"Circle of Flames"
          Kevin 'Tanzut' Kautzman.
          <tohanson@gcentral.com>

          	This is a story about flames and fire of all sorts. I owe it's
completion to quite a few people in my life, and they are who this is
dedicated to:
          	To Chris Weibe, for always standing by my side, and for showing
me that there are people out there that have a semblance of goodness inside
them.
          	To Eric, for not letting me slip and fall.
          	To the entire population of Serengeti Nights muck. You rule.
          	And finally, to my father. Inspiration can come in an infinate
number of forms, and the truth we were shown during TLK dealing with
death's weaknesses are completely true. Even after death loved ones stay
with you.

          Chapter1: A Perfect Round.
          	Umbwa crouched behind a plain looking bush surrounded by the
herds, packs, and families of the numerous animals that mingled about the
massive figure of Pride Rock. She watched with a hardened stare as the new
cub, Duama, was presented to the lands, skies, and sun. Her tutor of moons
before, Rafiki, held the cub in his hands as if he were a treasure.
            The rest of the animals, mindless dolts that they were, began
to trumpet, stamp, or bleat whatever pitiful joy they could for the birth
of a new male lion cub.
          	Sickened by the pompous display of power, Umbwa ambled away from
the main procession. The other animals, small and large, lined up to wait
their turn to see the royal family and its newest member up close.
          	Umbwa had little trouble moving among the shrubs so that she
remained out of sight during the entire ceremony. When finally freed from
the mass of hooves and fur, she turned back towards the looming shape of
the out jutting Pride Rock and gazed toward Rafiki once again, and let her
cold blue eyes look over the old monkey's form for a short time.
          	She continued her walk, letting her pace grow faster as she came
to a faded path along the savannah. When she was positive that she could
not be heard, she let her smirk turn into a chuckle.
          	There are more circles than the one that is life, all of which
Rafiki had failed to mention. He will learn another circle soon.
          	Revenge had driven Umbwa back to the Pride Lands, and its sweet
nectar would be hers at any cost

          	Rafiki struggled to hold back tears of happiness as he turned
away from the final stage of the presentation of Duama, which meant in the
Pride tongue, "circle". He could find no name more fitting.
          	His back, Rafiki found, was definitely not what it used to be,
but it didn't bother him too greatly. With the cloak of years came a wisdom
rivaled by few, and he was willing to pay the price of aching joints and
muscles.
          	He handed over the newborn to the waiting Simba and Nala, bright
smiles adorning both their muzzles. Just then the first of the animals,
others in the royal family, arrived to see the cub.
          	Duama's coat was a soft golden shade, lighter than his father's
but darker than his mother's. His eyes were a sparkle of the deepest green
imaginable, even moreso than Nala's. The cub was unique.
          	"You know, Simba . . .," Rafiki spoke in his usual, clipped
accent only to be cut off by Waka, a fiery adolescent. She vied to gain a
look at the ruling family's newest member.
          	"Ungh! Let me through, Mtoko, I'm the oldest and the biggest, I
should be first."
          	Almost all of Waka's litter-mates and cousins groaned as they
moved out of her way. She was the most commanding of the pride's younger
members, but that did not mean the others could not give her as hard a time
as possible in return for her bullying.
          	Even after making it to the front of the line, Waka, which meant
"blaze", was forced to wait as the adult females took their turns with the
newborn.
          	Sarabi was first to see the cub; no one questioned her right to
do so. She was an elder lioness now, but the light of living had yet to
escape her. Rafiki doubted that it soon would.
          	After shuffling in a quick side step to allow him a clear shot
with his gourd staff, Rafiki proceeded to poke Waka in the side with a fair
amount of force. "Patience, young one, and do not interrupt."
          	The mandrill's eyes turned from the youth toward Simba as the
former took a few startled steps back, only to lose her place in line. She
gave Rafiki and her siblings an obviously annoyed, slightly angered, look
before taking her place at the back of the line once again with a snort.
"Stupid monkey."
          	"As I was saying, Simba . . .," Rafiki continued for only a few
moments before letting his words trail off once again. The looks in
Simba's, Nala's, and the rest of the pride's eyes were things not to be
interrupted with words of ritual. Nothing could compare to the love between
a family, and Rafiki knew it.
          	Timon and Pumbaa (the two were rarely seen apart) stood near the
lions, and even Zazu, bobbing up and down in his usual excited manner, was
there.
          	Grasping his staff tightly in one hand, Rafiki began to make his
way down the path towards the Pride's Main sleeping chambers and finally
out into the bush and grasses. He nodded to various animals that he knew
from his travels around the lands. His bones ached from the morning's work.
Somehow, he knew that this was just the beginning: of another circle, of
another age, and of another story.

          	Shenzi, Banzai, and Ed sat listlessly around the gray skulls and
bones that made up their home. The litter mates slept inside a cavern made
up of the ribs of a very large animal of some sort.
          	Occasionally a vent in the cracked ground would heat up, bubble,
and then toss out a quick shot of steam before returning to dormancy again.
Things like that made living in the graveyard quite precarious at times,
and the sudden tectonic activity wasn't even the half of it: food, water,
and shelter were all things the hyenas were forced to compete for.
          	The only way you could be guaranteed a meal was to travel into
pride territory; it was not uncommon for a hyena not to return from such a
trek.
          	"Man, I hate lions," said Banzai.
             	Shenzi sighed. Poor, simple Banzai used that very same phrase
the day before, and the day before that, and, yes, the day before that. "I
know you hate lions, Banzai. I hate lions too."
             	Banzai shrugged slowly, "Just tellin' yah guys."
             	"Oooooh! Anahoolagney." Ed, who had been previously dozing
beside 	one of the vents for warmth, came quickly to life. He pointed to
something about a length away from him.
          	"What, Ed?" snapped Shenzi, turning towards the slightly stupid
member of their pack. Even calling him stupid was giving him credit. Ed had
had problems since he was a pup. Shenzi didn't even want to think about all
the things that happened to the poor male.
             	"Yeah, Ed, what is it?" Banzai had stood and was moving to
get a better look at what Ed had been pointing at. Ed, in the meantime, was
crouching down in an awkward pouncing position, his rump wagging in the
air.
             	Both Banzai and Shenzi watched, rapt, as Ed pounced into the
air with all his might. He did a full flip as he slammed into the ground,
his center of balance making his weight shift unexpectedly. He shook
himself off and turned towards the other two Hyenas, now with a large moth
in his clamped muzzle.
             	Shenzi turned to Banzai, rolling her eyes in annoyance. "At
least he's not starving like the rest of us."
             	"Yeah, I'm so hungry. . . I could. Well, you know."

          Chapter2: Legacy and Light.

             	Simba sat among the others in his family as they played with
Duama. Life had never been this good, and, from the looks of it, it could
only become better.
             	He had a loving family which consisted of his mother, Sarabi,
his three Aunts, a lioness that had no bloodrelation to him, and their
various offspring. Many of the lionesses had become pregnant during the
Shadow Times, the near mythical name for the period of Scar's rule. Not a
single one of the Pride Sisters had become pregnant from Scar, however.
             	It was unclear if Scar had sired cubs or not, but Simba knew
that during the Shadowed Times the mad king had found himself a rogue
lioness and had made an attempt to mate.
             	Last, but definitely not least of his family, was Nala. With
all his heart and with all his soul Simba loved her. The emotions he wished
he could express were often lost in his own awe at how much he actually did
feel for her. It was like being a cub again when she was near.
             	Simba's thoughts were interrupted by the shrill calling of
his name.
             	"Simba, you goof!" it was Timon, Simba's Meerkat friend.
"Look at him, Pumbaa. The last time I saw someone so starry eyed love
struck crazy was. . ."
            	"Since that time we found that other meerkat, and you--"
Pumbaa was forced to stop as Timon, startled by something Pumbaa was
presumedly going to say, had jumped up onto his mouth.
            	"Teemone," Pumbaa's words came out slow and muffled, his mouth
held shut by the panicked Meerkat."Wha are you doo-eng?"
             	Timon coughed loudly, clearing his throat. He darted a look
over his shoulder and flashed Simba a nervous smile. "C'mon Pumbaa, we're
going for a walk."
             	The meerkat proceeded to hop off Pumbaa and, before Pumbaa
could react, was strolling in the opposite direction and towards the main
cave of Pride Rock. "We'll see you later, Simba. Grubs to hunt, and. . .
more grubs to hunt, you know."
            	"Bye, Simba." Pumbaa gave Simba an awkward glance before
turning to follow after Timon.
             	Simba could not help but release a chuckle as the pair left.
One of his Aunts, Johari, was giving Simba quite an odd look of confusion.
            	"Timon and Pumbaa. You'll get used to them, don't worry, Johari."
            	"Yeah," The lioness rolled her eyes for a moment, but winked
towards Simba as she turned away,"I'm sure I will."
             	Johari was the mother to three cubs: Njana, Waka, and
Makalala (the others called her Maka), each of which had been sired by
Karama, the King of neighboring Pride Munja. Waka and Makalala kept strong
ties with their father, as did Johari. Karama was expected to ask her to
move in with his pride soon.
            	Simba dealt frequently with the much older Karama; he couldn't
help but see a bit of Mufasa in the neighboring king.
             	The family circled around the cub as each of the other
species of animals made their appearance. They reminded Simba of his duties
as a king, and that they weren't just to his immediate family.
                	Circle, never let me become what my uncle was.
            	Duama had definitely been having a busy first day. Surrounded
by his aunts, cousins, and his mother, he was busy making an attempt to
stand on all four paws. Each time he came off his haunches he would end up
tipping over. The other cubs, especially Waka, seemed interested in
teaching  young Duama the intricacies of walking, and it was confusing him.
            	Mtoko, the only male cub and the son of Adhama, one of the
pride sisters, sat near his cousins and siblings, indifferent the
possibility of a new playmate. Mtoko had been born late in the Shadowed
Times. He was sired by a Rogue lion named Jambazi, a massive lion who had
also sired a cub to Jaha, the fourth pride sister. The female cub was named
Keli.
             	Jaha and Adhama longed for and feared the day when Jambazi
would return and ask for his cubs. The time was far off, they hoped, and
worrying could solve nothing.
            	Jambazi had been a great lover, and an excellent distraction
from the problems of the Shadowed Times. The lionesses were not sure if
they wanted him back now that Simba had returned. It would be a day to
remember, that much was known.
             	The irony of the entire situation was that, unless Jambazi
returned soon, Mtoko would be forced into the same life his father held. He
would have to take the life of a rogue, fighting for food, territory, and
life itself against much more experienced lions. Simba hated the fact that
he might someday have to send Mtoko into that life; he vowed to prepare him
well.
            	Makalala, as usual, was left to the side in the festivities.
She was much smaller than her sister and was usually shrugged away when it
came to special events.
             	"Now, Waka, let Maka play with Duama," spoke Sarafina,
Sarabi's sister.
             	"Give me a break," spat Waka.
             	"Thanks, Aunt Sarafina," said Makalala as she moved past Waka
and toward the newborn.
             	Waka snorted softly and stuck out one of her hind legs in
order to trip the other adolescent. Makalala, oblivious to her doom, ended
up landing, muzzle first, against the hard earth. Both her nose and her
cheek scraped hard rock, and the pain, for those viewing her, seemed to be
intense
             	"Maka!" Johari stood from where she was speaking had been
speaking with Sarabi. "Are you alright?"
             	"I'm fine, mother," came the answer from the slightly bruised
Makalala as she shuffled to her paws.
             	Johali seemed satisfied with her daughter's answer; she gave
Makalala's muzzle a quick lick. Waka had slunk away to the opposite end of
the gathering.
            	"Look at him!" smiled Utaji, the pride sister not related by
blood. "He's walking."
            	Attention turned away from Makalala toward Duama. He had begun
to take his first steps. Even Makalala forgot the stinging pain across her
nose and cheek, enthralled by the cub's movements. Simba watched as his son
waddled to him, stopping only leg's length away.
            	"Come here, you rascal." Simba's worries were forgotten as he
peered at his son. With the rest of the pride and various other animals
watching, he corralled the cub into his own paws with one of his arms. "You
look so much like your mother."
             	"We can't forget the father. He has your nose, Simba," said
Nala as she leaned against Simba's side. She was an adult now, and her
grace had only grown since Simba's return. A queen in the perfect sense,
her responsibilities matched Simba's.
          	Sarabi and Johari were deep in conversation by now, and the
topic turned from those present to Karama.
          	"When do you think he will ask you to come back with him,
Johari?" asked Sarabi. "Njana is almost an adult now; it won't be long
until it's time for his mantlement." Her eyes skimmed over the various
young female lionesses present. "And as I understand, he has yet to take a
queen."
          	Johari chuckled softly as she watched the activity as a pair of
cheetahs stepped forward to view Duama. "I hope he comes soon. I love it
here dearly, that much you know, but. . .you understand how it is. I put
off the chance twice, and now that things are becoming better around here,
I think it's time to take what's offered."
          	Sarabi's smile warmed as she spoke. "Yes, Mufasa had been like
that. I think I miss sleeping next to him during the evenings the most: his
scent, his warmth. All those things can make life more bearable."
          	"Waka and Maka should learn more about their heritage from their
father as it is, before he passes through this cycle." Johari laughed, "I'm
not as young as I look."
          	From where Simba was sitting he managed to make out the
conversation clearly, and he was betraying his interest by the way he
stared. Keli snuck to his side and nosed him to gain his attention.
"Simba," she whispered. "Who is Njana?"
          	Simba, startled, turned away from the conversation between his
mother and aunt and to the adolescent. "The prince of the Sun Lands, out
across the hunting flats. He's Johari's cub."
          	Keli nodded her head in understanding and fell silent for a time
before starting up again abruptly. "Is he ever coming here to visit?"
          	Simba rest his tail atop Keli's head with a grin and yawned. "I'm not sure. Why the interest all of a sudden?"
          	Keli's ears pressed against the side of her head, and she
smiled. "Curious." She turned away from Simba and rushed toward her
brother, Mtoko's, side and started chittering rapidly. Simba could not pick
up any of the words, but his guess was probably as close to reality as one
could come.
          	The festivities continued, and the day began to pass away into
evening. The first day of life for Duama was coming to its end; oddly,
Simba felt the very same way. A new life, and a new chance to make things
right. He had won the first battle, but the struggles were far from over.

