From: Thylacine 2000 Newsgroups: alt.fan.lion-king Subject: [FANFIC] "Etched in Stone" Date: Wed, 02 Dec 1998 20:54:57 -0800 Organization: Harvard University, Cambridge, Massachusetts Lines: 644 AUTHOR'S NOTE: The characters of Monsoon and Amok are my own creations. Amok is *somebody*'s father...... :) ---------------------------- "Etched In Stone" "We shouldn't be here," said the dull grey lioness, her large, blocky lower jaw quivering slightly with uncertainty. "Didn't you say your father told you never to come here?" "Well, yeah, he said we should never come here," answered the smaller of the two adolescent lions. His handsome comb-like black mane spread from between his ears to the small of his back, but had not yet filled out along his cheeks, shoulders, or nape--the effect was almost like that of a horse. "But--," and he winked one of his bottomless green eyes, "--he didn't say we should never *ever* come here." The other lioness shook her head, mesmerizing both young males as the magnificent arrowhead of darker fur between her eyes swayed back and forth. She was tawny, sleek, and seductive. "Sarabi's right. The only things I've ever heard about this place are how dangerous it is." With that, she gave a reassuring glance towards her best friend. The larger lion never let his adoring gaze waver from the tan lioness. He drank her in with amber eyes. "But Zira, you've got nothing to worry about with *us* around," rumbled the basso-profundo voice, which seemed quite out of place on one so young. Unlike his brother, his coat positively shone as the rays of the dawn, and scraps of a thick ruddy mane adorned the tops of his shoulders, the center of his chest, and the back of his head. Grinning, Mufasa strode next to Zira, and together they sat on the lip of the drainage gulley leading into the great gorge. "Yeah," Taka warbled in his odd lilting voice, slinking over to the still unsure tan beauty's other side and puffing out his chest with bravado. "*We* will protect you." Behind Zira's head, the brothers exchanged a wink. Sarabi saw the young males fawning over Zira, and, as usual, caught the little hints which they apparently thought nobody else noticed. Her head hung low from shame--shame at being less attractive than her friend, and at being envious of the attention Zira received. The males didn't ignore her, far from it--but both Taka and Mufasa showed little sign of being interested in her as anything other than a casual friend. And the only other male in the pride, besides King Ahadi of course, was-- "Amok!" boomed Mufasa. "Are you joining us or what?" "Here I am!" chirped the dark brown male, giggling as he slid on his rump down the steep escarpment towards where the other four had already gathered. Reaching the bottom, he tried to hop off and land with the grace of, well, a cat...... and ended up in a most undignified heap right in front of his friends. Their good-natured laughter echoed throughout the imposing granite spires which blocked out the sun. Picking himself up, Amok laughed a bit too. He was the youngest of them all, barely out of cubhood--he had but a large and unusual curl of dark brown hair sweeping up from the back of his head, sometimes obscuring the top of his broad face. "So," he began, "what's so special about this place anyway? Looks just like a great big hole to me." Mufasa paused, and looked back. "Wow. A *really* big hole. Look at Pride Rock." The others strained their necks, but all they could see was the very pinnacle of the stone monolith piercing the sky in the far distance; the craggy walls of the gorge were high enough that nothing else was visible. The five young lions kept very close to each other as they prowled through the wide and silent canyons. On all sides, variegated bands of ancient mud were clustered together in layers, stretching as tall and wide as the eye could see. They formed a great rainbow of browns and maroons; sunset, captured in immeasurably old dirt. It was a humbling place, and for quite some time the only sounds to be heard was the raining patter of their calm footfalls. Finally, Zira broke the silence. She edged a little closer to Taka and brought her mouth close to his ear. His heart raced, but she meant only to ask him a question. "Are you sure it was a good idea to bring him here?" came her smooth and concerned whisper. "Him?" Taka stammered. "Him who?" He thought for a moment. Could she mean--did she want time alone? "Mufasa?" Zira snorted, then recoiled as the sound echoed off the walls around them. "No!", came her reply, even more hushed. "Amok!" She glanced at the