Wow..." I gasped. My astonishment was such that I almost expressed it with a word that would displease Mufasa if I said it in Simba's presence. "That's a golden zebra, Lewis told me about those," I said. It was the animal he most wanted to encounter in his life, and here I was seeing one a few weeks into my time here. He'd probably call me a jammy sod, and he wouldn't be wrong.
"I thought they were a myth," Simba said.
"No, they are as real as the grass beneath your paws, but they are rare. It is said that they are spiritually closer to Aiehu than even most lions, and that is why this herd is the most prosperous," Mufasa explained.
"My brother, Lewis, would kill to stand where I am right now," I exclaimed.
"Is that so?" Mufasa chuckled.
"Oh, yeah, he's terribly passionate about animals and always wanted to be involved in conserving rare species. To be honest, he would make a far greater Guardian than I could ever hope to be," I admitted. One might say this was uttered out of humility or self-deprication, but it was an honest truth. My mind has been at war with itself for years, I have never before now shown leadership qualities, paternal instincts or control over my abilities.
"All I can say is what I have seen, and I have seen that you are a courageous, noble and protective person, and sometimes we find our attributes, our true nature, when we step outside of our comfort zone," Mufasa replied. He was right. I stopped a battle with my voice. I incited the blossoming of a royal love. I enabled Mufasa and Sarabi to move forward in their grieving, and enabled Morgan to form attachments with other people again.
From ten years ago, I would have thought myself a selfish, uncaring, dangerous hermit who had nothing to offer. People got hurt because of me, and I hurt people because I was afraid of myself. I just wanted to keep my head down and go through the motions. Getting to the end of the day was a success, but waking up the next morning was a punishment.
The boy then would not recognise the man. And the man would not recognise the boy.
We approached the golden zebra and saw that she had a glad expression.
"Mufasa? Is that you?" she asked excitedly. "Why, I almost didn't recognise you," she said. "The last time I saw you, you were but a cute little princeling," she teased. This caused Simba to snicker.
"Greetings, Dhahabu, it has been too long," Mufasa said after a hearty chuckle.
"What brings thee to Dhahabu Grove, may I ask?"
"I am embarking with my son and heir on a Pride Lands tradition: the Path of the Prince," the King answered.
"Ooh, how exciting!" the golden zebra exclaimed. "And I take it this is the Prince in question?" Simba nodded proudly.
"My name is Simba," the cub introduced himself.
"It's a pleasure to meet you, Simba," Dhahabu bowed graciously. When she raised her head again, she noticed my presence and paused for a moment. I thought of several ways she would react to my presence and how I would introduce myself in response, but the reaction that occurred was not one of them.
"And, uh... who is the pale gorilla?" she asked.
The immediate answer to the question was the soundtrack of the scene. The gentle drone of the water descending into the plunge pool below the cliff above it.
From the corner of my eye, I could sense Mufasa looking at me, awaiting my reaction. He looked almost astounded that Dhahabu had talked about my appearance like that.
An urge to react sprang upward from my chest like an antelope.
My body creased and a dry yet merry laugh was expelled from my mouth.
I was joined by Simba, then Mufasa, and, lastly, Dhahabu.
When the energy produced by my sense of humour was spent, I wiped a tear from my eye.
"That's the best one I've heard yet!" I sighed. "Oh, my name is Alex, by the way. I am Mufasa's Guardian and I am accompanying them on their expedition as I am part of the kingdom's diplomatic mission of the Council of Kings," I explained.
"Well, it's an honour to meet you, Alex, and judging by your admittedly good-natured reaction to my rather unkind question, I take it you are not a gorilla," Dhahabu said. A sharp exhalation of breath slipped between my tongue and teeth.
"No, not a gorilla. I am a human," I said.
"A human, you say? As you can tell, I've never seen one before, at least one that looks like you," she said.
"Come to think of it, that doesn't surprise me, as the humans that call this continent home tend to have darker skin than mine," I said.