             	Umbwa stood, towering over the sleeping form of her filthy
meerkat companion, Chukizo. No other animals, save for the occasional
insect, were present in the area. In her peripheral vision she could see
the ridge that led downward into the elephant graveyard; the stench of
hyena was strong here. There was little question why the other animals
avoided this place.
            	Staring down at Chukizo, Umbwa couldn't help but smirk
outwardly. The meerkat really was pathetic, but he made the perfect
sidekick, a minion even.
            She found him about two moons ago while she had still been
traveling in and around the lands of pride Kaymje. He had literally bumped
into her, and she could not help but take opportunity of his predicament.
It was not difficult to get him to swear complete loyalty after disposing
of the half dozen screaming meerkats that followed shortly after his
arrival. Now he would do almost anything for her, and if he did not, she
would find a way to dispose of him like she had his family.
             	Umbwa prodded Chukizo with an extended finger only to watch
his dozing figure curl up in a tight fetal position and continue sleeping.
             	"Get up," she spoke, taking a short pause to give the meerkat
a chance to react. When he did not, her tone changed drastically. "I said
'get up' now!" A quick jab with her clenched fist sent the meerkat
sprawling to his back.
             	"What. . .what?" Chukizo questioned in a drowsy tone. "Oh,
it's you." The meerkat spoke as he came to his hind legs, shaking what dust
he could off his matted fur. "Morning." It was well into the afternoon.
             	"Of course it's me. Now get yourself together. We've got work
to do." Umbwa glanced, once again, to the graveyard. Her eyes trailed back
toward the meerkat as he yawned in a futile attempt to become completely
awake.
             	Chukizo groaned as he thought about what she had said. "Not
again. Please, Umbwa, can we just leave this alone?" Chukizo worried about
questioning her; she was not exactly a pleasant animal.
             	Umbwa's eyes flared in anger, yet she responded in a cold,
calm voice. "Yes, Chukizo, without the help of at least a few hyenas this
will never work." She spoke as a mother would speak to a cub, but in such a
way that it would mock any animal with even an ounce of dignity. It was a
good thing that Chukizo did not have any.
              	"But the last time we went into the graveyard. . ."  he whined.
              	"I'll keep them from trying to grab your tail again,
alright? Is that better?"
             	Chukizo stood off his rear when Umbwa offered to stop the
hyena's annoying habit of snapping at his tail.
             	"If you say so. Just promise me one thing."
             	Umbwa had already begun to move in the direction of the
graveyard, her pace slow as to allow the meerkat to keep up. "What's that?"
             	Chukizo jogged with his small legs to keep up.
             	"When this is over with, can we 'puh-lease' take out a few of
the hyenas, especially that one they call Banzai. He annoys me."
             	The mandrill continued her walk and, when hearing the
meerkat's request, let her face crack in cackling laughter. "We'll see
about that"
             	The pair kept pace until they reached the edge of the
graveyard. The lands nearby were as barren as the actual home of the
hyenas. Umbwa and Chukizo moved down the ridge and out of the Pride Lands,
the sun high in the midday sky.

          Chapter3: Memories of Loss.

              	Rafiki debated turning back towards Pride Rock to partake in
the ceremonies, but he decided against it. He walked among the dried
grasses that covered the savannah in sparse patches. The afternoon sun was
warm on his back, and the air, he noticed, was becoming quite dry.
             	Another drought?
             	He cast his thought aside as the massive acacia tree he
called his home came into view over the rise. His mind wandered back to the
Shadowed Times. They seemed so far off, yet they were still so close. Many
of the wounds that had been driven into the land and its inhabitants during
that period would take more than a few moons to heal. He hoped to do
something to speed up the recovery.
             	The old baboon came to the base of his home and began the
tedious climb upward. He did so with a grace that betrayed his age.
             	During the Shadowed Times Rafiki had been watched almost
constantly by a pair of hyenas who had been assigned the job of guarding
him. It was obvious that Scar had feared Rafiki. Had the attempt to escape
not succeeded . . . Rafiki did not dare to think what might have come of it
all. It was, in part, his coaxing that drove Simba to return home.
             	He reached the area of the tree just below the canopy and
pushed away various gourds, vines, and herbs. He moved into his place of
rest.
            	The icon that represented Simba still showed itself on the
bark, though it was fading with the passing days. He moved, grasping a
fresh gourd, which he promptly split in two. After dipping his hand into
its center, he made the mark over the newly painted design representing
Duama.
            	His thoughts wondered, as they often did while he worked, to
the prospect of having a family. The scene after the presentation reminded
him of the one thing he was lacking in his life. Sometimes he regretted not
settling down with a mate, but the feeling was fleeting. He had had a
satisfying life here, and regretting past decisions was something he would
not do for any length. Besides, his time was far from over.
            	After consecrating Duama's design, Rafiki grasped his turtle
shell bowl with both hands, set it on the ground, and picked up a pair of
small stones.
            	The stones, and what they could do, were things that he had
not shown another living soul. He had nearly given away their secrets to
only one other animal: his first, and only, apprentice. Her name had been
Umbwa.
            	Rafiki sat back as his thoughts trailed to those times when he
had someone he could call a daughter, if not by blood, but by spirit.

             	Rafiki had been walking along the banks of one of the many
streams that crisscrossed the vast Pride Lands. He squinted as, off in the
distance, the form of a young Mandrill came into view. He came to within a
length of the figure and still had not been noticed. She was sitting on the
shore, close to the running water.
             	"Good afternoon," said Rafiki.
             	The other Mandrill had been startled. She stood quickly, and
turned to face him. "Who are you?" She peered towards Rafiki like he was
the strangest thing she had ever seen.
             	"My name is Rafiki. What do they call you, child?"
             	"'They' call me Umbwa," she countered, sounding both
frightened and sarcastic. "Why should you care?"
             	"Oh, ho, Rafiki care about many things." Judging by the size
of her gut, he made the assumption that she had not eaten in days. "Are you
hungry?" He laid his staff to the earth, and pulled a gourd free from its
thin end, offering it to her as he spoke.
            	"Yeah. . .I am, actually." Umbwa took the gourd and cracked it
open, looking up towards Rafiki for a few moments before devouring the
fruity insides.

             	It took some persuasion and a few more gourds to get Umbwa to
follow Rafiki back to his home. She ate the food that he had offered to her
in what had to be record time.
            	After their first meeting at the bank of the stream Umbwa
accompanied Rafiki most everywhere he went. Time passed, and the only
moments that the two were apart were when Rafiki held council with animals
or used magicks and tools he was sure Umbwa was not ready to know about.
She had always been curious, though, and had little trouble finding
something to occupy herself during those rare occasions.
             	Taking on a student kept Rafiki busy. Between the usual
rituals, sessions with Mufasa's pride, and teaching Umbwa the ways of the
Shaman, he had little time to relax.
             	The moons passed, and Umbwa grew older. She angered easily,
and Rafiki tried many times to determine why. Something had happened to her
long ago that had caused her to flee her home, that was obvious enough;
whenever he inquired about it, she shrugged him off. There was nothing, it
seemed, that would persuade her to tell of her past. Determined to make the
best of everything, Rafiki began to focus on the present.
             Umbwa was interested in the things that meant power, but not
in the theology of Shamanism. She passed through her lessons on the true
Circle with melancholy effort, only to become completely enthralled in the
ability to reach into another animals past through simple conversation and
magic. A magic, yes, but one that came through an understanding of oneself
and the circle.  Her lack of understanding and self control, and her lust
for the powers of the shaman were things Rafiki began to worry about more
and more with every passing day.

             	Rafiki was amazed at how quickly the time passed as he
reminisced. Something was not right though; he could feel it. He took the
two pieces of flint and, smashing them together over the turtle's bowl,
started a small fire with the dried grass. He stared into the fire as his
thoughts turned back to Umbwa and the fateful day of her disappearance.

             	It was shortly before Simba's birth, and the drought had been
particularly bad that season. Umbwa had come to a point where she was even
more anxious about the powerful Circle magicks that Rafiki knew, and she
was not willing to wait any longer.
             	They sat among the grasses near the base of Rafiki's tree,
talking as they often did. The sun was fading over the horizon while the
conversation reached a point that Umbwa had been meaning to come to for
quite some time.
             	"Rafiki," Umbwa spoke,"when will you teach me everything? I
know that there are things you're keeping secret from me."
             	"Yes, child, there are. I will not lie about that, and you
know it. Rafiki will teach you when you are ready to learn."
             	"But I am ready, " Umbwa stood, searching for the right
words,"and I'm not a child!"
             	Rafiki motioned his hands calmingly in the air before
replying,"No, you are not ready. If you were ready you would not be so
anxious to prove that you are capable. You will be ready when Rafiki say
so, no sooner. Please, chi. . Umbwa, you must understand that Rafiki keeps
these things secret for your own good. The two tell me what they will and
nothing more. You are not ready."
             	Rafiki spoke of the two gods of creation: Siki and Kabaila,
the lady and lord. They represented balance and chaos, light and dark. Like
the circle, the two were a major part of the lives and myths of the animals
of the Pride Lands and beyond. In fact, they and the circle were oftentimes
inseparable in conversation.
             	Umbwa blinked tears of rage from her eyes as she, once again,
looked for the correct response. Finding nothing and with emotions she'd
never known welling up in her heart, she darted away after blurting out:
             	"I've seen the flames, Rafiki. . . and I don't give a damn
about your gods."
             	Rafiki remained seated until Umbwa had gone. He stood as the
sun set completely, its fiery form sending shades of orange, red, and
yellow across the lands. The shadows were long as he fell to sleep, alone
in the branches, that night. Umbwa was gone, and, somehow, he knew she
would not be back.

             	Rafiki sat, cross legged, among his tools. He still held the
bowl with the grasses burning inside. A lone tear fell from his face and
into the flames, creating a loud sizzling sound. So long ago he had lost
that chance at a family. He knew it was not his fault, but he regretted it
nonetheless. There were so many things could have been done differently.
            	What's done is done, and what's past is past. The Gods choose
what they will, and that path is the one that will be tread. Worrying about
it can't help , you old buffoon.
            	Rafiki smiled weakly as he rested the bowl down to the tangled
mesh of branches that made his sleeping area. It was the middle of the
afternoon now, and there were things to be done.  That strange feeling kept
creeping up on him, and he was determined to find out what was causing it.
            	Maybe it's the weather.
            	He turned his back to the bowl and the rest of his tools as he
picked up his staff, beginning to climb downward.
            	A large leaf fell from overhead and landed in the bowl. The
dying embers came to life and the dried lead caught fire. The flames grew a
final time; then they died. Rafiki did not see the flare of the flame, but
he could feel it. He could feel it.

          Chapter4: The Perfect Plan.

             	"Let me get this straight," spoke Banzai from his perch atop
a large mammoth skull. "We help you take down that crazy monkey guy, and
you'll do what for us?"
            	"He's a mandrill and, like I said before, you'll have a place
in the Pride Lands completely to yourselves. The animals there will be
forced to move elsewhere, or else they will die, it's quite simple," said
Umbwa, her tone controlled and bargaining. "What don't you understand about
that?"
             	This was not the first time Umbwa had dealt with these
particular hyenas; she knew that the one called Shenzi held power here. No
matter how annoying they became, the hyenas were a source of cheap labor
that could easily be disposed of once used properly.
            	"Let me get this straight," repeated Banzai
            	"We got it, we got it," said Shenzi in a very annoyed tone.
She darted a look towards Banzai and Ed, then towards Umbwa and Chukizo.
"What I don't understand is why we don't just pass over all this fancy
stuff and make a meal out of you two here and now." She was serious.
          	It took a quick wit which, luckily, Umbwa possessed, to think of
a smooth response. "Because you know I can get you what you want. I'm not
talking about sharing this piece of the Pride Lands with the other animals,
I'm talking about complete control. Queen Shenzi, if you'd like. All I want
is Rafiki."
          	Shenzi, Banzai, Ed, Umbwa, and Chukizo lay, deep within Hyena
territory, around the larger skull of a long dead elephant.  Ed presently
say behind Chukizo, forcing the Meerkat to constantly look over his
shoulder lest he be snatched up by hungry jaws. Shenzi, after hearing
Umbwa's declaration, shouted at Ed:
          	"Stop it, Ed, we'll eat later," she gave a long, hard look to
Chukizo as she addressed Umbwa. "And what's that thing here for?"
          	"What?" Umbwa still had not realized that Shenzi spoke of the
meerkat.
          	"That little thing over there," Shenzi motioned towards the
frightened animal, who was moving ever closer towards Umbwa.
           	"Oh, yeah, he's going to be helping me in my part of the plan,"
said Umbwa.
           	"How do we know you're not just going to toss us aside,"
blurted Banzai in his most skeptical voice. "We don't want a pack . .
.yeah, pack of lions on our tails. Isn't that right, Ed?"
             	Ed looked up from where he was sneaking towards the wary
Chukizo. "Noohg. . .weg lioning, cub sammich." He then sat, intent on
watching the meerkat cling fearfully to Umbwa.
             	Both Shenzi and Banzai snickered, if somewhat dryly.
             	"Right. So, what's the incentive?" said Shenzi.
             	Umbwa had not thought about what she would offer in case the
plan did not succeed, but she was quick to come up with something, to the
utter dismay of her minion. "If everything I've promised you isn't
delivered, then we are yours for the taking."
             	She spoke with such confidence that the hyena trio was
inclined to believe her. Only Shenzi, it seemed, remained the least bit
skeptical. She motioned Umbwa and Chukizo away for a moment, and the pair
obliged.
             	"You think this monkey's the real thing, huh?" said Banzai.
             	"Oooog. . .needpoo," replied a confused Ed. He still could
not pick up the common tongue, and so he had devised a language all his
own.
             	"Shut up, Ed. I think this is worth a shot. I don't know if
these two can back up everything that they're flaunting, but I can't see
how we could lose from this," said Shenzi.
             	"Yeah, yeah, let's do it," said Banzai.
             	Ed nodded quickly, his eyes attached to Umbwa and Chukizo.
The two waited just a few lengths out of hearing distance.
             	"All right," said Shenzi, though loudly now,"you got yourself
a deal, Sista'."
             	Umbwa smiled ruefully as she began to walk back to the
hyenas' sides, dragging Chukizo along. "Good. Listen to what I've come up
with. We haven't forever."
             	To the hyenas this prospect was perfect. No matter how poorly
things went, they were promised a meal.
            	The five of them remained there long into the afternoon, with
Shenzi and Umbwa leading the way. The two, with occasionally input from
Banzai, discussed the plan that Umbwa had been concocting in her mind's eye
for the past few days. By the time everything was organized, both Ed and
Chukizo were sound asleep, the latter still clinging onto Umbwa.
             	Umbwa, as the conversation between the three awake animals
came to an end, shook Chukizo to consciousness. With the same quiet
confidence that had originally brought her to the graveyard, she began the
walk back to safer territories for sleep. She tugged with her the still
dozing Chukizo, and turned to face the hyenas only once.
             	"Tomorrow at high sun, do not forget your part in the bargain!"
             	"Oh, don't you worry about us," said Banzai and Shenzi in
unison. "Just be sure you get the job done."
             	As Umbwa and Chukizo faded over the horizon, Banzai turned to
Shenzi, a tired grin transversing his muzzle,"This is gonna be good."