smallest member of their group, then up, far up, at the hulking boulders that slumbered on the high ledges towards the top of the crevice. "What with his parents.... you know...." Taka flinched at the memory, but shook his head slowly. "That was a long time ago. I doubt he even knew what was happening then, let alone remembers it now." Still, his eyes showed uncertainty, and Zira let the matter drop. The next to speak was Sarabi. "I wonder..... where does a place like this come from, anyway?" She actually cared little about it, but wanted to make sure the older males remembered she was there. Mufasa cleared his throat, and chuckled softly, sending Sarabi into a hidden paroxym of delight. "Interesting you should ask..... I just myself found out the other day." Taka's eyes widened. "You *did*? How? Father would never even allow me to *talk* about this place with him." Mufasa chuckled again. "That's why I didn't talk to him about it. I asked Monsoon." Presently it seemed as if a miniature storm had built up inside the gorge, as the other four lions gasped in shock. Monsoon was King Ahadi's majordomo, a huge and terrifying martial eagle with a wingspan as great as the King's entire body was long. With his horrid shrill voice, wicked beak, black-shrouded angular face, and penetrating eyes, he represented all that was awesome and frightening about the King's power. His intelligence was legendary, but his awful screeches and the slashes his beak and talons could inflict were well-known facts among nearly all the lions, most especially young and rambunctious cubs. "No one speaks to M-Monsoon!," stammered Amok. "Well, no one who isn't begging for mercy before Father passes judgment," corrected Taka. Mufasa's grin seemed impossibly large even for his own very broad, muscular face. "Naw. You just have to know how to get on his good side." Four jaws dropped. "He *has* one?" squeaked Zira. "I guess so. All I did was go up to him right after he'd fed, and ask him to settle an argument a friend and I had." Now the gapes of astonishment turned to undisguised horror. Mufasa quickly backpedaled. "Don't worry--I didn't say it was any of you who argued with me. He won't come after you." After sighing with relief, Taka was overcome by curiosity. "So? What did he say about this place?" "He said," began Mufasa, eyes staring off into nowhere, "that every few years, the great rains come down much harder than usual, and the river overflows and floods. It gets bigger and faster and more powerful, and as it crashes into the side of the riverbank--" He stopped. Amok practically leaped into the larger lion's face. "What happens?" Mufasa smirked. "Nothing happens. For no one storm is great enough to do any damage to the rocks, the mountains. But..... he said that over entire lifetimes.... hundreds of thousands of lifetimes..... the water crushes the rocks and washes them away, leaving--" and he gestured to no place in particular "--all of this, this nothingness behind." "Impossible," said Taka, his voice a shocked whisper. "Water isn't harder than rock. Everybody knows that." "If the water has been flooding since the beginning of time, though, Monsoon seems to think it really can tear through the mountains like that." Amok thought about Mufasa's revelation very hard, then expressed his opinion: "WOW!" "Look, over here...." continued Mufasa, nodding his great golden head towards a particularly vivid pattern of horizontal stripes resting beautifully in the rock wall. "You see those? That's where the land *used* to be. Then the river came, and ate it all away. And then the land was down *there*.... and *there*... and *there*....", nodding his head at each successive vanished world. "The river...." mumbled Sarabi. "I always thought it was so beautiful." She glanced back, towards where memory told her the natural dam of dead logs usually lay.... and gasped. "Wh-where are we?" The others looked, to see that a shear wall of the painted rock rose up directly behind them, seemingly cutting off the passage through which they had came. Taka, as usual, was the first to regain his composure. "Nothing to worry about. We must have just taken a turn as we walked here. If we just follow along the wall, we'll end up where we first came in." Sarabi began to breathe very quickly. "I want to get out of here. Now." Mufasa padded towards her and smiled gently. For a moment, Sarabi forgot her fear, as she regarded the future king with buttery eyes. "Don't be frightened," purred the male. "It's a beautiful day. The river isn't going anywhere." Then it was Zira who spoke. "No. No, she's.... Sarabi's