"Well, now that we are all acquainted, I think it would be a wonderful idea to have a drink. You must be desiccated," she said.
"We are a little thirsty, thank you," Mufasa accepted the generous offer.
"And after that, maybe you can join us in a session of frolicking and romping. I find it to be very relaxing, especially after extensive exhertion," Dhahabu offered.
"That sounds splendid, but we'll think on it," Mufasa replied politely.
"So, you see, Mufasa's mother came here looking for a new water source, and saw that we were experiencing the same conditions. Before Queen Uru left for the Great Oasis, we came to an agreement that, should either of our realms need it, they will have the right to travel to the other for the purpose of drinking their water without let or hindrance," Dhahabu said."She sounds more diplomatic than Ahadi," I remarked.
"She was more even-tempered, more empathetic, and, yes, more stately," Mufasa admitted with a nostalgic sigh. "She was the daughter of Mohatu, after all," he added.
"Grandma completed her journey in the Circle of Life a couple of weeks after I was born, and the only memory I have of her is telling me a story about my Dad, and then she sang a lullaby before I fell asleep,"
"I remember that. That was the day before she joined the Great Kings of the Past," Mufasa said solemnly. "I think she would have gotten along with you, Alex, and it is regretful that you didn't get to meet her,"
"She sounds like my mother," I remarked. "She was wise, gentle, and utterly kind-hearted," I reminisced. My memory of her was not yet sullied by time.
"I regret not being able to meet such a person, but I hope to at least meet your brother one day," Mufasa said.
"I wouldn't bet on that happening anytime soon," I said solemnly.
"My mother used to say that even the most meagre hope has the power to save a life, a kingdom, even a world," Mufasa said. "Do not let go of the hope of your heart, for it is the key ingredient for it to come to pass," he said. His words brought comfort to my pessimistic mind.
"She was kind, gentle, wise, and had a warm energy," Simba said.
"She was forthright," Mufasa chuckled. "And she was honourable, compassionate, and fair," he said.
"My mother once held me at the top of the waterfall when it was in drought so I would value water and our precious role in the Circle of Life," Dhahabu uttered a little too joyously than such a statement warranted.
"Damn, that's dark," Simba uttered after a long silence.
"That may be, but it worked," Dhahabu shrugged. "Young Simba, would you mind joining me in a session of frolicking and romping?" she asked quickly afterwards.
"Oh, ummm... yeah, okay, if that's alright with you, Dad?" Simba responded.
"Of course, Simba,"
"Cool, let's go!"
"Why did nobody tell me of this?" Scar growled in frustration. He had just been informed that he was expected to attend the funeral of Hasira, the former leader of the Buffalo herd, that evening in place of Mufasa.
"Well, I am telling you, sire, this very moment," Zazu answered.
"Surely the Queen can attend this?" Scar asked with a heavy sigh.
"The Queen would attend in the absence of the King, but you are the King at present," Zazu replied. Scar really didn't like those last two words, but every time he might hear them would make the moment he was the undisputed King for good all the sweeter.
"I thought you were up for this, Scar," Sarabi said as she licked her front left paw. "Your position comes with responsibility as well as power," she added between administering her long tongue between her paws.
"Well-, I-, yes, of course, it's just that... I thought I would have more time to settle in," Scar responded.
"Admittedly, this has happened rather quickly, but the call of power demands that we adapt and rise to the occasion," Sarabi said.
"Fine, fine, I'll go," Scar relented. "Am I expected to say any words? I didn't know Hasira as Mufasa did," he said.
"Well, you've only gotten yourself to blame for that, what with your aloof personality," Zazu said with a roll of his eyes. Scar said nothing but his eyes copied Zazu's movement.
"The least you can say is that he served with grace and dignity for many long years, and that the sting born from his loss is lessened by the love and memory that will remain in their hearts until they themselves complete their journey in the Circle of Life," Sarabi advised.
"Right," Scar sighed. "What else is in the Morning Report?"