          Chapter5: When Gods Forget.

            	Jambazi worked his way through the grasses just downwind from
the elephant graveyard. His bulky mass would have been a sure giveaway had
the time of day been different. Dawn had not yet crept across the lands,
and for now he was safe from prying eyes.
            	The strange sounds of mass movement alerted him to something
happening near the graveyard. He had not survived that many seasons as a
rogue on just dumb luck.
            	He was a huge lion by any standards, and a skilled fighter. He
had been exiled from his father's pride when he was barely an adolescent,
out of simple fear, by his older brother. Jambazi had been a threat to his
brother's receiving the kingdom, so it was thought.
            	His fur was a dark shade of brown, fading to black at his mane
and paws. He wore dozens of scars across his pelt proudly, for they were
reminders of many battle already fought.
            	He had sired cubs only twice, and these, the Pride Lands, were
home to the two lionesses he had been drawn to. His plan had been to
overthrow the ruling tyrant they called Scar, but he had been driven away
by the local hyenas before he could even make his threat known to the wiry
male.
            	This had forced him to leave the two pregnant lionesses before
he could ever know his cubs. He had loved both Adhama and Jaha, not really
out of his heart, but out of necessity. Being alone was hard, and he had nev
er really forgiven the hyenas, or Scar, for being driven away from a chance
at love.
          	Adhama had been his true love, but Jaha had seemed so needy.
Both were great mates, and both had been needy, but Adhama was something
special. The way her eyes glowed brown in the poor lighting of the evening
during their secret meetings was something Karama would never forget, no
matter how he would deny that fact if approached. He was known throughout
the lands as a threat to the ruling order, not a soft lover of lionesses.
Image was important in the life of a rogue.
            	Now that Scar had been overthrown, and the Pride Lands
returned to relative peace, he could meet his cubs. That was, of course, if
the cubs had made it through birth successfully. They would be young yet,
but the time to alert them of their birthright was coming quickly. He had
vowed long ago not to tell them until he had a kingdom of his own. Only
then would he return for them.
            	Now, however, he was in the Pride Lands only for travel.
Across the broad savannah, toward the rising sun, lay the lands of Pride
Munja. Karama, the king there, was said to be sickly and closer to death
than ever. Soon would be the time to strike.
            	Those noises were growing, as was Jambazi's curiosity. He made
his way out from the grasses silently and padded through the parched, gray
lands surrounding the rim of the graveyard. His blue eyes peered from their
deep-sunken sockets as he reached the ridge. The sight that greeted him was
nothing less than amazing. Dozens of them gathered together. Dozens.

            	The night had been spent gathering up the stray packs of
hyenas that occupied the lands of the graveyard. It had not been difficult
for Shenzi and Banzai to work the hyenas into a frenzy of excitement. They
were making another attempt at a better life! Only this time they were not
working to take Pride Rock; they were looking to take only a patch of
territory in the Pride Lands. From there they would plot to gain more, but
anywhere was better than the scorched lands of the pungent boneyard.
            	Now, as dawn approached, Shenzi worked at the task of
organizing the hyenas under her command, a much more difficult job than she
had expected. Last time she had Scar to do the work for her. Sure sometimes
he got annoying, but at least having him had kept her from having to work
her tail off.
            	"Come on! Come on! Move!" screamed Shenzi from the front of
the congregation of hyenas.
            	"Weeeg pot! Weeeg pot! Neeeeeeeeeh!" yelled Ed, standing a few
lengths to Shenzi's side.
            	Banzai was busy snapping the stragglers into position. The
three had, if anything, earned the respect of their comrades for their
limited success in dealing with Scar. Now they were risking that respect
for the chance to hold a greater power.
            	It was not yet dawn, but the sky was starting to tint a light
blue overhead. The hyenas began to wait, nearly a hundred eyes locked upon
the ridge that would first show the light of dawn.  A few pairs of eyes
managed to make out a lingering form move quickly away from the ridge and
back in the direction of the Pride Lands.

            	Jambazi ran. There were more hyenas gathered there than any
time he had seen before now. Something was happening, that much was clear.
What, he did not really bother to consider, but he was forced into a change
of plans.
            	His legs carried him past the Pride Lands and in the direction
of the rising sun. Its golden beams broke over the horizon as Johari found
himself within Pride Munja's, the Sun Land's, borders.

              	Umbwa jogged through the tall, grassy hills that made up the
terrain around Rafiki's tree. Chukizo lagged behind, barely managing to
keep up. In either of her padded hands Umbwa held a dark black stone. Dawn
was moments away, and the dimness of the light reflected strangely on the
two rocks. The ability they held were as mysterious as they were powerful:
fire, glorious fire, could be created with a simple smashing of the two
stones against one another.
             	With heavy breaths the two reached the base of the large
tree.  There was no time for memories, for now they had to work out a plan.
            	Umbwa handed one of the two stones to Chukizo, who in turn
took it carefully. It was as large as his tiny hands could manage.
            	"Hurry up," said Umbwa with a glance over her shoulder. "We
don't have too much time now.
            	With a nod, the meerkat scurried up the cracks in the side of
the massive tree and was lost from sight. He returned into view moments
later, worriedly working his way back down to the tree's base.
            	"Good, good, now keep moving," said Umbwa. She handed the
second stone to the panting Chukizo.
            	As before, the meerkat wound his way up to the branches and
out of view. Umbwa waited impatiently for a sign that the plan was working,
and it came. Tiny sparks lit up from inside the branches and leaves that
created the tree's canopy. The sparks grew in moments to be small fires.
            	Chukizo nearly fell from the tree as he made his final journey
downward. Umbwa pushed him over as he came to the ground, beaming. His
smile was quickly replaced by a scowl as he picked himself off the ground.
            	Umbwa grabbed the two stones and darted to the hillside they
had previously come from.  Chukizo followed silently, not bothering to
voice the pain she had just caused him from the shove. He watched as Umbwa
smashed the stones together once, twice, and then three times. The sparks
flew, and the dry grasses were lit with small fires. With that done, Umbwa,
her eyes full of vengeance, backed away from the growing flames. Chukizo
ran on all fours to her side and stood there to watch as the hungry blaze
worked its way up the hillside, the wind at their backs.
            	Up in the tree, birds were already starting to take flight.
The smoke rose high into the air as the sun shattered the night and brought
day.
            	Umbwa scooped Chukizo into her hands and allowed him to
scramble on her shoulder, and she ran away laughing.

          Chapter6: When Gods Remember.

            	It was early morning, and all of the pride was asleep save for
two of the pride sisters: Adhama and Jaha. They lay restlessly on their
stomachs, each one cuddled against their particular cub: Mtoko and Keli,
constant reminders of Jambazi.
          	Each of the cubs shared some of their father's features. They
had his nose, and both of their dark, almost black, coats of fur were a
testament to their heritage. Neither of the pair fit in well, appearance
considered, with the rest of the cubs and adolescents.
            	Something seemed different about this morning to each of the
lionesses, though neither had yet voiced their concern. In fact, the
sisters had no idea that the other had been kept awake through the long
morning hours by worried thoughts.
             	Jaha stirred to stand only to be held in place by the
sleeping Keli.
            	"Jaha, is that you," whispered Adhama from her place a few
steps away up against the cave wall.
            	"Adhama, What are you doing up?" came the reply from Jaha,
fully awake.
            	"I don't know," came the reply. "But I can't get to sleep.
Something's . . ."
            	"Something's wrong. Yes, I feel it too. Do you think it's. . .
are you thinking about Jambazi?"
             	The two lionesses shared a common bond of both sisterhood and
a shared mate. They knew about Jambazi's affection for one another, and
they did not let it stop them from returning the care to the rogue male.
The times of Scar's rule were lonely for all the lionesses; Jambazi, for
the time they had known him, had been a release from that pain.
            	"I don't know if I'm thinking about him or not," said Adhama,
the older of the two. "Maybe the heat's getting to me."
          	"Or maybe it's a sign. The two work like that sometimes. That's
what Rafiki says, anyway."
          	"A sign?" questioned Adhama, unbelieving. "You don't really think he could be coming back now, do you?"
          	"Why wouldn't be come back? He knew when he had to go that we
were with cubs. He is their father."
          	Jaha shook her head profusely. "You really think he remembers
us? I'm sure he's found himself a queen by now, even a kingdom."
          	"Lioness, I don't know about you, but I gave him something to
remember," replied Adhama with a smirk. "Besides, he said he loved me, and
he said he loved you. I think he was sincere, no matter how hard it is to
believe." With a glance to Keli and Mtoko, she added: "They have never had
a father. They deserve one. I hope he comes back now that things are
getting better."
          	"But what if he wants us to come away with him?" whimpered Jaha.
"I'm not ready for that now. The pride is too important to me here, you
know that."
          	"Even if you were to be a queen?" grinned Adhama. "Queen Jaha.
Think about it."
          	Jaha shrugged her shoulders and began to stare toward her
sister. "You mean you would leave if he came back?"
          	Adhama flicked her ears sideward in a show of indifference. "I
never said that, sister. I know I would consider it."
          	"We knew him for less than a moon! How can you be ready to give
up your life here just like that?" asked Jaha, unbelieving. "I know he said
he loved us, but how can we be sure?"
          	"I just am. If he came back today, I would be hard pressed to
make a decision; it wouldn't be easy. It could never be easy to leave
here."
          	"I wouldn't want to keep you from him if you felt life would be
better like that. All I'm saying is that he might not come back." Jaha took
a shallow breath and went on. "He may be dead."
          	"You remember him. You have to.  He's too smart to let himself
get killed easily. It would take a lot to strip him from the circle early,
and we gave him the inspiration of knowing he may have cubs living here."
          	"So you really believe he'll be back?"
          	"Yes, I do."
          	With those words the dawn came, and with it hung morning like a
cub between a mother's jaws. The two lionesses stood tiredly and yawned,
nuzzling one another affectionately. They stepped out to the promitory for
a joint viewing of the sunrise, something the two did quite often.
            	Jaha was not as socially forward a lioness as Adhama, and
Adhama was not as strong a huntress as Jaha, but together they worked
seamlessly. They were the counterpart to their other sisters: Sarafina and
Sarabi.
            	All five of the pride sisters, including Utaji, the once rogue
not related by blood, were close, but none were as often together as Adhama
and Jaha.
            	The sun crept fully over the hills as the two watched. Behind
them they could hear the stirring of bodies as the rest of the pride began
to wake.
            	Mtoko stepped from inside the cave, always an early riser, and
to Adhama's side. He nuzzled his mother's haunches to draw her attention
away from the dawn. "Morning, Mom," he said drowsily.
            	Adhama returned the nuzzle with a lick to the male cub's head.
"Good morning, sleepy."
            	Jaha turned fully around and faced the cave as the pride began
their daily ritual of stretching, yawning, and greeting.
            	Away from the promitory the loud call of a particular hornbill
could be heard growing nearer. "Sire!"
            	Only Adhama heard the calling. Her tail lashed behind her as
she perked her ears, attempting to hear more clearly. The form of a
smaller-than-average hornbill came into view, the sun at his back. It was
Zazu, and he was frantic.
            	"Simba!" yelled Adhama from her place on the promitory. The
rest of the pride turned their heads, almost in unison, to where she was
calling from as Simba pulled himself to his paws and walked forward,
concerned.
            	"What's wrong, Adhama?" he asked with a nudge to her shoulder.
Nala had stepped to his side by then. She watched the exchange with
curiosity.
            	"There! Out there!" replied Adhama. She waved a paw to where Zazu was flapping closer.
            	"Sire!" screamed the bird, now well within hearing range. "Simba!"
            	Each of the four lions occupying the promitory backed slightly
to the side as Zazu performed a crash landing between them. He pulled
himself to his feet and brushed off his sides with his wings frantically.
With a flustered bow, he spoke, "Sire, the hyenas," Zazu gasped. "They're
moving through the Pride Lands."  	Simba's brow crossed in a mixture of
angst and worry as he turned to face the rest of the pride, cutting off
Zazu from continuing, "Everyone stay here and watch the cubs, I have to
reach Rafiki. Zazu, tell me the rest on the way."
            	Simba's footsteps fell hard against the warm stone of Pride
Rock. The rest of the Pride's members: Sarabi, Sarafina, Adhama, Jaha,
Johari, Utaji, Waka, Makalala, Mtoko, Keli, Nala, and finally little Duama,
watched wordlessly while their king darted past them and out of the cave.
            	After Simba had gone, Duama waddled over to Nala carefully. He
sat to his haunches next to her and smiled, not understanding the danger
his father was about to face.
          	All but the adults were at least somewhat oblivious to what
exactly was happening. The younger lions had been too young to remember the
times of the hyenas' rule over the Pride Lands. They did not know what
could happen should Simba fall. If the king were to die for any reason,
there would be many rogues willing to fill his place.
            	Nala held in tears. She was a queen now. It was her duty to
maintain order while Simba was away. "Everyone, just remain calm," she
said, her voice shaky. "Simba can deal with them. He did once before, and
he will do it again."
            	With that, Nala took Duama between her jaws and placed him
back inside the cave. The rest of the Lionesses huddled the young ones
together inside their sleeping quarters and waited for word from Zazu, who
had flown to help Simba.
            	Timon and Pumbaa managed to, through it all, remain asleep,
Timon resting peacefully upon Pumbaa's bulging gut.

