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Okay, next chapter...
Bad Moon Rising
“Ya should think of it as a challenge, no?”
“Please, spare me that motivational mumbo-jumbo.” Rafiki couldn't help but chuckle, even though Zazu's smirk made him look less than amused, “A challenge? Don't make me laugh...”
“Talkin 'bout laughing: you'd do well considerin' dat more often...”
“Finding a hyena with half a brain, that's a challenge,” Zazu retorted, completely disregarding Rafiki's advice, “But what I'm up against... nearly impossible!”
“I no can be that bad...”
“No? You'd think that, wouldn't you. But I dare you: try finding one intelligent life form in that genetic dumpster commonly referred to as my family, just one!”
“That be harsh words 'bout your own blood...”
“But that doesn't make it any less true,” grumbled Zazu. Whilst speaking, he started hopping from branch to branch at an ever increasing rate; few issues got him more wound up the the current sorry state his once-refined family was in, “A bunch of nitwits, that what they are. All of those youngsters, compared to my generation, they're imbeciles, plain and simple. Not one gifted spirit among them fit for the office of majordomo, bah!”
“What 'bout that nephew of your's, what's-his-name?” Rafiki's suggestion was immediately answered by Zazu's cold stare.
“You mean Tiko? Don't even get me started on him! Sure, he's clever, but that's all the good there is to be said about him. No tradition, no respect, no morals... A hedonistic opportunist, that's what he is!”
“Others would say he's a bon vivant and a go-getter,” grinned Rafiki, reclining on his branch with his eyes closed, “It's ya own fault anyway: shoulda thought 'bout getting' a fine woman and raisin' you own family. Then you'd have no worries about who your successor should be.”
“The only thing I'm married to is this Kingdom,” replied Zazu, his beak held high as proud as he could.
“Don't sound like an awfully rewarding relation to me... But that's just how it is, I guess. Either way, you'll have to make do with whatcha got now, and that be Tiko.”
“Well huzzah...” mumbled Zazu. Suddenly, a thick drop of watter splat apart atop the hornbill's head.
“Your foliage is leaking,” noted the bird, staring up at the thick pack of leaves above him which made up the Tree of Life's proverbial roof.
“Maybe that be just da King's way of saying it's time for you to run along home and give me some of dat precious alone time... No offense, but it's way past ma bedtime already, and an old ape needs his sleep.”
Although it seemed as if Zazu was considering some amazingly witty return, all he managed was to go into a coughing seizure that seemed to last longer than is healthy. Rafiki considered that the bird had been having those for a long time now, and they started appearing ever more frequently.
“You okay? That sure sound like a nasty cough... Want me to take a look at ya?”
“I-I'm... perfectly... fine,” uttered the bird with some effort, trying to suppress further coughs, “It's just this ***** weather... This raining season just doesn't seem to want to come to an end! It's months overdue, and it's getting colder by the day... I'll be fine once I get some sun...”
He had a point there: ever since the by now famed 'Reunion' months ago, where Pridelanders and Outlanders had finally put aside their differences, it hadn't stopped raining for a single day, nor had they had one day containing even a mere hour of decent sunshine. The present day was no different: it had started out gray and ended in much the same fashion. Even the nights weren't spared, as the dark clouds obscured the bleak moonlight just as well as the sun's gleaming rays.
“Anyway, I'd best be going now. See you later, Rafiki.... Rafiki?”
The ape didn't reply from where he lay with his eyes close. In stead, hes just made some rattling snoring sounds. That was Zazu's cue for leaving.
“That ape never had any manners...” muttered the hornbill as he hopped over to a branch overlooking a gap in the tree's leaves; the perfect place to take off. He looked up at the blackened sky for a moment. “Blasted weather... this place is even worse than England...”
A few moments after the bird had taken to the skies and flew off to Priderock, Rafiki cautiously opened one of his eyes and looked around, after which he uttered a relieved sigh.
“Sheesh, I thought he'd never leave...”