"Well, nothing rooted to note, but there were whispers of Ironclaw activity to the North, and strange beings to the East. They've been described as armoured like rhinos and growl as deep as a lion warding off a rogue," Zazu said.
"Ironclaws?" Scar scoffed. "Aren't they cub story monsters?"
"We are hosting two victims of Ironclaw cruelty," Sarabi said with a punishing glare. "They are no myth."
"Of course, my apologies," Scar nodded. "Are we to do anything about them?"
"There is nothing to do until, perchance, they enter our territory, or else we would be declaring war on all Ironclaws," Zazu said.
"And what about the strange beasts? Did the humans not arrive here from a damaged metal bird?" Scar enquired.
"Two humans are enough for one kingdom, methinks," Zazu replied.
"On that we are agreed, but can anything be done to keep them without if they stray hither?" Scar asked.
"All we can do is protect our territory where we are," Sarabi said.
"Follow my lead," Dhahabu said before she preceded to march into the heart of the meadow as green and luscious as the thickest moss. She then pranced around in a circle before kicking out her hind legs. As mundane as it seemed, she appeared to take great enjoyment in the movement.
"Oh, like this?" Simba asked as he spectated from afar. He did what he could to mimic the zebra's graceful gamboling.
"Yes, yes! It's most exhilerating, is it not?" Dhahabu asked.
"Uh, yeah, it's kinda fun," Simba said hesitantly as to not insult his host.
"I find that it's much better to do it in the water," the golden zebra said. "Come join me, Simba," she invited. Again, Simba did not wish to insult the zebra in her own home, so he duly accepted her invitation and joined her in the water.
Alex was sitting beside Mufasa in a pleasant shade cast by an acacia tree, and he marvelled at the crystals of water that glistened in the glorious sunlight like pebbles of shimmering glass being kicked up on a sandy beach. Simba cheered as he ran through the water, something he would have been admonished for doing back home, and what would follow is a boring, humiliating bath.
"Woohoo!" Simba chanted as he skipped through the water and thrust his hind legs back.
"Lift your hind legs higher, Simba, like this," Dhahabu said before performing another graceful demonstration.
However, when Simba attempted to mirror her movements, he ended up doing a frontflip with flailing limbs and landed with a great splash.
There was immediate battle in Alex's chest. On one side, there was a concern. Could he have winded himself? Could he drown at that depth? These thoughts compelled the human to leap up to his feet.
But on the other side, he recalled the yelp he made paired with the look on his face of realisation that he overstretched, and the kerplomp-spash upon his landing was highly amusing to him and caused a build up of pressure that could only be released through laughter. But which side would win out rested on the next noise that came from Simba. Would he cry out in pain?
He got his answer when he saw his chest quickly rise and fall. The comforting and undefiled sound of his laughter reached Alex's ears after he took in a breath before unleashing a howl of laughter.
He allowed the energy triggered by my humour take over my body. His legs buckled and he fell to his knees.
"Your face... was priceless!" he said between almost unrelenting laughter. Because Alex's eyes were now closed, he did not see the mischievous smirk on Simba's face. Because he let laughter consume him, he did not hear the splashes of the cub running up to him.
By the time the laughter was fully dispensed, Alex looked up to see a dripping wet lion cub just inches before him.
"Are you al-" Alex began, but seeing the prankish look on Simba's drenched face, and having been a dog owner, he knew what was coming. Oh, no.
Simba shook the entirety of his being as if his life depended on it. And Alex bore the brunt of the spray that eminated from his soaked fur.
"Urgh," Alex groaned as he turned his head away and put his arm in front of his face, but it was futile. "You little..." Alex said as he wiped his face dry with his elbow and forearm. "I'll get you for that!"
He got back up onto his feet again and Simba made haste in the direction of the lake.
"You can't catch me, Alex!" Simba called behind him as his paws splashed on the water. Even though the muddy bed of the lake was hesitant to let his feet go, his long legs allowed him to quickly catch up to Simba in the water, and he submerged my hands and brought them above his head as quickly as he could, causing a curtain of water to loom over the helpless cub.