right. I want to get out of here." Nervously she broke away from the others and walked towards the opposite wall. She stared at it for a very long time. "This... is a place of death. Destruction..." The three males exchanged confused smirks. Taka rushed to Zira's side. "You're right!" he proclaimed breathlessly. "It's a death place! We're all surrounded by it!" With exaggerated squeals, he began to lurch drunkenly throughout the center of the valley floor, trying his hardest to keep a straight face while imitating being pursued by some horrid nightmare. "Look--look, it's over there! Wait, it's behind Sarabi now! Don't worry--I won't let it get you!" He leaped heroically between Sarabi and the wall of the gorge and began a valiant battle with empty air, complete with steaming curses and extended-claw swipes. "Fear not--I'll hold it off!" Then his attention was distracted by a large butterfly which skipped indolently just above their heads, its blue wings now and again showing off striking yellow ornaments as they blinked open and closed. Taka now outdid himself: Eyes wide and chest quivering, he reared up on his hindpaws and with all the mock terror he could summon, he pointed at the ephemerous creature with a forepaw and, in an intentionally shrill voice, wailed "Look out--it's DEEAAAAAAATH!" His wide-eyed clowning soon had both other males clutching their sides and rolling around, spasming with laughter and begging for mercy, and even Sarabi managed to forget about her apprehension and grin a bit. Zira, though, seemed less than amused. "Taka, you're always talking about how smart you are--I'm surprised you don't see what I mean." That quieted him down. Forgetting about his butterfly adversary, he regarded Zira with a slightly hurt expression on his narrow face. "Look around us," Zira said haltingly. "All this, everything..... Whatever comes into this place is strong enough to tear mountains to shreds and lives longer than everything else that has ever lived. Think of what it can do to us." Now they were all looking a bit edgy. "So strong...." Zira continued. "The mountains look so strong--and they're powerless. Look--" she pointed out another series of stripes, across the canyon from those Mufasa had shown "--look what has happened to the land. It used to be here.... then it was taken away. And.... and so much *time*...." Sarabi didn't at all like the high-pitched, urgent tone Zira's voice was starting to pick up--it was totally unlike her usual reserved, sophisticated self. "So much *time*," the tan lioness repeated, and shivered, the dark point between her eyes blurring from her fear. "Lifetimes.... washed away." Her voice was now toneless and flat. The other lions were now assembled around her. Sarabi leaned up against Zira's right shoulder and Mufasa her left--together they could feel their friend shivering violently, uncontrollably. Amok stroked the middle of her back with his forepaws, a sense of dread slowly overcoming him. For as long as he could remember--which wasn't especially long--he had looked up to Taka and Mufasa and Zira and Sarabi, had admired their strength and boldness. He didn't remember ever seeing any of them so dumbstruck before. Mufasa gently stroked Zira's cheek with his own, the scraggly beginnings of the forepart of his mane tickling her ear. He tried to think of something to say to reassure her, but could not. Instead, he glared out of one eye at his brother. "Nice going, Taka," Mufasa whispered. "I told you we should never have come here." "Me?" gulped Taka incredulously, a hint of anger gleaming in his smokey eyes. "This was all *YOUR* idea, Mister Monsoon-Told-Me!" Zira looked up again. She stared blankly ahead, mesmerized by the swirls and stripes of the few rocks left behind from the land the river had devoured. "So much time.... Entire lifetimes. We can measure it--no, I don't think we'd even be noticed." Slowly, gingerly, she extended a paw and, gritting her teeth with determination, touched the wall in front of her. All the saw were the colors; almost unconsciously, she extended a claw, and dug it into a point on the wall. "Here..... I was born," she intoned as if from someplace very far away. "And there--" she slowly dragged her claw upwards an inch or two "--I die." Like a thing already dead, her paw fell limply back to the ground; she left behind a neat vertical line a few inches long inscribed in the rock surface. Mufasa raised an eyebrow, mystified. The colors--the ancient rainbow, the last and most beautiful pieces of that which had been taken away--he couldn't tear his gaze off