          Chapter7: The Fire Grows.

            	Rafiki had fallen asleep in his usual place among the tools of
his shaman trade. His day had been a long one, and he had no trouble
working himself into rest.
            	One of those odd dreamless nights worked itself upon Rafiki
where, almost magically, one closes his eyes only to open them and find
that many hours had passed.
            	Smoke.
            	"By the kings!"
             	Rafiki pulled himself off his back and stood, eyes burning as
he peered around his now haze-filled home. He could not see the source of
the thick cloud of smoke that plagued him, but he of all animals understood
that where there is smoke, there is fire.
             	The stones! He had to find the stones. His chest was already
beginning to ache, and he knew that if he did not escape from this tree
soon, he would suffocate. His hands groped around the various branches in
search of the stones and his staff. Within moments he had the items in hand
and was moving down through the branches of the tree, his vision obscured.
            	Crashing past layer after layer, he made his way in the
direction of the ground, billows of smoke filling his chest with each raspy
breath. Out of the darkness below he could feel heat, intense heat, rising
upward. He nearly screamed in panic as he came out from a group of branches
and hung by only his staff over a mass of burning leaves.
            	Pulling himself upward with what he was sure had to be his
last few ounces of strength, Rafiki raced away from the encroaching flames.
He crashed through the tree now, oblivious to his direction, doing anything
to get away from the fire.

            	The mass of hyenas stomped their way through the morning
grasses, led by Shenzi with Banzai snapping at any stragglers. All were
welcomed on this exodus, from pups to the oldest male or female.
            	"Move, move, move!" boomed Shenzi as she tried to get the group to move at a faster pace. They were at least forty heads strong. She had not bothered to count for an exact number.
            	Surely the Queen was with them, thought many of the excited
hyenas. The hyanic religion was a loosely formed one, lacking shamans or
healers. The head figure was a goddess with the body of a hyena: Fisi. She
was said to have pulled a mass of stars together, and with them she created
the moon and the first of the hyenas in a great and glorious time before
there were spotted cats, black cats, or even lions.
            	The morning air was fresh in the Pride Lands, and the animals
blocking their path were quick to scurry away lest they be trounced. For
all purposes, the hyenas looked to be like a herd of smaller wildebeest
moving in migration. This journey would be told around the land for seasons
to come: a great and glorious struggle for a better place to live.
          	In their wake, animals would crawl forth to reclaim what was
left of their trampled homes: cheetahs, meerkats, and other species were
left with their lands plowed and their homes torn. The herd animals kept
clear of the oncoming slew of hyenas, and the smaller animals could do
nothing but wait and hope.
            	In the far distance the mandrill's tree that would be the
hyena's final destination loomed in view. The smoke already flowed from it,
as was expected, and the flames lapped at its leaves hungrily. If the
monkey had not perished yet, he would be taking his final breaths of the
poison air as the moments passed. No one could survive that.

            	Simba ran as fast as he could possibly manage. His muscles
bulged in strain from beneath his pelt of golden fur. Zazu had gone ahead
as a scout back at the main watering hole.
            	From overhead came the voice of the hornbill. Zazu had managed
to return without Simba noticing; he was so focused on the run to Rafiki's
tree:
            	"Sire! The hyenas, a whole herd of them, are moving in the
direction of Rafiki's tree," squawked Zazu between flaps.
            	Simba nodded his acknowledgement but saved his breath for the
run ahead. He veered eastward on a path that he hoped would allow him to
intercept the mass of hyenas.
            	This was going to be the first time he had to deal with a
group of the scavengers who had overtaken his land with the help of his
uncle since the fight that had been fought to regain the kingship. It was
important that he succeed today. With a victory would come a respect that
could last him to his final days, or at least until the hyenas tried again.

            	The edge of the leaves took Rafiki by surprise as the bright
morning sunlight hit his parched face. He gasped in air between coughs and
looked all around. He was still high up in the tree, and it seemed there
was no way to escape.
            	He began to slide downward when his weight grew to be too
great for the thin branches. All around him the smoke billowed, and as he
glanced downward, he realized that the surrounding lands were ablaze. This
was going to be more difficult than he had thought.
            	His movements took him to the lowest branches possible before
he stopped. The flames were eating their way outward quickly, and his
weight strained the thinned branches more and more by the second. He tossed
his gourd staff and stones down to the earth below.
             	Rafiki jumped.

            	The tree came into view in the far distance and Simba
continued his run. Zazu flew overhead, keeping pace, and occasionally
offering insight as to what lay ahead.
            	Kabaila! The tree's burning.
            	"Zazu!" roared Simba. "Fly ahead and find Rafiki!"
            	Without so much as a chirp, Zazu spread his wings and, in a
burst of speed, shot himself in an upward arc. Simba's gaze worked itself
across the wide expanse of hills and dried grasses that occupied his line
of sight. The tree itself was full of smoke, as were the lands surrounding
it.
            	He pressed his way through the grasses to a point on an
already scorched hillside. The dying embers singed the pads of his paws as
he slowed to a walk, his ears perked for any sound that might indicate a
troupe of oncoming hyenas.
            	He got more than he had bargained for when, off in the
distance, he heard what could only be the sounds of paws against dried
grass en mass.
          Swiveling his ears to find the source of the vibrations, he
arched his head to gain a better view. The smoke was thin here, but it
still managed to annoy the senses.
            	His mane was tangled and dirty from the run he had just
performed, and it fell ungracefully over his eyes. With a paw he pushed it
aside and was forced to step backward, startled, by the sight that greeted
his cleared vision:
            	Hyenas, throngs and throngs of hyenas, filled his vision. They
came across the brown grasses like a mass of hungry antelope, their heads
bobbing in strange, euphoric unison as they trampled the lands before them.
Zazu chose this moment to make his return known. He had landed silently
next to the lion king and also had been drawn into awe-filled silence by
the sight ahead of him.
             	"Ssss . . . Simba?" quivered Zazu.
             	"Yeah?" replied the shaky king, already starting to step
backward and away from the oncoming force.
             	"Rafiki isn't in the tree."
              	With the words spoken, Simba nodded. His mane hung unchecked
over his eyes, and he turned to face Rafiki's burning home. The early
morning light lingered on each of the flaming hills as the hyenas claimed
more and more of the territory.
             	"Zazu, go . . . go back and tell my family about what
happened. Make sure they stay together, and," he paused for a moment, eyes
fixed on the still rising sun. "And tell them that I love them."
          					
          Chapter8: Fading Hopes.

            	Karama, bathed in morning light, lounged on the plateau his
pride used for their main sleeping grounds. The view was a grand one, but
not as epic in proportion to that of the neighboring Pride Rock. It meant
much to the lions living there.
            	He was aged, yes, but hopes were strong that he would live
long enough to pass on the kingship formally to his son, Njana. Njana had
been born to Johari of the Pride Lands during the time of Scar. Ever since
then, the relationship between Pride Munja and the newly restored Pride
Simba had been one based on friendship and trust.  	Two female had also
been birthed to Johari during those seasons: Waka and Makalala. Karama had
offered Johari a place to live with his pride, but she had respectfully,
and almost regrettably, declined. She had  not been willing to leave her
pride sisters.
            	When Njana had been born, there had been no grand ceremony,
even though he was destined to hold the kingship of Pride Munja. Njana's
birth had to be kept secret from Scar, and the young cub had been quickly
taken to live with Pride Munja, much to his mother's grief. She understood,
however, that it was a necessary for them to do. Scar could have not been
trusted.
            	As the affair continued, Karama and Johari grew closer and
closer together. Karama had no queen, as Pride Munja's blood had been
thinned through inbreeding, and his plan had been to offer Johari the
title. She had refused again, with tears in her eyes, and had returned to
the horrible situation in the Pride Lands. Her love for her sisters then
was too strong for even Karama to break.
            	Njana grew, as did his two sisters who were being raised,
against Karama's better judgment, in the Pride Lands. When Simba made his
return, all of these things seemed to be able to change.
            	The mantlement of the new ruler of Pride Munja, Njana, was to
take place as soon as Karama worked up the nerve to ask Johari to move in
with the Pride, bringing Waka and Makalala along with her. He had no idea
how she would react this time, but he wished more than anything to live his
final days out with the lioness who had captured his heart.
            	Gazing around to his family, Karama knew that he must act
soon. The blood was truly becoming weak, and still Njana had not been
betrothed.
          The prince sat away from the rest of the pride, nearly at the
edge of the plateau, staring outward and to the morning sun. He was truly
beautiful, royalty in every aspect. From his full mane to his charming,
outgoing attitude, he was a prize to have as a son. Karama loved him
dearly.
          	Njana's surrogate mother throughout cubhood, Almasi, was also
Karama's sister. She had treated Njana like she would have treated her own
cubs: with love, care, and no little pampering.
            	Pride Munja consisted of only eight lions. There was the aged
king, his son, his three sisters, Mokola, Almasi, and Renala. There were
also two sterile, nomadic females, Benila and Juril, who had come from the
surrounding lands in search of peace from the harsh life alone. The final
member of the pride was also the youngest: Hemali, the female cub born to
Renala by a nomad named Yeta.
            	Yeta had later made an attempt on Karama's life, which was
barely beaten back with tooth and claw. Renala had realized how she had
been used, but her love to Yeta had been true. She never fully recovered
from the loss, nor did she completely forgive Karama for her mate's death.
            	The facts of the situation all led to one conclusion: the
pride was dying from lack of new blood.
            	His mind made up, Karama stood. Today would be the day he
would travel to Simba's lands and ask Johari to come back with him to the
Sun Lands once again. He would also speak to Simba about a possible mate
for Njana. If there were none to be found in the Pride Lands, he would
later travel to speak to Heran, king of the other adjacent Pride Kaymje.
          The relationship Karama held with Heran had been bordering upon
hostility during the Shadowed Times when fear of hyena attacks ran high.
The thought of asking Heran for a possible mate to Njana was not something
Karama enjoyed.
            	There were only so many days he felt his old bones had left,
and he was going to use every one of them to the fullest.
            	"Sisters," said Karama. "Watch the lands today. I need to have
a few words with Simba."  	Njana's ears perked noticeably at those words,
and he turned from the sunrise to his father. "Can I come, dad?" he asked
hopefully.
            	"Hmm," replied Karama teasingly. "I'm not sure." He turned his
head to face Almasi and the four other lionesses. "What do you all think?
Should this rag of a prince be allowed off the lands? Can we trust him?" he
joked.
            	The five lionesses turned their heads to face one another, and
they leaned to huddle together. Whispering could be heard from inside the
group, and Hemali struggled over her mother's hind legs, squeaking loudly.
She tried to hear what was said.
            	Almasi stood from the group, grinning broadly. "We think that
it's about time you let Njana get out and see a kingdom besides this one.
He is nearly an adult now."
            	Karama licked at his muzzle in mock thought as Njana waited
impatiently, tail flicking behind him. "I don't see why not then."
            	"Great," grinned Njana. "I'll lead."
            	The lion prince bound past his aunts and cousin and darted in
a sprint down the gently sloping back of the plateau. Karama, watching this
with a tired look, turned to face his sisters knowingly. With a gentle nod,
he departed, his bones putting up a fight with each and every step.

          Chapter9: Wanderings.

          	Umbwa ran through the grasses at a full sprint, Chukizo clinging
to her shoulder fur for dear live. Everything was working perfectly. There
was one more part to her plan, however, that needed to be fulfilled. It was
one of the promises she had made to Shenzi. It was sure to guarantee that
the hyenas had time to set up and take control of the patch of land
surrounding Rafiki's tree. Pride Rock loomed to the west, majestic in scope
compared to its surroundings.
            	A crashing in the brush ahead alerted Umbwa of something
larger than she cared to deal with approaching. She darted to the side and
rolled to the ground, Chukizo yelping in surprise. The two animals watched
as a lion passed by at a full sprint. It was Simba, and he was heading
straight for Rafiki's tree.
            	Yes, everything was going according to plan. Umbwa pulled
herself up off the ground and continued her run to Pride Rock, stones in
hand.