The ape slowly got up and stretched yawningly, after which he felt it was appropriate to scratch his behind. After all: no-one was watching him, he presumed. What better time to scratch one's behind?
But he had other business to attend to as well, of course; Rafiki had hatched the idea to do some painting the next day. Well, he hadn't really hatched the idea, it had more or less come to him; those things happen when you serve as a shaman, the link to the world of the Ancient Kings. And those Ancient Kings had given him the order to start making paint; it really isn't that complicated. So he started making paint. Mind you, he conditions weren't ideal; the air was too moist, which made the colored dust he kept in separate pouches a bit pasty and sticky. Chances were the paint would become a bit chunky. But that wasn't a big deal; after all, he was a shaman, not an artist. The paint's quality would suffice.
After having found the fruit he was looking for in his expansive collection, Rafiki added the goo he found inside to the colored dust he had already placed in a more or less concave piece of bark. He repeated that procedure two times, each time with a different kind of dust. After a while, he ended up having three colors each on a different plate of bark. In the dry season, he'd have probably had to use the paint right away, but in moist conditions, he could risk leaving them out for at least a night.
Since he would rather not risk having the plates with paint falling out of the tree at night, he decided too depose them at the base of the Tree of Life. This course of action naturally held it's own risks, namely that the paint were eaten by some ignorant fool who mistook the substance for a free snack. In the past, Rafiki had had a very effective way of dealing with that problem, namely adding small amounts of laxative to the paint. As he grew older however, the ape couldn't afford wasting those anymore, so he just hoped previous experiences were enough to deter possible threats to the paint.
Confident the night would bring the visions he needed to tell him what to paint, the ape finally climbed up his tree and lay down on his favorite branch for a well earned nights rest.
Or so he thought.
Halfway a dream of which the content will forever remain a mystery, Rafiki suddenly veered up. That could only mean he had heard a noise which he had found disturbing, even though he was too fast asleep to have noticed it consciously. Shamans can do that, you know. Staying perfectly still, the ape tried to find out what it actually was that had awoken him, yet heard nothing but the monotonous clatter of raindrops falling. Then, out of the night's pitch black darkness that surrounded him, he heard another sound: rustling grass, muted by he rain's background choir. Not the kind of rustle cause by a sudden gust of wind, no, it was the distinct rustle of someone sneaking.
Motivated by the desire to keep his newly created paint from being spoiled, he decided to take a look down, at the base of the tree. As it was rather dark, he didn't really see anything at first. But as if by divine intervention, the moon suddenly shone through a small gap in the cloud deck above, making the base of the Tree of Life visible. To Rafiki's shock, he saw no paint. Not only had the paint disappeared, but the bark plateaus on which he had made the substances were gone as well. That was rather odd, as it could mean the paint had been stolen intentionally. Who on earth would want to do that? Painters, be it amateurs or professionals, were few and far in between to say the least.
Then there was yet another rustle. Rafiki quickly grabbed his trademark staff and hopped out of the tree. Chances were the culprit was still around. If he was, he was in for the beating of a lifetime. The only problem was: Rafiki couldn't see squat; the moon had disappeared again. He'd have to rely on his other senses then.
“Hey, who's out there?” he shouted. No response. “You'd better show yaself!”
Nothing but the incessant rain pouring down.
“Don't make me come over there, or you're in for for a world of pain!”
Another rustle.
“What the hell's that foo thinking, stealing my paint...” grumbled the ape as he cautiously inched closer, careful not to make a sound, “Don't think I don't know where you are 'cause I can't see nuthin'...”
For a moment there, standing some feet away from his tree, out in the pouring rain, Rafiki imagined smelling something he hadn't smelled in a long, long time. But by the time he realized what it was, the events had already caught up with him.
A bolt of lighting briefly lit up the surroundings in the brightest light. That's when he saw.
Half a dozen shadows around him, seemingly within arm's reach. Had they closed in on him, or had they just stood there, waiting, luring him into a trap? It seemed as if he'd never find out, since the figures all simultaneously moved in on the ape.