Revenge was dealt. Simba's fur once again clung to his form in sopping triangular clumps, with several uninterrupted streams of water falling from his chin and belly.
"Truce?" he asked after a round of coughs.
Morgan's POV
"Morgan?" a gentle voice carried with a caressing grace like the wind reached my ears. I erected myself from my sleeping position. I had woken up from a nap under a willow-like tree a few moments earlier. I was now sitting with my arms behind me. I saw that it was Nala.
"Oh, I didn't wake you, did I?" she asked. I shook my head. I realised that the urge to yawn was brewing in my cheeks.
"What is it?" I said with a sigh that was more audible than intended. I didn't mean to come across as frustrated and impolite.
"Oh, it's just that I'm about to leave for my father's kingdom, for I will be visiting him, and my younger brother, before he makes his way to the Council of Kings," Nala explained. "I just came to say goodbye,"
"That's the story of my life, isn't it?" I said aloud and turned away. "Everyone leaves me in the end," I said with a tightening throat. Whether they were taken from me or their path leads away from me, I am destined to be alone. "I am too much trouble for everyone," I declared. That was what my father once said of me, and my conduct here has proved him right.
"That's not true. Everyone in the Pride loves you, and just because some of us may be called to far away duties or our paths may diverge, it doesn't mean we don't want to be with you. In my eyes, time apart is what makes the time together more appreciated," Nala said. She then walked closer to me and placed her head under mine.
"I said to Simba this morning that while every second will feel like a day, it's one second closer to seeing each other again, and that's what makes the absence worth it," she said. "It makes us appreciate the time we have together." The way her voice vibrated on my chin was soothing.
"But Alex promised me that he would be there to hold my hand," I said. "Until the ending of the world," I quoted.
"Alex may not be here to hold your hand, but his love for you won't depart with him. His wisdom will remain in your mind and his love will remain in your heart to guide you," Nala replied. "And that is forever, until the ending of the world."
"Thank you, Nala. You are already very wise, you will be a great Queen one day," I said as I wrapped my left arm under her foreleg and my right arm around my neck. She gently nuzzled my cheek and placed a her unrestrained paw on my shoulder and then purred as I stroked her back.
"It's time for me to go," Nala said after a moment that faded in trying to buy itself more time.
"Okay, then," I choked. I looked away when I felt my eyes stinging.
"Take care... and have a pleasant journey," I bid her.
"Thank you, Morgan," Nala said. "Stay safe," she added before leaving the leafy enclosure.
It was now quiet. I could now hear the background noise of the savannah. The bellows of frustrated elephants, the yips of excitable zebras, the singing of courting birds, and in the distance, the shouting of playful cubs. Only, this time, it was just Tojo, Tama, Kula, and Chumvi.
I also heard the gentle high-pitched drone in my ear. The beating of my heart. Air being shakily inhaled through my mouth.
There was no merry laughter. There was no rustling of grass as footsteps flattened it or the form of a cub cutting through it. There were no tales being told. There were no assurances being accorded. There were no compliments being conveyed. There was no hand to hold. It was just me.
I knew what I had to do, but this was the first time I was on my own since my mum died. No one would be here to get me out of trouble or to share in my burden. I am afraid, and that is no bad thing, but I disliked being alone even more, so at that moment, I decided to make my way to the zebra's abode. Maybe I would come across the strange zebra who called Alex a 'lanky baboon'. I wonder what he would call me.
On the way, for the first time since coming to Africa, I had no company other than my own thoughts, and I found that they led me from being utterly grateful for Alex rescuing me from the plane wreck before the firey climax, to being terrified as to why I had a dream about Alex being the one to end my life, and cringing at accidentally reigniting the conflict between lions and jackals in between.
I then realised that, apart from the moment when I was hunched between the uncomfortable seats on the plane, I had not let the pain of losing my mum materialise as tears falling down my face. One reason could be that my time in the Pride Lands has been a continuous distraction that has consisted of adventure, threat, ceremonies, games, and war.