            	Jambazi pushed onward through the morning, darting looks over
his shoulder occasionally. He was still flustered from what he had seen
earlier that morning, and his worry carried him at speeds he could normally
not manage.
            	The Sun Lands greeted him with the chirping of birds and a
fresh, dry smell. The large plateau, equivalent to Pride Rock for the
resident lions here, became clear in the distance. He pushed his body in a
race to reach it before midday. This was for Keli and Mtoko, of course, and
his cubs deserved a place to call their own.

            	Rafiki landed as gracefully as possible, rolling to ease the
pain of the jump. His maneuver did not help much, and he could feel the
strain on his muscles and bones as they took the blunt of his hit with the
ground.
            	All around him the flames burned high. He snatched his staff
and the two stones from where he had tossed them, and took a fast survey of
the situation.
            	The trunk of the tree was barely scarred by the fire. It was
as ancient as the lands themselves, and mere burns would not put it down.
          The grasses that surrounded Rafiki were not so lucky. The heat
was intense, and there was only one thing the mandrill could do: run.
            	His padded feet carried him swiftly through the burning
grasses. He swatted at the patches of fur that caught fire as he ducked and
dodged his way through the pyrotechnics.
            	His chest was closing up. He could feel himself losing
consciousness as the blue morning sky first came into view. Running on
reserved energy, he plowed into untainted lands and away from the fire. He
had suffered many burns and twice as many bruises, but he had made it.
            	The staff was drug at his side, and the stones were held
between blackened fingers; they had also survived.
            	With strength he never knew he had, he pulled himself to the
nearest stream and collapsed at the water's edge, exhausted.

            	Simba passed around the burning lands as quickly as possible,
eyes falling on each piece of terrain in his search for Rafiki. His sense
of smell was overloaded by the smoke that clogged both his nose and lungs.
There would be no way to find the mandrill by use of olfactory powers. He
would have to found by sight, which was also being obscured by the thin
smoke.
            	The light of the sun struggled to work its way through the
haze, but it was failing.  The hyenas were still on the move. Simba could
hear them from behind. He had to find Rafiki before he was spotted.
            	"Rafiki!" he screamed desperately. "Rafiki!"
            	Nothing.
            	"Come on, you old baboon, don't do this."
            	His search took him past the tree as the hyenas came over a
rise. His mind was made for him, as there was little choice but to flee.
Oh, he would return, yes, but not without help.
            	Pride Munja, who also considered Rafiki to be their shaman,
would be solicited as allies, as would some of the local animals. The
hyenas would not keep this land for long.
            	Rafiki was a poor animal to target, considering the love that
was felt for him by the animals of all the nearby lands. If Rafiki was
dead, he had not died in vain. His memory would rally the animals to a
point of frenzy, and Simba would be damned if he would not be at the lead
of the battle.
            	He turned away from the tree and toward the Sun Lands. His
paws carried him swiftly forward, but it was the loss he was feeling in his
heart that pushed him beyond the limits. He did not know how that fire had
been started, but whether the hyenas had anything to do with it would not
sway his decisions. He had vengeance, and a family, to guide him now. And
he was not going to run this time; he would never run again.
            	Words from a past struggle found there way to the front of his
mind as he crossed into the Sun Lands:
            	If you ever come back, we'll kill you.
            	They never seemed to mean as much.

          Chapter10: Two Kingdoms.

            	It was working! It was actually working! That monkey really
could create fire. That, or she had gotten insanely lucky. Whatever the
case might be, the hyenas now occupied the lands immediately surrounding
Rafiki's old home. There were three streams nearby, so water would not be a
problem, and the hunting flats were a mere jog away!
            Shenzi sat at the head of the gathered group like a queen,
Banzai at her side and Ed at her flank. There was chaos in the ranks, but
that was expected.
            	The land itself was torched to a crisp, and the smoke was only
now starting to dissipate. It would only take a single rain to replenish
the vegetation. The savannah was like that, always growing.
            	Shenzi never let the thought that four dozen hyenas could
never survive off such a thin patch of land cross her mind, she was too
busy sucking up the attention she was getting. Already the others were
calling her Queen Shenzi, and she was loving it.
            	"Hey, Banzai! You and Ed go catch me something to eat,
alright?" said Shenzi.
            	"Ehhh! No way 'm going to get you something to eat. Catch it
yourself, Queen Shenzi," Banzai groaned, his voice dripping with sarcasm.
            	Ed had already stood up to go, but he quickly reseated himself
after hearing Banzai's words. He rolled his shoulders, confused, and
pointed out to the forty-odd hyenas. "Weeeeeeeeeyo!"
            	Shenzi snorted loudly and cuffed Banzai upside the head. "You
gotta learn some respect for The Queen incarnate," she said, comparing
herself to the hyena's goddess.
            	"The Queen incarnate!" snarled Banzai. "Man, you're starting
to scare me."
            	Ed looked between his two litter mates silently, unsure on
which to side with.
            	"Hey! Look at that," Shenzi said, motioning out to the other
hyenas, "and tell me this isn't something only Fisi could manage." She did
have a point. Organizing that many hyenas in one evening was a test.
            	"Yeah, whatever you say. 'm still not going to call you Queen
Shenzi."

            	The morning passed slowly for the lions at Pride Rock. Hopes
were high that word from Zazu would come before the afternoon.
             	Waka sat away from the rest of the youth and sullenly stared
at her forepaws. The other cubs, including Duama, sat near their parents
and play-pounced one another. Duama was only allowed to watch, but he had
as much fun as the others. He chirped and giggled each time someone was
pinned.
            	Mtoko was the true champion of the game. He was no larger than
the other youth, but his fighting skills were enhanced due to the lessons
he received from Simba on a regular basis. The others did not mind losing,
however. They needed something to distract themselves from their parent's
worried stares and mutterings.
            	"Oh, come on!" called Waka from her place near the cave's
wall. "Just because he's male doesn't mean you should let him win, Keli.
Get your tail off the ground and watch."
          	She stood and stepped a meter in front of the panting Mtoko.
Keli begrudgingly moved to the side.
            	"I'd like to see you do any better," muttered Keli as she sat
down next to Makalala, who in turn offered her a comforting lick to the
shoulder.
            	"Then just watch, like I told you," came the response from the
boasting adolescent.
            	"I'll try to be gentle," said Mtoko. He grinned.
            	"Please, give your ego a break for a while and fight me
fairly, ok, Mtoko?" She was definitely having one of her moods that
morning.
          	"My ego? I'm not the one who's always talking about 'heritage'
and 'birthright.' Just because my blood doesn't run blue. . ."
          	"Of course you don't talk about things like that. Your dad's a
rogue." Waka went below the belt.
          	Those that watched winced in worry. This subject was a touchy
one. Makalala had already ducked behind Keli, and Keli tried to do the same
to Makalala, creating a strange pattern of hide and rehide. Only Waka held
any spite for her playmate's unwholesome genes.
            	Mtoko, without even a reply, lunged himself at the
wise-cracking female and had her pinned beneath his paws before she could
even react with more than a small yipe.
            	He stared down at her and, annoying as he could possibly be,
licked her cheek roughly.  "You lose."
            	Waka, recovering from her lapse of shock, pulled her self out
from beneath him roughly and growled, "You just got lucky again." Her eyes
pierced the air between her and Mtoko like a blade, and she promptly turned
tail and started to step out of the cave. She was snagged by Johari and
given a strong cuff over the head.
            	"You need to learn manners, Missy," Johari said.
            	The rest of the youth giggled and rubbed shoulders with Mtoko
as he returned from the match, triumphant.
            	Timon, who remained upon Pumbaa's stomach, opened his eyes and
stretched. He glanced around the cave, smiling widely. With a stroke of
empathic genius, he noticed something was not normal. The muzzles of the
adults were twisted in small frowns of worry, and they milled together
almost in a huddle. Simba was not anywhere to be found.
            	Bounding off of Pumbaa, Timon spoke, "Morning! Why the long
looks?"  	Each lioness turned in his direction, their eyes rimmed with
sadness, and he was forced to raise his hands up defensively.
            	"Ok, ok, sorry I asked, yeesh. Yer' no fun."
            	He turned to nudge Pumbaa awake. The large warthog grunted in
disapproval as he was prodded repeatedly.
             	"Get up before you sleep through tomorrow," said Timon.
             	Pumbaa rolled to his side.
             	"I said 'get up'!"
             	"Wha. . ." muttered Pumbaa tiredly. "Oh, hey Timon." He
turned to his other side and faced away from the meerkat, returning to
sleep.
             	Timon waved his hands in the air wildly, annoyed. "Fine, I'll
just get breakfast myself. You need what they call 'internalization', my
friend."   	The meerkat scuttled out of the cave and away from view,
muttering beneath his breath. As the sound of his movements faded, a new
sound could be heard: the flapping of wings.
             	"Zazu!" said Sarabi excitedly. She and the other lionesses
brought themselves to their paws and stepped out onto the promitory as Zazu
made his landing. The bird was covered in a layer of black soot, but
otherwise seemed fine.
            	With a bow behind him, the majordomo spoke. "Rafiki's tree
caught fire earlier this morning, as did the lands surrounding it. The. . .
a herd of hyenas were moving themselves to the tree the last time I saw
them. Simba went to find Rafiki." He took a short break to catch his breath
and to let his words sink in before he continued. "He wants you to know he
loves you all."  	The last part of his monologue came out in a single
breath before he slouched down to the rock. Sarabi burst into tears, as did
Nala. The young ones and the other lionesses, worried as they were, moved
to the mourner's sides to offer comfort. The only sound to be heard was
that of sobbing and hushed words of hope.
            	Nobody heard the sound of a meerkat's footsteps against hard
stone, and nobody noticed the thin layer of smoke emerging into the cave
until Timon, screaming shrilly, ran out onto the promitory:
            	"Fire!"

            	Umbwa and Chukizo began their travel back to Rafiki's tree
silently, a wide smirk upon the mandrill's lips. They had successfully set
fire to the symbol of all power in the Pride Lands. The wounds would be
deep.

          Chapter11: Hard Lessons.

          	Karama and Njana stepped, side by side, down the length of their
home. Njana held his head abnormally high as he moved, and Karama could not
help but smile fondly as he looked to his own son.
          	"So, dad," said Njana, walking backward so that he could face
Karama as he spoke, "is this the day?"	"What day would that be, son?" came
the reply. Karama was already winded from the walk, and they were barely
started.
          	"Eh, you know." Njana nudged his father with his nose. "We're
looking for a queen, right?"
          	Karama batted at his son's head with a wiry paw. "Your mind is
set on one horizon!" he laughed. "Yes, we're trying to find you a queen.
I'm also asking your mother to come live with us today, her and your
sisters."
          	Njana's eyes lit up at hearing such. "You mean it? That's great.
It's been so long since I've seen them."
          	"It's important that you behave yourself when we get there.
Simba may be young, but he's a lot stronger than he seems. You know his
story."
          	Njana bobbed his head. He indeed knew the story. Everyone knew
the story. "I'll watch myself, father. I don't want this to fail any more
than you do."
          	"I'm glad to hear that," Karama said, eyes held in front of
him,"because you know as well as I do that I don't have much time left in
this cycle."
          	"Hey, dad, don't say that." Njana's mood changed from one of
carefree joy to worry in a matter of moments. He brushed his tail up
against his father's. "You're going to live to see my cubs, you hear that?"
          	"If I had the choice, yes, I would live to see your cubs. But
this life doesn't work that way, son. You are going to have to deal with
that fact sooner or later."
          	"I know," came the sullen reply. "But that doesn't mean I have
to enjoy the thought."
          	Karama chuckled weakly. "You think I enjoy the thought any more
than you do? Just remember that I'll be here, in spirit if not in flesh, as
long as you keep my name at heart."
          	Njana strove to alter the conversation's topic. "What are the
Pride Lands like?"
          	"Beautiful, grand--every word you can think of. Mufasa had been
a strong king, and Simba is one now. You would do well to learn from
Simba."
          	"I'll have a talk with him when we get there."
          	Jambazi listened to the conversation with avid interest from his
place among the shadows of an acacia tree, downwind from the pair. The
thought of attacking them had crossed his mind, but there were two of them,
and he, no matter how large, was not ready to take that much of a risk. He
would have to wait until Karama was alone.

          	Rafiki pulled himself up from the stream's bed with a groan of
acute pain. His hands clasped tightly to the stones as he viewed the area
around him through blurred sight. He had not felt pain like this in
seasons.
          	A sound from his left alerted him to the presence of another
animal. His nose twitched wildly as he remembered his scent of smell, and
he was forced a step backward by the stench that hit him: hyena, many of
them.
          	Without thinking twice, he was lurching across the stream and
away from the scent. On the other side of the stream he found a small tree,
where he took the chance to rest and reevaluate his situation. The leaves
of his home had been completely obliterated by the flames, as had the land
surrounding it. At the massive tree's base he could make out the forms of
many, many milling animals.
          	From across the stream came the whooping call of a hyena. Rafiki
froze in place as a pair of the scavengers pressed their snouts up to the
stream's edge and began to drank the crystalline water.
          	"Hey," said one of the hyenas. "You really think that
Umbwa-monkey-thing was the cause of that fire? I mean, she can't do that,
can she?"
          	The other, whose eyes were crossed strangely, whooped loudly and
shook his head. "Peg nag," he said.
          	"That's exactly what I'm thinking. She got lucky, that's all."
          	The pair turned their backs to the water, having not noticed
Rafiki, and began to amble back to the rest of their kind.
          	Umbwa?
          	The word pressed itself to the front of Rafiki's mind like a
hunger that could not be beaten down. Memories that he had long forgotten
rushed back to his weary brain, and he sighed. They could not have been
speaking about the Umbwa he knew. Or could they?