them. He too found himself reaching out towards the wall. He dug his claw in just below where Zira had--after all, he was older. "Here I was born." Then he slowly dragged his claw upwards. He intended to draw a straight line of his own, but something, some unseen pebble, a fossilized whisper, jarred his claw, and suddenly his line curved inwards until it crossed that of Zira's. It ended several millimeters below the top of hers. "There I die," he mumbled. He blinked his eyes, as if awakening from a stupor, and moved his head close to get a look at what he and Zira had carved. There, on the face of the wall, was a narrow, slightly-oval shaped cleft, with points at both ends. About two inches long, it hung there at eye level, like a scar. Taka cleared his throat. "Ah, you've all gone flaky. It's not healthy to think so much about death. Come on, let's--" "Naw, Taka," chuckled Amok. "I see what they're talking about. But I *don't* see why they're so worried about it!" And with his signature lopsided grin on his face, he bounded, as only one just out of cubhood can, back towards the opposite side of the canyon. Bracing himself on a little slope of dried mud at the base of the wall, he beckoned for the others to pay attention. "Watch *this*, you guys!" Amok extended a claw and poked it into the very bottom of the wall, as far down as he could reach. "Here I was born." And then, with a great childish grin on his broad brown face, he straightened his legs and jumped as high upwards as he possibly could, raking his claw through the multicolored clay strips as he went up. When he reached the highest point of his jump, he quickly yanked his claw away from the wall. "And there *I* die!" He landed, and admired his handiwork. There was now a deep line over nine feet tall carved into the side of the canyon; the marks of Mufasa and Zira were positively dwarfed in comparison. "Haha! You guys should've tried for longer ones!" crowed the young male. Before the others could respond, though, the still air of the gorge was shattered by a high-pitched scream: "NOOOOO! No! Stop! What are you *doing*?!? Stop!" A gangly long-limbed cloud of white and brown fur, ornamented at both ends with red and blue highlights, came bounding down the ledges of the gorge upon prehensile feet, a wizened staff grasped in its hands. The new arrival rushed up to the crowd of thoroughly confused lions, a look of disbelief in its widening eyes. "Oh, hey Rafiki," Taka said with a warm grin. "What are you doing here?" "What am *I* doing here?" the monkey replied incredulously, in a tone made even more pinched by his bizarre accent. "What are *you* doing here? More importantly, what are you *DOING* here?" Then he looked closely at the shape Mufasa and Zira had carved into the side of the canyon face. His eyes widened; his whole body began trembling violently. "No." The madly staring eyes went from Mufasa to Zira and back again. "*NO*!" >From out of nowhere, Rafiki produced a strangely-shaped gourd. Unceremoniously, he smashed it open on the floor, and scooped out a fine powder from the hollowed-out fragments. Mixing it with the cool clay from the floor of the valley, he muttered something too low and fast for any of the others to catch; then, he spit into his hands and mixed all the bizarre ingredients together. His movements were quick and frenzied and clumsy--more than once he dropped some of the powder on the floor, which caused him to wail even more piteously and then scoop up more from the inside of the gourd and start all over. Finally, he was satisfied with whatever he'd been doing, and with fast, broad, rough strokes, he splayed his anointed hands out across the shape produced by the two lines Mufasa and Zira had carved. Grunting out more and more strange imprecations, he shoved against the wall for all he was worth, until the weird mushy porridge squelched between his fingers and stained his sparse fur. The four lions were totally perplexed. Mufasa tapped the monkey on the shoulder, but Rafiki whipped his head around and gave him such a furious stare that the gold lion backed away. Finally, Rafiki pulled his hands away from the wall. His mixture had totally filled in the shape the two lions had carved, evening out the surface of the rocks. For a few moments, they heard Rafiki's panicked breathing begin to slow and become more regular, and his muscles lost their tension...... .....and then very suddenly, all of Rafiki's mixture chipped and sloughed off the surface of the wall, and the shape was again revealed for all to see. Not a single particle of the monkey's potion remained