As the situation seemed to have escalated from a paint related dispute into a matter of life and death, Rafiki had no other choice than to attempt a desperate escape by swinging his staff around to ward of attackers, whilst somersaulting backwards to get out of their reach. The first part of that daring maneuver went well, as it didn't take long for Rafiki to feel his staff hitting a target (though he couldn't see who and where), but things went awkward right after that, as he felt four pairs of yaws mercilessly clamping his limbs in their iron grip. This, of course, made the ape fall down in the mud, after which a fifth assailant pressed Rafiki down. Although he could feel the enemy was rather bony as it pressed down on him, Rafiki still had a hard time breathing. The fact his head was being forcefully pressed to the ground with one paw probably had something to do with that, it's had breathing when your mouth is cluttered with mud. One of his nostrils was still open, however, which allowed him to identify the enemy on the basis of smell. It left little to the imagination: hyenas, the whole lot of 'em. They were about the last thing Rafiki had expected to encounter on a cold an wet day late in the rainy season. He was actually rather surprised there were any left, so to speak. The last Rafiki had seen of 'em was them getting their asses handed to them on and around Priderock a few years ago, in the aftermath of Simba's ascension as king.
But that didn't change a thing about Rafiki's current, rather perilous, situation. He tried calling for help, but found his cries muffled as his face remained pressed to the ground. Trying to wrestle himself from the hyenas' yaws wasn't an option either, for obvious reasons; the nickname 'bone-crushers' is more than just a nickname.
“You, get his staff!” he heard hiss the hyena on top of him to one of her subordinates. Next, she lowered her head slightly to address Rafiki, her voice no more than a crude whisper, “Listen, baboon, we both know there's no-one coming to save you. The lions don't do patrols when it's raining, and they won't be hunting tonight either. The only other ones who are still awake are the leopards, and they're staying clear of this place for the time being. The rain makes it impossible for anyone to smell us from a distance, or hear you screams for help. So don't even bother...”
“I ain't no baboon,” gritted Rafiki, “It's maddril to you.”
“I hear you still haven't gotten rid of that preposterous accent,” another voice suddenly retorted out of the dark night, hoarse and weak. The speaker seemed to find talking awfully tiresome, as he could be heard laboriously drawing breath in between words, “I mean, you'd think more than a decade would certainly suffice for someone of above normal intelligence to learn how to speak properly. You'd be surprised at what one can accomplish in a decade.”
Rafiki was puzzled. What was that guy talking about? Normal predators think in months and years, not decades. Most never even survived a decade. In fact, apart from himself, Rafiki couldn't remember anyone still alive among the predators of the Prideland and their surroundings who had even come close to see his third decade dawn. Certainly no lion...
“Who...”
Before Rafiki could finish his question, however, the sky above them suddenly started to clear: the rain gradually stopped, and faint moonlight broke through. It made the animal in front of him visible to Rafiki. The one thing he immediately noticed was how skinny he was: Rafiki could actually count his ribs. Overall, he looked rather scruffy, even to hyena standards: his fur was messy and bleak, his eyes dull and one of his hind paws seemed to hang limp, trailing behind him uselessly as the hyena slowly ventured forward. The only thing about him that didn't appear to be worn out were his stiff, thick manes, although they too were undoubtedly starting to turn rather grayish. Those manes were also about the only characteristic which seemed vaguely familiar to Rafiki.
“Is that... no... you...”
The hyena just smiled faintly, after which he called out to one of his accomplices.
“Did you get his staff? Great, hand it over...”
From the corner of his eyes Rafiki could see the hyena he had presumably hit with his staff limp towards the scrawny hyena, carrying the totem in her mouth. She deposited it in front of him.
“That old ape still packs quite a punch,” she grumbled.
“I know,” replied the other as he reached down to grab the staff, grumbling “That's why I've always wanted to do this...”
Fearing that the predator was about to break his precious totem in two, Rafiki urged him to reconsider.
“Hey, what the hell ya think ya'r doin'? Don't ya dare hurt my staff!”