          	By the time the lionesses and their cubs reacted to Timon's
shrill call, the main cave of Pride Rock was already filled with a smoky
mist.
          	"Everyone back to the valley," commanded Nala while she snatched
Duama into her jaws. The valley she spoke of lay behind Pride Rock, well
hidden from the obvious.
          	Timon rushed his way to Pumbaa and started head butting the
warthog awake. Pumbaa, annoyed, stood to his hooves and glanced around
tiredly as the rest of the cave's occupants scrambled from the cave. His
eyes bulged widely as he realized what was happening, and he bent low to
give Timon access to the ride he would need. Timon hopped up between
Pumbaa's ears and clasped to them roughly. The pig barreled out from the
cave's mouth and past the flames that were engulfing the grasses directly
behind Pride Rock.
          	The pride had already collected on a hillside, and they were
each busy staring to their home as the fire took what it could. Pride Rock
could never be destroyed by a blaze, but the vegetation that surrounded it
was as able to burn as any tree, or any memory.
          	"How could that start?" asked Keli excitedly.
          	"Quiet, dear," urged Jaha. "It was most likely lightening. You
know the legends."
          	"About the flames?" pressed Waka from where she stood listening
to the conversation. "You don't really believe all of that, do you?"
          	"I believe what I see, and flames are known to be signs of the
circle: death and rebirth. Think what you will, Waka."	Mtoko added to the
conversation with his optimism: "I think it's an omen. Simba's already
beaten back those hyenas; he's probably on his way home now."	
          	"Yeah," agreed Keli with a smile. "Those hyenas didn't have a
chance. Simba probly' roared a few times, and they tucked tail."
          	"Come, come," said Adhama softly. "Just wait until Simba does
return before you start praising him. I'm sure he'll be fine."
          	"What if the fire's a bad sign?" whispered Makalala to the
gathered. "What if?"
          	"Puh," snorted Waka. She trotted just out of hearing range and
lay forward to her stomach.
          	Johari nudged her worried daughter's shoulder with her own and
replied: "Don't dwell on it. Some spirit probably become restless because
of all the excitement, with Duama and all, and the fire started that way."
          	"Or maybe the Two wish for us to know something about that
place. Maybe it is an omen," said Utaji from her place near the wall.
          	"Those are as good explanations as any," smiled Sarabi
hopefully. Nala her and Sarafina were circled together in their own
conversation, Duama sitting in their midst.
          	"Do you think we should go after him?" questioned Nala quietly,
as to keep her intentions secret from only Sarabi and Sarafina.
          	"No," uttered Sarafina, "it is important he manages this on his
own. I wouldn't be surprised if he was back before midday." It was passing
into mid-morning quickly.
          	"Mufasa's first time dealing with the hyenas went something like
this. He came back unharmed, and his son can do the same," added Sarabi
hopefully.
          	Nala watched as the patches of flames that had smoked the Pride
out of their home began to disperse. "I can't see what else can go wrong
today."	Both Sarabi and Sarafina smiled at the same time and looked over at
one another.  Sarafina broke the silence with a caution. "Never say that,
child. It always seems to get worse when you say something like that."

          Chapter 12: Busa Simba Iyo.

          	Simba ran through half of the morning, stopping only a few times
to gain his bearings and to check for scents. He was well on his way to
reaching Karama's pride's home, and he had yet to see any sign of life
here. The Sun Lands were lovely, to a point, but there was an underlying
feeling of decay that seemed to bound out at him. He could not quite place
his paw upon it, but it was there: in the smells, in the sights, and in the
sounds.
          	He reached a small waterhole and bent to take a drink. His eyes
met his own reflection, and what he saw was nothing surprising: a lion,
slowly aging; his father even. All of these things he had searched for many
times in his past, and now he seemed to have lost them again.
          	Why now? Why Rafiki?
          	His whiskers twitched as a new scent came to him: lion. He
raised his head up from the water and began actively searching for the
source of the smell. His eyes met with the form a large lion in the
distance, approaching steadily. It could only be Karama. Maybe Simba was
just lucky that the other king should be out patrolling so early, but he
was not about to question fate. Pride Munja's help was needed.
          	Roaring loudly, Simba announced his peaceful presence in the Sun
Lands. The lion in the distance promptly ducked beneath the waving grasses.
Simba stepped away from the water, slightly confused, and roared once
again. He received no reply.
          	He began in the direction of the figure and was once again
entranced by the scent of the lion: it was like Karama's, but not
completely. The massive lion that was now hiding from Simba was someone he
had never met. "Hello?" called Simba. "Who's there?"
          	Still nothing. The wind picked up then, causing the stalks of
grass to bend a bit, and the form of the strange-smelling lion came into
view for a brief moment, moving carefully away from Simba.
          	"Stop!" called Simba once again. He ran after the scrambling
form as it burst from the grasses in full sprint. Simba thought about
calling out once again, but instead put his strength into his chase. The
lion in front of him was massive, covered in a dark brown pelt of fur that
faded to black near his appendages and mane. Simba was gaining ground
slowly, and the other lion seemed to have noticed. The unknown animal
turned his body in a matter of seconds and stood his ground, waiting for
Simba with a growl in his throat.
          	Simba slowed to a stop a short distance away from the other
male. "Hello," he said with a short bow. "I am called Simba. I'm friend to
Karama, the king here."
          	The large male stared back at Simba in silence, but as Simba
voiced his own name, the other lion's eyes had lit up for a moment.
          	Simba searched for the polite way to proceed. "Have you spoken
to Karama? You are on his lands, you realize."
          	"Yes, I realize that."
          	Simba's tail twitched as he heard the other lion's voice for the
first time. It was a deep, throaty sound, intimidating in its own right.
"And your name is. . .?"
          	"Jambazi."

          	"Ey, the monkey's back, Shenzi!" yelled Banzai from his perch
next to a large boulder on the top of a slight slope. "And she brought the
little thingy with her, tha' meer-whatever."
          	Umbwa's mood was unusually good, and she let the hyena's
near-insults slide by as she trudged up the hillside and over. The view
that greeted her caused her to grin: the hyenas had completed their task.
As far as one's eyes could see they were milling about, the land unoccupied
by even insects now. The plan had worked like a dream. Rafiki's burnt home
stood as a silent testament to their success	
          	"Shenzi!" spoke Umbwa as she stepped pass a group of dumbfounded
hyenas who were busy looking upon she and Chukizo with a type of reverence.
          	Shenzi was lounging in the shade of a small tree that had
managed to survive the blaze, and she was accompanied by a half-dozen male
hyenas. They were fawning over their new queen quite happily, and Shenzi
hardly seemed to mind. "Hey, hey, monkey. You got the job done, I'll give
you that. But we did our part too. You said that we were supposed to move
in and occupy these lands before midmorning, and here we are."
          	Umbwa put frivolities aside for now. "Have you found the body?"
          	"Body, what body?" shot Banzai from the hill.
          	"The body! Rafiki's body," said Umbwa. "Why else do you think I
would have you do this?"
          	Shenzi looked to each of the surrounding hyenas, and each gave
her a look of confusion. "Noone's told me anything about a body." She waved
a paw in the direction of the large tree. "It's probably up there."
          	Umbwa's eyes filled with rage as she replied: "'Probably' isn't
good enough. I need to know."
          	Shenzi grinned as the males surrounding her snarled in Umbwa's
direction, threatening to stand if any harm should come to their new
leader. "Just settle down. You can climb, can't you?
          	Umbwa had been so anxious she had forgotten her own abilities.
She glared to the tree and, without responding to Shenzi, moved in its
direction. Chukizo was still perched atop her shoulder.
          	The base of the tree was more charred than the rest, but it was
not horribly difficult for her to get a foothold. "Go and search the taller
branches; I'll look along the lower ones," she commanded. Chukizo bound
from her shoulder and was skittering upward in rapid ascension. Umbwa
followed, though much more slowly, and made her way to the lower branches,
all of which lacked leaves.
          	A good portion of the morning passed as she and Chukizo searched
the tree in vain. The body was not to be found. Rafiki was. . . still
alive.
          	Umbwa nearly leapt upon Shenzi as she made her return, the
hyenas still holding themselves in the same position as they were earlier.
They were definitely not the most active of animals during the daytime. 	
          	"There's no body! Are you positive you found nothing around the
tree's base?" snarled Umbwa, barely controlling her anger.
          	"Yeah, we're positive. Maybe he got out of the tree, but there's
no way he survived," muttered Shenzi. "A fall like that, along with the
burns he had to have taken, would kill anything."	"Not  Rafiki. You don't
know him like I do."
          	"Hey, we did our part of the deal; you stop complaining."
          	Umbwa's anger grew to its pitch, but it was controlled by the
last string of will she held inside her. Attacking Shenzi now would be
suicidal, and there was no point in getting into a scuffle. She had to make
sure Rafiki was dead, one way or another.

          	"You're Jambazi?" asked Simba, amazed. His eyes scanned the
large male once again, this time more closely. The description fit the one
that had been given by the lionesses in their various gossips.
          	"Yes, my name is Jambazi," came the hard reply. "And, no, I have
not spoken to Karama. Do you know where I may find him?"
          	"I'm looking for him myself." Simba turned back to the direction
he had come from. "There are problems back in my family's land. Your cubs
are there."
          	"My cubs?" urged Jambazi, his posture becoming more loose. "What
are their names?"
          	"You. . .oh, yes: Keli and Mtoko." Simba had forgotten that the
cubs had never known their father. This truly was an interesting
development.
          	"Keli and Mtoko," repeated Jambazi softly. "Are they healthy?
How are Adhama and Jaha?"
          	"The cubs are in excellent shape, don't worry. Jaha and Adhama
have spoken about you often."	"They have?" asked Jambazi, a smile creeping
up across his muzzle like a ray of sun bursting through clouds. Simba was
glad to see that smile; this male looked dangerous. "And what have they
said?"
          	Simba was taken aback by the lack of subtlety Jambazi was
showing, but was inclined to reply honestly. "They speak of you like you
were the only thing that got them through the Shadowed Times. I know they
want to see you, and so do your cubs. They'll be adults soon; Mtoko has
been learning to fight. I wasexpecting to have to send him away before the
next wet season. You know how those things work." With the wet season came
the lionesses' heats, and Simba had a responsibility hold. "Do you," Simba
took a sharp breath. "Do you have a kingdom?"	"No," was the only word
given.
          	"About the problems in the Pride Lands. The hyenas--"
          	"I know about the hyenas. I saw them. I passed through your
lands on my way here."	"Your cubs may need you sooner than I'd like to
admit. The hyenas have, from what I've seen, managed to kill
Rafiki."	Jambazi did not respond, but from his change of posture, it was
clear that he was deep in thought.
          	"Jambazi," said Simba. "Why don't you help us? We're going to
need every animal we can get to beat them back. "	"You do realize that
there are many  hyenas involved, don't you?"	"Of course. I also realize
that there are many animals without a home due to their movements, and if
Rafiki is dead, there will be many animals willing to avenge him."
          	"I never knew him. I was told about him, but we never met."	"If
you won't do it for Rafiki, and if you won't do it for me, at least think
about your cubs. They may be out of a home if the hyenas decide to keep
moving. They might die." Simba remained looking back in the direction of
the Pride Lands as he spoke, rightfully worried.
          	"My cubs will have a place to call their own before the day is
over, Simba, whether or not I help you," said Jambazi, his tone controlled
and cool. "They will call these lands their own."
          	"These?" questioned Simba, turning back to face Jambazi. "I
doubt Karama will let you move your family here. There are traditions."
          	"I'm not going to ask him for permission. Have you really had it
so easy that you don't know what's going to happen?"
          	Simba took the bash to his pride without letting his anger show,
holding the pain internally for the time being. His own tone turned to one
of coldness. "You don't mean to challenge him?"
          	"Like you said, I should be doing this for my cubs, and I am
doing this for my cubs. It's the way of the circle, you know that. The old
is replaced by the new, and it's about time I take what's rightfully mine."
Jambazi held his words for a dramatic moment. "I'll assume you won't try to
stop me."
          	Simba's mind raced as he tried to think of a reason to keep
Jambazi from challenging his friend. Should that battle happen, the victor
would certainly be Jambazi. Karama was nearing death as quickly as a
boulder rolls down a steep slope, and there would be no way he could fight
and win. Then Simba found what he needed.	"Karama's cubs, Waka and
Makalala, are friends, good friends, with your own cubs. They have lived
with each other at Pride Rock most of their lives. If you would kill their
father, you would threaten the only friends your cubs have ever known. You
said you are doing this for them; I doubt they would want this. Mtoko is
very mature, and Keli has a heart of gold. Neither would wish harm done to
Karama." Simba was taking a chance by speaking in such a way, but he needed
Karama alive if he was going to drive the hyenas off.
          	Jambazi's hackles raised defensively and he snorted. "You don't
really think I will believe something as absurd as that. Why would Karama's
cubs be living with your pride?"
          	"Because their mother loves her sisters, and she wasn't ready to
leave the Pride Lands when she was asked. Karama's a good lion; he wouldn't
force a mate into something that she did not want."
          	"And I'm supposed to believe you, why?"
          	"Honor."	"Honor?" Jambazi almost laughed. "That's an interesting
word to use in this situation."
          	"It fits," replied Simba plainly.
          	Jambazi took a long moment to plan, sitting to his haunches.
Simba remained near him, nervous. Standing, Jambazi spoke: "I will help you
retake that plot of land in exchange for rights to see my cubs, and free
passage through the Pride Lands whenever I deem necessary." The demands
were not harsh, but histrue plans were kept hidden skillfully.
          	Simba smiled and bowed once again. "Permission is granted, and
you can see your cubs tonight, if you wish."
          	Jambazi nodded solemnly and stood. Both of the lions' ears
swiveled westward as the sound of idle conversation reached them. Simba
raised his head to the air and took a long sniff, recognizing the scent in
the prevailing wind to be that of Karama. Without pomp, the new
acquaintances walked in the direction of the scent's source.