in its crags. Rafiki gave forth a small sob, and sank to his knees. "Too late.... too late..." Zira's eyes were wide with uncomprehending terror; none of them had ever seen Rafiki so upset before. Taka saw her condition, and briefly rubbed her muzzle with his own. She leaned towards him, tears starting to well up, and pressed back against him. Taka had dreamed of doing this for months.... years.... yet now, somehow, it felt as if it had been spoiled. The confusion around them took away the sense of comfort and achievement he felt he deserved. Breaking away, he eyed Rafiki suspiciously. "Here now, Rafiki," the adolescent male began in the deepest and most commanding voice he could muster, "you haven't by chance lost anything recently? Like oh, say, your mind?" Sarabi chuckled, and for a moment Taka grew bolder. He tried to think up another quip, but a gasp from Rafiki silenced him. The monkey had turned around, and now saw the enormous line Amok had carved. His mouth agape, Rafiki uttered short soft moans as he staggered towards the opposite wall of the canyon. He stared up.... and up... and up.... taking in the full height of the mark. Then, trembling, he buried his face in his hands. "You couldn't have... you just *couldn't* have," heard the lions between his sobs. Mufasa stepped forwards, brow furrowed with confusion. "Calm down, Rafiki. We were just playing around." Rafiki snarled, and spat on the ground. "You should not play with things you do not understand!" The sun-colored lion grinned--he'd thought of something clever, with which he hoped to impress Zira. "Then remind me never to play with you, banana-brain." "And remind me to cry when you--!" Rafiki stopped himself, and put his face back in his hands, slowly shaking his head. "Pointless." Mufasa snorted derisively. "Oh, come *on*. Don't tell me there's any harm to be done by marking up some rocks." "Well," Taka interrupted, "just a bad smell when Dad does it." This time, everybody laughed, even Zira. Mufasa grew bolder. "Look, I'll show you there's nothing wrong." He reared up on his hindlimbs and stretched out his paws, extending all his claws. Just as he was about to bring them all down across the striped side of the canyon wall-- --Rafiki swung his walking-stick from both hands with as much force as he could, catching Mufasa right in the back of his head. The lion uttered a short cry, and in a lazy pirouette sank to the ground and was very still. Sarabi rushed to his side; Zira started to follow, but something in the near distance caught her attention, and she moved after it, away from the others. Rafiki looked down contemptuously; but that contempt soon turned to fear as Taka advanced on him, black mane bristling. "Nobody hits my brother," the young lion hissed, "except me." Rafiki recoiled, but never took his eyes off Taka's. "I am... pleased.... to hear that you care." "Huh? Why would you say something like that?" "More importantly," moaned a groggy Mufasa as Sarabi helped him to his trembling legs, "why would you *do* something like *THAT*?" Before the monkey could reply, they heard a low moan from a short distance away. All eyes turned towards Zira. "You.... you guys..." she mumbled. "You really ought to come see this." The brothers quizzically glanced at each other, but followed Sarabi and Amok over to the part of the canyon floor where Zira sat, her gaze fixed on something between her paws. They surrounded her, and sat in a small circle. "Look," she said. On the ground sat the blue and yellow butterfly they'd seen earlier. Now that they could see it closer, they saw that it was quite beautiful, and perfect in every way..... except for the fact that it was dead. "It just fell out of the sky," Zira mewled. "I've.... never seen anything like that happen before." Taka cocked an eyebrow. "Hey, Rafiki?" There was no answer. "Rafiki?" Nothing. They looked: the monkey was gone. "I want to go home," Sarabi said in a small voice. "I want to go home. Now." "We're going home," said Mufasa icily. They walked along they way they'd came in total silence; now, even their footsteps sounded muffled and distant. The sun was setting--it hadn't *seemed* like they'd been in the gorge for very long, yet already the great escarpments were casting impenetrable shadows across the path. It was Amok who broke the silence. "That was weird. *Really* weird. That guy really freaked out when we touched those rocks. Who is he?" "Wha? Oh, that's right, you haven't been here very long. He's a friend of the family," mumbled Mufasa. "But.... Hmm. We didn't *all* touch the rocks." Sarabi recoiled, but