Another reason could be that my father would shout at me if I ever cried. To him, crying was a weakness, an unforgivable vulnerability. But Alex cries a lot, and he's the strongest person I know. I have come to realise that crying isn't what makes you weak, but letting emotion bubble inside you makes it become acidic. It wears away your true nature and leaves you an eroded shell. I never saw her cry, but I knew my mum cried. I heard her and saw it in her eyes after it happened. She wanted to show me that she was strong, but she needn't have done that. I knew that she was strong because of what she sacrificed for me. It was my weakness, my silence, that meant that she thought I wanted my dad in my life. It's my fault that we were on that plane to South Africa. I should have said something, and I didn't. It's my fault she's dead.
My strength was stolen by a guilt and grief whose gravity was greater than a black hole, and I would have sunk into the mantle of the Earth if not for the trunk of an acacia tree.
I cried. No, that's too soft a word for what happened. I wept. I wailed. I then fell to the floor as I thrashed around on the floor as I tried to shake off the overwhelming, strangling cloak of regret.
When I finally ceased my weeping, I felt like a thin yet opressive film of intense self-loathing had been peeled off. My head was now much clearer and I now realised that it wasn't my fault that my mother died. Even if I tried to stand up to my father, he would surely belittle me if not smack me again. Even if I begged my mother to not let me near him, it was as if his will surrounded us like looming mountains that could not be overcome. Even if I alerted one of my teachers to the situation, they would never believe me, and even if they did, who knows what my father would have done in that situation? He was the brother of a Member of Parliament and came from a family with links to very powerful and dangerous groups. At this point, I was now sitting away from the tree, and was showered in sunlight. I was plucking individual blades of grass from the soil.
My line of thought came to an end when I heard someone clearing their throat.
"Are you going to eat that grass?"
I used my legs to rotate my body and then pushed against the grassy floor to stand at my full height and see who had asked this question. Upon it being asked, I thought it a very strange one, for no clearminded human would eat grass, but when I saw who and what had asked the question, it made complete sense.
It was a zebra. A female one. She had the signature black and white stripes that flowed down her face like streams on a mountain and faded into a greyish patch around her mouth and nose. She had bushy yet grey mane that made her stand out from other zebras in the distance."Oh, um, no... sorry, you can have it if you want, I was just... venting some frustration,"
"Hmm, you don't see the lions of Pride Rock stripping the meat from the bones of their prey only to let it rot because they're frustrated," the zebra said.
"Oh, uh, sorry, I didn't realise it was your food," I said with guilt staggering my words. The confrontation reminded me of how I killed Hatia. And just like then, I had messed up. I had insulted the zebra by defiling their food. I was always going to be a screw up. I had forsaken the opportunity to make a new friend before I even really tried. "I can go somewhere else, if you want me to," I said as I began to walk backwards.
"What I want is less important than what you need, and it looks like you need some company," the zebra said. Those words of compassion stayed my legs.
"Well, I do feel very lonely, and I reckon your company is better than the company of my dark thoughts," I responded.
"Dark thoughts accompany us all, but what matters is if we let them become dark deeds," the zebra said. "My name is Kujua," she said.
"It's a pleasure to meet you, Kujua, and I am grateful for your company," I said. "My name is Morgan," I introduced myself.
"Your name is known across the kingdom, it is spoken as if it belonged to a menace, a burden, and even a monster by some," said. I knew exactly who she was talking about and looked to my feet briefly. "But now that I have seen your face, I know it belongs to a frightened boy trying to find his place in this large, scary, often contradictory world, and in that, he is no different to anyone else," Kujua spoke.
I smiled at her understanding. Hope was restored to my heart that I might yet make new friends.
"I'm sorry again for the grass," I apologised.
"Oh, it's okay, I only ask as I am responsible for ensuring that the grass we eat is healthy and of plentiful supply, for I am the leader of the zebra herd," she said.
"Oh, wow, you're the leader? That's cool!" I exclaimed. How is that for a new friend, Alex? Knowing him, he'll say that a leader of a herd is an easy target.