          	Shenzi remained at her place with her harem of males until the
afternoon came and went. She had sent Chukizo, who had been left behind
unwillingly when Umbwa had gone, to spy on the resident lions of Pride
Rock. The thought of complete domination lingered on Shenzi's mind, no
matter how hard she attempted to push it back. Queen of a decent sized hunk
of land, or queen of a massive expanse dominated by a huge throne in the
form of Pride Rock--not really a tough decision for one to make.
          	Chukizo stumbled down the hillside and rushed to Shenzi's side.
He gave his account of the sights he saw: "There is no fully adult male
there. The one that Umbwa called Simba is gone, and only the females and
the kits, er cubs are there." He smiled tiredly and slouched to rest,
hopeful that his news would arise at least a compliment from the hyena.
          	"Oh, really?" asked Shenzi, rhetorical. A wide smile came and
went as she pondered the possibilities, and her booming voice carried over
the desolate landscape as her decision was made. "Everyone gather!" Her
males rushed in separate directions to bring all of the hyenas back
together around Shenzi, but Banzai remained at her side.
          	"Ugh, sis," he said. "What are you doing?"
          	"I'm building up on tha' territory, Banzai. Don't worry about
it. I have a flawless plan."	
          	"You remember the last time we had a flawless plan?"	"Hey, this
is different, Banzai. Don't worry 'bout nothing, Queen Shenzi can handle
it."
          	By the time each of the hyenas was brought back into order, the
afternoon was well gone. Shenzi, not outwardly annoyed by their lack of
speed, stood in front of the gathered animals and spoke, her voice strong.
          	"We, Fisi's chosen, have lived under the oppression of the lions
for long enough." She paced back and forth slowly as she spoke, facing the
horde of onlookers: the young, the old, the wounded. "We have found
ourselves a place here, but there is still something more to be won. Pride
Rock can be ours, if we work together. We all know that Fisi is with us;
the fire earlier today proves such. With the strength of the great queen in
our claws, there is not a reason that we should be satisfied with only
this. We will move to Pride Rock as a single force, and we will drive the
tyrants from their land like they did to our ancestors so long ago; we will
reclaim what is rightfully ours!" Shenzi whooped a loud war-call as her
speech came to an end, and all of the hyenas returned the haunting sound
with ones of their own. The noise was truly spectacular, like a cascade of
blood from a wounded buffalo.

          	Rafiki, limping, passed from tree to tree, from bush to bush,
and from cave to cave. He stopped only for a short while at each place,
giving the words that had to be spoken, and then departing. He knew what
needed to be done.

          	"Greetings Simba!" boomed Karama from across the small
waterhole, already making his way around. He was accompanied by Njana, who
had a broad smile. "What brings you to our lands? And who is this?" He
spoke regarding Jambazi with a polite bow. His son did the same awkwardly.
          	"Karama, I'm glad I found you. This is Jambazi, you may have
heard of him."	Jambazi bowed his head in a nod, but was voiceless. Karama
showed no recognition of having met the other male, but his posture became
slightly defensive after taking a long census over Jambazi's muscles.
          	"What manner of business brings you so deeply into the Sun
Lands? We meant to come see you at Pride Rock today."	"To see me? Why?"
          	"Njana," he motioned to the nearly adult lion, "is looking for a
mate, and I wish to speak to Johari."
          	Simba let himself smile, betraying the way he was feeling on the
inside: worried. "Ahh, yes, well, I'll be glad to help you with both of
those things another time, but. . ."
          	"But?" asked Karama. Jambazi went unnoticed as he gazed up and
down both Karama's and Njana's figures.
          	"But the hyenas have moved themselves into the Pride Lands.
Rafiki is. . .at least I think he is. . .dead. I haven't seen a body, but
his tree burnt this morning, and that's when the hyenas moved themselves to
surround it."
          	Karama exhaled in a cough of unbelief. "Rafiki?! What can we do
to help, Simba? How many are there?"	Simba sighed,"At least three dozen,
possibly four. I couldn't be sure. All I am sure of is that we need to
hurry. My family is alone at Pride Rock, along with your cubs."
          	Jambazi let his thoughts come free. "We will need as many as we
can manage, and we will need them soon. If the hyenas find that your Pride
is left alone, Simba, then they will surely attack."
          	Simba had considered that possibility with fear in his heart,
and hearing it put into words only made it worse.
          	Njana presses his ears forward and spoke softly, trying to
remain respectable. "Dad, why don't you go with Simba and Jambazi to the
Pride Lands. I'll run and get the lionesses."
          	Simba looked to Karama, and Karama to Simba. Simba nodded, and
Karama gave the word: "Hurry son. Your aunts know the way, but if you get
lost, just follow the tracks we made today away from where the dawn comes.
Pride Rock will be visible after a time; you can't miss it. Tell them that
their king needs them."	Njana nodded, obviously proud to have such an
important task, and, bowing profusely, bolted in a path that would take him
back to his home.
          	"What now?" asked Karama.
          	"We fight back," said Simba. "We fight back."
          	Njana was ecstatic! Not only did his father give him the
responsibility of leaving the Sun Lands for the first time, but now he was
to help in a battle against hyenas. It was more than he could have ever
hoped for. This day would go down in legend.

          Chapter 13: Siki and Kabaila.

          	At the dawn of time, when only the canvas of creation was
visible, and inky blackness filled one's senses, there were two: Siki and
Kabaila, lord and the lady. They worked as one, this pair, and through
their love they formed the first spirit-child: Majua, the sun.
          	Majua was warm, but he was too small to see Siki and Kabaila's
true forms, so they molded themselves into an image of four legs, golden
fur, and a tail. Majua loved his parents dearly, and he asked to be granted
a different form. Siki and Kabaila gave to him the grand gift of eternal
burning; Majua would always light up the darkness, showing things that were
meant to be seen.
          	The pair's second spirit-child, Mashaha, Moon, was a more
ambitious youth. She too loved her parents, but wished to look slightly
different, not quite like her brother, but not like her parents either.
Her parents gave her the gift of an eternal luminescence, and yet she grew
jealous of her brother, whose light she required if she was to glow. She
began to work with dark powers summoned from the depths of the universe,
and through her the first feelings of hopelessness were birthed.
          	When their third child was born, Kalam, Eaco, Siki and Kabaila
grew weary. Kalam loved the four-legged forms of his parents, but they had
grown too tired to give him a gift as strong as Mashaha's or Majua's.
Instead, they painted his surface with colorful plants and beasts, many
resembling the two gods themselves. And Kalam was happy. Spotted cats
hunted with small cats, and black cats hunted alongside striped cats. No
animal was created that looked exactly like Siki or Kabaila, as the form
was meant to be a special one. All was well upon Eaco, and the life that
prospered there was strong and pure, a combination of both spirit and
flesh.
          	Mashaha grew jealous of her new brother's gifts in the same way
she had been with Majua's; she quickly angered. In her rage she shivered,
creating the stars and, setting her spawn on her own brother. Her
spirit-children ran rampant across the earth, and Kalam cried out in his
suffering. With no choice left, Siki and  Kabaila pulled a piece from Majua
and molded the first lions, who were to be the maintainers of balance among
the children of Eaco.
          	The new animal, the lion, succeeded beyond expectation, and
everything fell into place once again.

          Chapter14:  Ninga Dinwa.

          	Night began to fall across the Pride Lands, and still Simba had
not returned. Loud thunder-clouds grew overhead, and the pride did what it
could to stave off the fear they were feeling for their king. No word had
come yet, and Zazu had been giving regular updates on the situation with
the hyenas. It seemed as if they were not planning on moving, at least not
today.
          	Nala lay with Duama, hushing the cub as he cried from the sounds
of the coming storm. The pride had not yet moved back to their cave,
preferring to wait for the rain to rush the ashes of the burnt grasses away
like a bad argument. Ears drooped low, as did hopes.
          	Timon had done his best throughout the day to maintain a
semblance of happiness among the lions, but he had ultimately failed.
Pumbaa was silently brooding	in his own thoughts. Zazu had not yet returned
from his last departure, and Mtoko was waiting, responsible, on top of a
small rise.
          	"Mother," he said at a normal level of volume.
          	No one noticed.
          	"Mother!" he yelled loudly, tail waving as a flag behind him.
"What is that?" He pointed northward from Pride Rock, and Adhama pulled
herself tiredly up to Mtoko's lookout point. Her eyes widened like the
milky moon as she stumbled back from the hill.
          	"The hyenas!" she roared to her relatives. Each of the animals
scrambled off their haunches or stomachs and moved themselves up to the
lookout point. Sleepless eyes fell on the moving mass of hyenas, and what
hope still remained. . . was lost.

          	Rafiki stumbled past each of the sites he knew from his past,
smiling fondly upon some, and frowning in contempt at others. Wherever he
passed he picked up a new follower, ready to join in the struggle that was
to come. He needed to speak no words, for the animals knew. 	
          	Beasts of every type were gathering silently behind him, purpose
in their eyes, their steps, their flight. On hooves, on pads, and on claws
they came; they remembered the Shadowed Times as well as any of the lions,
and they remembered what the hyenas had done. This once, they were going to
fight back. They were the nameless mass. Step by step they approached Pride
Rock together. Predator and prey, hunter and hunted, parasite and host--all
came, and all were brethren, if only for now. Their cause was as true as
any, and though their names would be forgotten long before Simba's ever
would be, they knew in their hearts that what they were doing was right.

          	Simba, Jambazi, and Karama were well into the Pride Lands by
late afternoon, but Karama's condition was keeping them slower than Simba
or Jambazi would have liked. Karama hid his tiredness as best as possible,
yet it was obvious.
          	The air had grown moist, and storm clouds had begun to loom
overhead, casting strange shadows upon the grasses as the trio proceeded.
The sky in the Pride Lands was shaded in a deep, purple glow that marked
the end of the day. The sun was setting beyond the horizon as, wordlessly
the lions approached Pride Rock, and Simba's hope sunk at the sight he saw:
          	The hyenas had indeed choose to attack Pride Rock, and were in
the process of doing so. They were marching in an unorganized mass straight
toward the Pride's home. There was nothing in between that horde and the
rock except dried grasses. Strangely, the land around the rear base of the
rock had been burnt, and the figures of Simba's family could be seen
standing atop a small hill, also staring in the direction of the herd.
          	Karama shook his head sadly and turned away, Jambazi stared
coldly at the moving mass, and Simba began to step forward across the open
plains.
          	If you ever come back, we'll kill you.
          	The word's replayed in his mind, constant as the setting and
rising of the sun. He could sense movement behind him as Karama and Jambazi
pulled themselves to his flanks and began to follow him in the path taking
them perpendicular to the hyenas.

          	Rafiki did not bothered to turn his head from the image of Pride
Rock as he continued to neared. From his place in the lead, he spotted
their target. The hyenas had not yet noticed him, as they were still a far
ways off, but he could make out their forces fairly clearly. Rafiki finally
decided to turn and look to his own followers, and he was truly amazed by
the sight he found. Animals he had never met filled the terrain alongside
those he knew as well as any. His old eyes welled in warm tears, the scene
was so touching. He raised his staff high above his head and bellowed a
huge war cry, which was followed by loud snorting, squawking, and snarling
from his collected army.
          	Their sounds were echoed by the voices of fifty-odd hyenas
whooping in unison. The battle was on.

          	Umbwa watched the beginning of the battle unfold from her place
beneath the shadows of Pride Rock's promitory. She saw the hyenas' steady
approach, and she cursed them for even considering an attack on Pride Rock.
She had not seen Chukizo for quite some time; she doubted if he even lived
still. Her search for Rafiki had failed horribly. None of the local animals
had seemed to know if he even existed. They had all been lying, of course.
          	Her fears were confirmed as she saw the form of a mandrill step
from behind a tree on the open plains. Behind him came a force of animals
like none that had ever been witnessed before, Umbwa was sure of that.
          Opposite to where the mandrill and his army stood Umbwa could
make out the form of three lions walking in unison on a path that would
bring them in front of the hyenas, and muzzle to face with what she assumed
to be Rafiki.
          	A loud cry rose up from the side of the mixed animal army; it
was quickly joined by a loud whooping from the hyenas. The mandrill pulled
his army in a wide loop that would take them closer to the front of Pride
Rock and Umbwa's position. She crept farther back into the shadows and
remained watching.
          	The hyena army stopped in the distance as the mixed army joined
up with the three approaching lions. The mandrill stepped forward, and his
loud voice could be heard over the loitering warriors waiting for the call
to battle. It was indeed Rafiki.
          	"Simba!" cried Rafiki, rushing to the lion and embracing him in
a hug.
          	Simba could not seem to peel his eyes away from the collected
group of animals Rafiki had behind him. "I thought you were dead," smiled
Simba.
          	"Oh, ho, it takes more than a fire. . .hyenas. . .and a long,
long fall to take away old Rafiki." He leaned into Simba's ear with a soft
smile,"Not much more."
          	The two lions that accompanied Simba were a strange pair. One
was as large as a male lion should be allowed to grow, while the other
looked as frail as a newborn, except aged.
          	Umbwa kept herself hidden from view, long fingers gripping the
two stones tightly.