he wasn't looking at her. Mufasa's eyes were fixed on his brother, a small sarcastic smile on his face. "What's wrong, Taka? Are you scared?" "Huh!," the smaller male grunted. "Of course not. Just didn't feel like any fingerpainting." "Well, you might as well do it now. Rafiki's probably gone to tell Father about what we've done, and then we'll *really* get it. You'll probably never get the chance to do it again--I know *I'm* sure never coming back here." "Not interested." "Oh, you'll box with butterflies but you don't want to scratch some stones?" And with that, Mufasa reached out and grabbed one of Taka's paws. "H-hey! What are you doing?" Taka tried to snatch his paw away, but Mufasa was bigger and stronger. "C'mon, Taka. Your turn," Mufasa sneered, as he dragged the smaller lion towards the nearby wall of the cliff. Taka's eyes widened, and he began struggling to pull his paw away. "Get--get *off* me! Lemme go!" Mufasa grinned. "Okay!" And with that, just as Taka was pulling with all his might, Mufasa released his paw. Taka's paw swung wildly, and the back of it slapped into the wall. "Ow! Why did you *do* that?" demanded Taka with fearful eyes. But before Mufasa could answer, Taka saw his brother's smirk fade, and contort into a grimace of terror. Looking back behind his shoulder, Taka saw a huge crack racing up the entire span of the wall, starting from the exact point where his paw had touched it. The crack expanded and dashed up like a spider, and the great boulders on the top of the escarpment quivered. Then, as all the lions watched in horror, the rocks began to fall. The lionesses leapt for safety; Taka sprang up the cliff face and hauled himself up onto a ledge. Mufasa was about to do the same, but heard a small cry behind him. Amok stood immobile at the base of the cliff, crying out in fear as he stared helplessly at the enormous stone rushing down to crush him. Then, with a scrabble and a flash, Mufasa had pounced in, seized the smaller lion, and leapt out. A hair's breadth behind them, the rocks crashed down with a sickening thud, and a great cloud of dust spread through the air, making them all choke and gag. Mufasa tilted his head up, trying to get a lungful of fresh air to clear away the dust, and as he did so he saw Rafiki sitting on the uppermost ledge of the canyon. The monkey looked down, his eyes narrow slits. "You risked your life for him," Rafiki stated. "Why?" Mufasa coughed and hacked, but still managed an imperious glance. "What do you mean 'Why?' Had I not, he would have been killed!" "Would he now," Rafiki muttered, stonefaced. For a moment, he let his eyes flick back towards the part of the gorge they had all just left; from that high angle, he could still see the huge mark Amok had cut. "Would he." Mufasa did not know how to reply. Instead, he looked down, at the dusty form of Amok huddled between his legs. The overhanging curl of Amok's young mane was plastered to his forehead with sweat. His eyes were impossibly wide. He looked long and hard at the pile of fallen rocks, the roar of their arrival still echoing in his ears. "M.. Muh..." His tiny body started to tremble. "Mama! P-Papa! Don't go.... please, d-don't!" Zira groaned softly to herself. Taka's head slumped low, almost brushing the ground; he could not bring himself to meet the cub's terrified, tear-stained eyes. "Oh, Amok," Taka whispered, near tears himself, "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry." Mufasa grimaced, and turned back towards where he'd last seen Rafiki. To his surprise, the monkey was still there. For a long time they stared at each other, as Amok's piteous sobs echoed through the gorge; finally, Mufasa spoke. "Father was right. We should not have come here." Rafiki nodded. "Are... are you going to tell him?" the elder lion asked. Rafiki sighed softly. "No. No point in him knowing beforehand." At the first word, Mufasa had sighed and squeezed his eyes shut with relief--but the last sentence shocked them open. "Know beforehand? Know *what* beforehand?" Rafiki was gone. During the whole time that they took to emerge from the valley and walk back to Pride Rock, Amok never stopped crying. ------------------------------------------- *AHEM*....... So, whaddya think? :) For those who wanna see what Monsoon's species, the Martial Eagle (Polemaeetus bellicosus) looks like: http://www.castlenet.com/ehorvath/pictures\martial.jpg http://www.castlenet.com/ehorvath/pictures\martial1.jpg (And yeah, I admit I ripped off a bit of Hitchcock. But if "12 Monkeys" can do it, I can too.) -- T T T "BETTER LIVING THROUGH ZOOLOGY!"