"Well, technically, my son, Thurston, is the leader, but he has always needed a helping hoof," Kujua explained.
'Why does that name sound familiar?' I asked myself. Apart from myself and Alex, his name is perhaps the most unusual in these parts. And then the realisation hit me as a the urge to laugh travelled up my chest like a tickle in my lungs threatening a cough.
"Oh, Thurston! Yeah, he once called Alex a lanky baboon," I couldn't help but giggle.
"Yes," Kujua did nothing to stop a chuckle. "That sounds like him," she said with a smile filling her voice with warmth.
Scar was accompanied by Zazu and Naanda to Hasira's funeral. It would of course take place in Chakula Plains as the sun would meet with the earth at the horizon. The lions were cast in an amber glow as their shadows lingered far behind them.
"I don't see why you have to accompany," Scar said.
"Well, ordinarily, Sarabi would attend the funeral of a herd leader her capacity as Queen as well as the head of the hunting party, but as she is in no condition to attend, it falls to the acting deputy to take her place, and I am attending in her stead as the sister of the Queen," Naanda exposited.
"Come to think of it, I am surprised that you are still a batchelor," Zazu said from above.
"Yeah, well, I haven't really had the time to concern myself over that matter," Scar replied in a huff.
"Or maybe you never gave yourself the time. I knew you were close with Sarafina when you were young, but has there really been no one else since?" Naanda asked.
"I suppose I have never really allowed myself to connect with anyone, and maybe I should... get out there when Mufasa returns," Scar said at length. "Anyway, now is hardly the time to discuss such matters."
A few minutes later, they arrived at the location of the funeral, and they were stopped in their tracks. To the left, there was the lifeless body of Hasira. His great form was blanketed by mud, grass and flowers. But their breath was stolen when they saw how small Hatia's restful corpse was. He was buried under a small mountain of flowers.
"Oh, the poor thing. That is no age for their life to end!" Naanda exclaimed.
"Indeed, such a needless loss," Scar said with a monotonous and unfeeling tone.
Scar approached Vuruga Vuruga, who stood beyond her brother and father. The acting King rounded their bodies and he bowed respectfully towards the deceased before he spoke to her.
"I am so sorry for your most heartwrenching loss. To lose not only your father, but also your brother, who had barely begun to live... I can only commend you on your strength to continue through this adversity," Scar said.
"Thank you, Your Majesty, but... to be honest, I continue not because I want to but because my people need me," the buffalo said.
"Of course, of course, and if you ever need anything of me, or the Pride, you need only ask," Scar said.
"Thank you, Your Majesty, and may I thank you for allowing Rafiki to make sure my brother and father can rest in dignity," Vuruga Vuruga said.
"Oh, uh, of course, it almost went without saying," Scar said, caught off guard by the gratitude being directed at him. He would have to speak to Rafiki about keeping him in the dark.
"Ah," Vuruga Vuruga gasped. "The sun begins to sink beyond the horizon and the time has come for my brother and father to return to the earth."With that, everyone took their place. The buffalo surrounded the bodies of Hasira and Hatia. Within the circle was Scar, Naanda, and Rafiki, who stood beside Vuruga Vuruga.
"Alas, we are gathered hither today to remember an honourable friend, pay tribute to a loyal Pridelander, and say farewell to a beloved father and buffalo," Scar said in as solemn a voice as he could muster without sounding insincere.
"He dedicated his life to the duty of leadership, to upholding buffalo traditions, and that of being a father. He was true to his duty and honour to the very end," Scar said, clearly leaning into the swift and brutal way in which his life was taken.
"I admit, I did not know him as Mufasa knew him, but I know that he was a dutiful leader and father. And if the heartache wasn't sore enough, a young and innocent life was also lost, and perhaps what hurts the most is that you will always be reminded of who took them away from you," Scar said. "Lala kahle."
"Lala kahle," the onlookers repeated.
"That's not what I would have said," Naanda whispered.