          	"Mother, take the cubs back," said Nala, nosing Duama to move
down the hillside. Sarafina went into action, gathering Mtoko, Keli, Waka,
and Makalala in an attempt to keep them away from the rise. Mtoko was
refusing to move however, and he kept pointing a paw in the direction of
the three lions who had now appeared from nowhere. "Who's that? I recognize
Simba, but who are the other two?"
          	Makalala resisted Sarafina to gain a look at Mtoko's subject of
interest, and she smiled. "Daddy! Mom, what's dad doing out there?"
          	"I don't know, Maka," said Johari, as confused as her daughter.
          	"Who's that third one?" questioned Mtoko. "The big one."	Adhama
and Jaha both gave each other a long, hard look before they confirmed one
another. "That. . .that's your father, Mtoko."
          	"My father!" Mtoko lunged himself over the rise in a run.
          	Keli's reaction was delayed, and she too repeated her brother's
sentiment. "Jambazi? Dad?"
          	Waka snuck her way around the adults and followed after Mtoko
before they could react with more than belated calls of command. "Get back
here!" roared Johari. "Waka!"
          	Adhama and Jaha moved down the hill, side by side, at a fast
walking pace. Sarabi called after them, "What are you doing? It's not safe
out there." They gave no response, their focus transfixed upon Jambazi.
          	Utaji began to step down the hillside, but she was stopped by
Nala.  "Let them go," she said. There was more to the unfolding events than
either Nala or Utaji could understand. Nala's two aunts needed to speak
with Jambazi, and damn the hyenas to the darklands if they were to stop
them.
          Chapter 15: Madi Ao.

          	Shenzi weighed her options carefully. She could either urge her
followers forward against a force of equal power, or she could tuck tail
and return to the lands they had already taken. Neither of the two choices
were the least bit appealing. If they would fight and lose, well, they
would lose everything. If they would give up and return to the mandrill's
old, Shenzi doubted that the hyenas would have held any ounce of respect
for her. Sure, that speech was as much a lie as anything else she had ever
said, but it had gotten them rallied. Giving up now would stain what
respect she had earned for the rest of her life. The only decision then,
was to battle and pray.
          	"For the Moon!"
          	Speaking those epic words, she lunged herself forward in a charge.

          	Simba, Rafiki, Jambazi, and Karama stood in a row at the head of
their allies. Movement was detected from the hyenas, at the same time a
loud burst of thunder cracked the air. Whether it was the hyenas impending
charge or panic from the lightening would never be known, but the Pride
forces thrust forward at the hyenas.
          	Lightening split the ever-darkening sky as the two forces
collided head to head. Umbwa crept from her place under Pride Rock and
began to move forward to the battle, sure to keep a fair distance between
herself and the conflict.
          	Simba roared with pent up rage as he plowed like a wedge into
the oncoming hyenas. Their smell was outlandishly powerful, but he closed
his mind to all but the flailing claws and teeth of his enemies. The cries
of battle were replaced by whines of pain and grunts of struggle. Blood
quenched the ground's thirst as roar met whoop and rips in flesh spilled
their life force out onto the land.
          	Jambazi fought like a great storm, his head crashing through
entire groups of hyenas, whines replacing growls in its wake. He clawed
down four hyenas before he was driven back by a harsh blow to his muzzle.
          	The conflict was on a grand scale; nothing like this had been
attempted in all known history. Slowly the forces of the Pride Lands were
being beaten back. The hyenas were just too strong power. The smaller
animals employed beneath Rafiki did not have the strength to break the
horde.

          	Mtoko slowed himself on the outskirts of the battle and watched,
in awe, as limbs were rent from bodies and animals were torn under
trampling paws. Waka stepped to his side, her jaw slack. "Where's my
father?" Karama could not be seen alongside those who fought.
          	Adhama and Jaha rushed in the two youth's direction and watched
as Mtoko pushed himself into the fray, Waka yelling after him to stop.
          	Mtoko sidestepped a hyena as it was tossed to the ground by three wild dogs and its stomach torn to pieces. He dodged by many such skirmishes and in the direction of the lion he had been told was his father.
          When he finally reached the massive male's side, he spoke loudly,
over the din of battle. "Father?"
          	Karama lowered his entire body down just as a hyena came lunging
at him, causing the attacker to fly over him. The hyena landed on its back,
and Karama was quick to pull out its throat. He looked up to the adolescent
lion that had approached him. He glanced around quickly, checking for
possible opponents, before daring to speak. "Son. . .is that you?" Blood
dripped from his muzzle unchecked as he stepped to Mtoko's side. The
resemblance between he and his son was uncanny. And the scent, yes, the
scent was partially his own! "You're Mtoko?"	Mtoko nuzzled his newly found
father's shoulder roughly. "Yes, it's me. It's me."
          	Jambazi took the nuzzle slowly at first, unsure. It had been so
long since he had had contact with another of his own species. He blinked
as, over his son's shoulder, he saw a hyena charge in their direction. The
nuzzle was turned into a shove as Jambazi pushed Mtoko out of the charging
hyena's line of attack and took the blunt of the hit.
          	Mtoko stumbled away and only then realized what he had gotten
himself into. The hyenas seemed to grow in number as he looked around; none
of them seemed to have noticed him yet, but he was positive that would
change if he hung around for too long. His father wrestled with the hyena
that had attacked him, and tossed the animal to the side, limp and dead,
its neck broken.
          	"Get away from here!" said Jambazi as he slammed himself up
against another hyena.
          	Mtoko, not knowing what else to do, began to walk backward and
away from the insanity of the combat. Reality seemed to bend and twist in
sickening shapes and colors while he moved, but he made it clear to safety
outside the battle.
          	
          	Umbwa watched Rafiki closely as her old mentor did battle with
the few straggling hyenas he could approach safely. He wielded his staff
with the same power she remembered him having, and he was truly a thing to
watch while in battle. Umbwa felt a choke rising in her throat as she
watched Rafiki. A vague image, strong nonetheless, crossed her mind. She
saw a young mandrill, alone and scared, standing beside a stream, tears
rolling down her face. She watched the scent unfold in flashes: an older
mandrill offering the lost one food, shelter, love.
          	Umbwa struggled to her legs, knees weak, as she let the two
stones drop from her hands.

          	Njana led all of his aunts and his half-sister across the plains
and into the battle, cries of joy coming from the side of those battling
the hyenas. They rallied, and the fresh lions joined the struggle. Karama
could not be seen, but Simba and Jambazi were still fighting with their
full strength. Roars of rage filled the night air as the rain began to fall
in torrents, rivers of healing that began to wash away the drying blood
even as the new draughts flowed.
          	He searched for his father as the battle continued, and as the
hyenas began to fall back against the new combatant's onslaught, he found
his father.
          	Karama lay near the outskirts of the battle, his wounds many.
His eyes were open, but they showed a look of utter, blank peace. "No. .
.father," urged Njana. "Stand," he said, the tears beginning to fall from
his cheeks. "You. . .my cubs. You have to see my cubs."
          	The battle was being won behind him as another battle was being
lost. Njana cried his tears.

          Chapter 16: Siya Zazi.

          	Jaha and Adhama searched together for Jambazi, but they were
hard pressed to draw close enough to him. Whenever their gazes would meet
his body, he would move from view and engage in another duel.
          	"Jambazi!" roared Adhama over the sounds of the struggle. "Jambazi!"
          	Each of the sisters searched among the fallen combatants,
avoiding the main fights that were still taking place. The ground was
cracked and the grass trampled beneath their paws. The Pride Lands had
changed in a matter of moments.
          	The pride lions had begun to creep closer to the ending
struggle, Nala and Sarafina helping to beat back the few remaining hyenas.
Simba roared in defiance as the last member of the attacking army struggled
on its three good legs to make its way away from the carnage, back to the
elephant graveyard. Similar calls of victory went up from the other
survivors. With the help of Pride Munja, the day had been won. The rain
continued to come down in floods, occasional chains of lightening still
working their power across the skies.
          	Simba's Pride and Pride Munja joined together with Rafiki and
the other survivors and began to congratulate one another, nuzzling and
licking wounds in comfort. Timon, Pumbaa, and Zazu had arrived on the scene
sometime during the battle and were now running from lion to lion checking
to make sure each was not mortally wounded. The rain was beginning to wash
away all traces of blood when Mtoko broke the comfort with his next
sentence.
          	"Where is my father?"
          	Brows furrowed, and ears pricked up as the group began to search
among its members for Jambazi. A roar from the shadows of the promitory
alerted the group to the presence of yet another battle: between Jambazi
and Njana.
          	The lions ran, leaving all the other animals besides Rafiki,
behind. A circle formed around the combatants as strike was dodged, and as
blow was given in return. Njana was being repeatedly smashed into by the
large rogue, his eyes were filled with tears as he fought to keep balance
against the oncoming claws. Karama's body lay to the side like a discarded
bone, soaked, lost, and forgotten.
          	"Father!" yelled Mtoko from alongside Keli. "What are you doing?"
          	Jambazi grunted in exertion as he struck Njana a rough blow to
the chest, sending the younger, much less experienced lion to the ground.
          	Waka snarled as her brother was beaten about like a mouse, and
she tossed herself between the attacker and her sibling. "Get away!" A bolt
of lightening lit up the violet sky during her move.
          	Jambazi stepped back from the brave female. He swung his tail
behind him and glared at each of the lions surrounding him. Two of the
female cubs were sobbing loudly, their only comfort coming from Utaji,
Sarafina, and Sarabi. Nala and Simba stood side by side, looks concerned.
Johari had moved herself to Karama's body and was crying against it softly.
Jambazi's eyes lingered upon Jaha and Adhama, and they each shook their
heads. "This isn't right," said Adhama. "Why are you doing this?"
          	Jambazi watched Njana stand, and for the first time since his
return, he saw Adhama and Jaha. The wet air passed into his throat like
razors while he tried to clear his mind. His answer cave as an involuntary
reaction, the emotion of all his built up loneliness screaming forth and
out through his words. "For you!" he exclaimed. "And for them." His head
swung to where Keli and Mtoko were standing.
          	"No," said Mtoko. "We don't want this. What can we gain from
this?"	"A place to live. A kingdom! You're my son; you need a place to
rule."
          	"If you're going to kill my friends' father and brother over a
piece of land, then I am not your son. We have a place to live. Do you
really think a kingdom is worth killing for when we have all we need here?"
          	Keli, between choking tears, said, "And I would not  be your
daughter." The rain splattered against warm rock. . . and cold fur, as a
silence came.
          	Waka had moved to Njana's side now, and both were watching
Jambazi closely.
          	"I didn't kill Karama; Njana knows that." He spoke the words
slowly, carefully, as if they could make all his mistakes go away. He
realized they could not, but only after he had spoken them.
          	"Jambazi, leave him alone," said Jaha.
          	Jambazi began to gain a look of panic as he floated his gaze
from each of the other lions. Finally, with a deep nod, he broke his way
out of the circle with a cautious shove, and began to walk away, the rain
dripping down his mane.

          Chapter17: Busa Njana Iyo

          	Time passed, and the lands began their return the normality. The
grasses grew back, stronger than before, the ash of their parents feeding
them with power that could not be gained from plain soil. The same was true
of Karama and Njana. The cub had become an adult in the wake of his
father's passing.
          	"Everyone up!" boomed Simba, smiling in the morning light that
shone into the Pride's cave. Since the events of the previous few moons,
Johari, Waka, and Makalala had moved back to the Sun Lands. Simba's pride
felt their loss, but they each knew that Johari needed to be with her son,
at least for a while. Duama stood grinning at his father's side, his
newborn fat gone. Their was no complaining as the pride awoke and greeted
one another and the morning. Today was to be a day of celebration, not
regret.
          	Mtoko was the first one out of the cave, and he bound alongside
he friends and siblings as they walked through the morning air. There
really was no rush, but he seemed to think there was. The lions talked
about whatever came to their minds, and the conversation was lighthearted.
          	The Sun Lands embraced them with a burst of life. The sparse
trees were fertile, and the grasses were green. The sounds of animals could
be heard all around as they continued onward, feeling no exertion from the
walk.
          	"Keli will be there, right, Simba?" asked Mtoko, stepping back
from his place in the lead.
          	"Of course she will, Mtoko."
          	"Yeah, I know. I haven't seen her in days; it'll be good to talk
to her."
          	They continued the walk as morning began to pass; the sounds
that had surrounded them were gone, as were all of the local animals who
they had been made by. With the sun at their backs, it was not hard to see
the expanse of Pride Sun's home plateau as the approach was made.
          	"It's beautiful," said Nala with a rub against Simba's shoulder.
          	"Wow," added Mtoko and Duama.
          	Sarabi, Utaji, Adhama, Jaha, and Sarafina stared on with
wordless awe as they drew ever closer to the scenic view that had shown
itself to them:
          	Atop the plateau stood Njana and Keli. Both their heads were
held high, and Njana's mane blew in the wind. Keli had grown older in
stature since the Pride had last seen her, and her form was nothing less
than spectacular standing next to Njana. At the base of the plateau,
stretching as far as the eye could see, were the animals of the Sun Lands,
exotic and strange to the residents of Pride Rock.
          	The gathered animals spread their ranks as Simba's pride strode
through toward the platuea. Njana's eyes watched from the heights solemnly
as Simba stepped forward. A grin split the new king's muzzle, and he stared
to the heavins with a massive roar. He broke the clouds that morning.
          	Simba replied with a skyward roar of his own; he was followed by
Johari, who had appeared next to Njana alongside Waka and Makalala .
Eventually, from the young to the old, every lion of each pride was roaring
in unison. Silence came quickly as, coming into view atop the platuea, two
mandrills appeared, each holding a staff: Rafiki and another, a female with
a meerkat perched on her shoulder. Both of the apes bowed their heads
respectfully to Njana and Keli, and then turned to do the same for Simba's
Pride. They raised their staffs in unison to the sky, and the morning light
that the sun had been casting leapt out at all the onlookers, glowing a
bright red. Njana and Keli leaned into each other in a loving, sanctifying
nuzzle, and Pride Munja was restored.

          	Jambazi watched the ritual unfold from a safe distance off. He
had been tempted to roar when the other lions had, but his own guilt held
him from sharing their excitement. His gaze moved from muzzle to muzzle as
he settheir countenances to memory, their postures. His vow to have a
kingdom for his cubs still stood, whether or not they wished his means be
violent or otherwise. With confident steps, he turned away and ran. A
circle of flames burned around his heart.