"He didn't even say their names," Vuruga Vuruga said quietly.
"Simba's all tuckered out," I chuckled as I approached Mufasa, who was sitting beneath the same tree.
"Hasira and Hatia will be buried by now," Mufasa said solemnly.
"I'm sorry... that I took away from you the opportunity to say goodbye to your friend," I said as I leaned down to sit beside him.
"I don't blame you. I blame the unseen force of fate. Morgan was meant to kill Hatia. You were meant to challenge Hasira. We are meant to be on this journey now, and Scar is meant to be where he is. Though our hearts try to bring us back together by making us miss those we love, it is a burden of freedom that our responsibilities take us away from our loved ones," Mufasa said.
I absorbed what Mufasa said and found myself chuckling.
"What is it?" Mufasa asked. He sounded like he was trying to maintain a neutral tone, but a speck of annoyance, maybe offence, did not go undetected.
"It's just that... I could hear you talk all day, and not just because of your badass voice, but because you always say the right thing. And I'm pleased to say that Simba has inherited at least some of your wisdom, and it will be a pleasure to be his Guardian when that far-off day comes to pass," I said.
"You know... Simba won't always be this cute little cuddly cub," Mufasa said. "There will come a day when you will have to answer to him as someone to whom you are loyal, and you will have to put aside what bond you might have and serve him as your king,"
"I know this. That's why I want to make sure that day does not come over the horizon for many years," I said with a soft smile that was shared with Mufasa, but his faded when he said.
"Sometimes, it feels like the horizon itself is rising as to bring my time nearer," the King admitted.
"What makes you say that?" I asked.
"Things are happening that are out of my control, and things will happen yet that are out of your control," Mufasa said. "We have had confirmed Ironclaw activity for the first time in generations, the presence of humans is dictating my reign, and my son is growing up," he said. "Try as we might, we can only play our part until it's time for someone else to carry on."
"And what is our part?" I asked.
"The part of everyone is to do what they think is right, but right to one person can mean helping people, protecting the weak. Right can mean pursuing power. Right can mean surviving and keeping your head down," he said.
"I have always been told what is right for me, but now I get to decide that for myself," I said. "When I first woke up on that plane, I thought that it was the worst thing that could possibly happen to me, but now... not only do I realise I was always meant to happen upon this place, it was the best thing that has ever happened to me," I admitted.
"I have been wondering about something, Alex," Mufasa said when I spoke no longer.
"What is it about Morgan that binds you to him?"
I remained silent for a few moments so I could find the words to convey my sense of connection with and duty over Morgan.
"We have a shared trauma, Morgan and I. We were the only survivors of the plane crash, and all we had was each other. And we both knew what it was to lose their mother far too early," I began.
"Morgan had nobody left in the world who would protect him, stand up for him, feed him, clothe him, teach him right from wrong... and maybe that's why I grew attached to him so quickly. I was the only one who could be that figure for him, and... it was as if that was the only thing I could decide for myself," I said. Mufasa nodded in acknowledgement and understanding.
"I was wondering this because... I am worried that you might struggle to distinguish between your duty over Morgan, and your duty to not only Simba but to the Pride Lands," Mufasa uttered.
"Is this about what happened with Hasira?" I asked. "I knew you were too chill about it," I scoffed.
"I only ask because, as the Guardian, you can show no fear or favour, and you should be loyal to no King or civilian but to the law. Hasira died in accordance with Buffalo law, which is compliant with the laws that I uphold as King, but... if anyone else accidentally killed his son, they would have been under threat of a temporary exile," Mufasa said.
"What are you saying?" I asked rather pointedly, my back straightening.
"If Morgan does something like that again, he won't be so leniently punished," he declared.
"But you said that as I was the person responsible for him, I had to punish him," I argued.
"And if that proves to be an insufficient deterrent, then I will have to assume that prerogative," he said.
"Are you saying that I, your Guardian, have poor judgement? Are you saying that Morgan is inherently untrustworthy?" I asked.
"You're putting words in my mouth," Mufasa replied.
"Nah, they're already there in your mind," I said as I stood up.
"What was your thinking behind your punishment, Alex? Why did you charge him to stay by your side?" Mufasa asked.
"Because... he told me he was being abused, and I wanted to protect him... stop bad people from hurting him," I said at length. I let my legs carry me to the tree, on which I then leaned with my right hand.
"And where is he now?" Mufasa asked.
I looked up to the evening stars behind me. I wondered if he could see those same stars.
"He is half a day away in a strange land... probably now on his own," I said. My throat was tightening.
"Do you see now that you can't protect someone all the time, that you have to let them be free... to live?"
"Yes... he even helped Simba realise that when..." I began, but stopped myself to think of the implications of revealing what Morgan told me about Scar.
"When... what?" Mufasa pushed for me to finish my sentence.
"Morgan found out that Simba was told something by Scar that spooked him, and Morgan had to talk him into going on this journey," I admitted.
"Why did you not tell me this sooner?" Mufasa asked.
"How would it look to Simba if we were whispering about him before our eyes?" I asked in return. Mufasa sighed and looked in the direction from
"When I found out I was going to be a father, I swore to myself that I would always be honest and transparent with my cub, for a lack of which ruined the relationship between myself, my brother, and my father," the King said. "But I've found that there are moments when I cannot uphold that vow, and it breaks my heart to conceal the truth from him, but what also breaks my heart is the idea of the hurt we cause him when he realises we kept the truth for so long, as well as actually talking about it," he admitted.
"So I want you to be honest with me right now. If it came to it, who would you choose between Simba and Morgan?" Mufasa asked.
At first, I was astounded that he would ask me such a question, and I initially didn't know how to answer, but then I realised I could give the perfect answer.
"I have already had that choice before me, when Simba got into a fight with Chumvi, and when Morgan perilously climbed a tree. I managed to break up the fight and I was able to save Morgan from a serious injury, and what did I get to show for it? A broken rib!" I said firmly.
"Look, I'm talking about real stakes, I'm talking about who commands more loyalty," Mufasa said to my dismay. I didn't feel my efforts were appreciated, and I couldn't get out of this without selecting an option from a binary choice.
"And I want an honest answer," Mufasa said.
Do I protect Simba because I have to, or because I want to?
Is looking after Morgan a duty or a chore?
Should I answer as The Guardian, or as Alex Maximilian?
I turned to face Mufasa and gave him my answer.
"I would choose Morgan."
Mufasa looked at me with a heavy glare, but even then, it was hard to decipher which emotion fuelled it.
"Thank you for your honesty," he said. And with that, it felt like the tremors of an earthquake were spreading across the tides of fate. Or was it my heart? Is this what it feels like to lie to your own soul?
Unbeknowsnt to both of us, as fate would have it, Simba was more restless than Alex had realised, and had walked out of the den that hosted them that night. He had developed homesickness in the absence of someone to share in sleep. It had always been one of his father, mother, or Nala. And at that moment, he felt terribly lonely.
However, when he reached the mouth of the cave, the air carried his name as a mere whisper. He didn't like eavesdropping, but he also didn't like people talking about him in his absence.
He then heard his father ask of Alex who he would choose. 'What a weird question,' he thought. Alex had saved both him and Morgan in equal measure, and both at the same time. And Alex said as such in his answer.
But Mufasa asked the question and demanded an honest answer.
Simba waited what felt like the coming and passing of the first rainstorm of the wet season.
"I would choose Morgan," Alex said, and with that, Simba's heart shattered and he darted back into the deepest part of the den. He did not wish to be seen to cry.
A/N: Whew! Another hefty chapter over and done with. What is Simba going to do now he heard Alex's answer? What is Scar up to with his rhetoric, and will it work? I hope you all have a wonderful Christmas and a fantastic 2025, and thank you for being patient with me throughout the year. I hope to push on and make faster progress next year. Don't forget to leave a constructive review and to click the follow/favourite button to make sure you don't miss a moment.