Disregarding all angry comments made by Rafiki, the hyena still grabbed the staff in between his teeth. But in stead of breaking it in two, as Rafiki had feared, he just moved closer, swung his head sideways and hit Rafiki with all the strength he had. Not surprisingly, Rafiki yelped in pain as he was hit over the head with his own totem.
After having clobbered Rafiki, the hyena carelessly tossed the wooden staff aside. It ricocheted off the Tree of Life.
“How do you like being on the receiving end for once?”
“Not funny, not even a little... Aren't you supposed to be dead already?” grumbled Rafiki in annoyance, still unable to move, now with a painful bruise on his head.
“You'd know, wouldn't you?” sneered the hyena, “You left me to die all those years ago...”
“A bit late to come crawling here demanding apologies, don't you think?”
“Please, don't make me laugh... your excuses are about as much use to me now as those imagined ghouls you call 'Kings of the Past'. I'm not here for apologies – although you more than owe them after all you did.”
“I wouldn't know what you are talking about...” Although it wasn't apparent ant from what he said, the way the ape turned away his eyes from whom he was talking to went some way in revealing a trace of guilt, “I've never done more than my duty to the King of these lands and the Kings in the Sky...”
With surprising dexterity, the old hyena suddenly scrambled forward and grabbed Rafiki by the hairs. Since one of the hyena's remaining paws seemed to be worthless, he had no choice but to sit down before doing so, which negated some of the intended dramatic effect.
As Rafiki's head was forcefully jerked up, he came face to face with his old acquaintance. Not surprisingly, the hyena's teeth were in the same desolate state as the rest of his body, with infection running rampant throughout both his fangs and his gums. The resulting smell was simply appalling, and made even the otherwise cool Rafiki cringe.
“Your duty? Your duty!” Wave after wave of the animal's warm, nauseating breath engulfed Rafiki's face as the hyena growled at him, “I dare you, come say that to my face! Your duty would have been to resist the forces of madness, but instead you embraced them. Don't think I didn't hear it all, of how you gave that monster the blessing of your so-called 'Kings of the Past'. No, Rafiki, you raped everything there is sacred about your duty the moment you expelled me and my people from your beloved 'Circle of Life'...”
“You owe that to none other than yourselves,” Rafiki spat back, “You placed yourselves out of the circle the moment your people killed Ahadi's brother Razi, and his beloved Queen Uru...”
“I should rip your tongue out for just saying that...” whispered the hyena, after which he suddenly released Rafiki's hair, causing the ape's head to plunge back into the mud, “But I don't have enough power left in my paws, or teeth in my mouth, for that. Besides, that's not what I came to find you for at all...”
Silence.
“I suppose you expect me to ask what it is you're here for, then?” Rafiki guessed after a while.
“Close, but no cigar,” The hyena grinned, albeit only faintly, as every move he made seemed to result in an unhealthy dose of pain and fatigue. “We're saving that for later. I couldn't help but notice you has some paint prepared...”
“Of course you noticed, you stole it...”
“Thugs steal. When I do it, it's called compulsory redistribution of goods,” Even though he was in a rather uncomfortable position, not being able to move and such, Rafiki still couldn't help but laugh at that remark. “Glad to see we still got the same kind of humor. Now where's that paint?”
Within seconds, the same hyena that had fetched Rafiki's staff brought forward the three plateaus and deposited them in between Rafiki's old acquaintance and the Tree of Life. The elder hyena then limped towards the paint, sat down and took a bit of the paint on the tip of his paw. Than he just sat there for a few moments, seemingly just getting the feel of the paint.
“This sure has been a long time,” he mumbled, “I wonder if I still got 'it'...”
He moved one of his paws in the direction of the Tree of Life, when he was suddenly interrupted by a loud shriek originating from Rafiki.
“Stop! Stay clear of the Tree! Don't you dare touch it!”
The hyena smirked.
“Don't worry, stupid ape, I still remember: no painting on the Tree of Life. It's not like I could ever forget after that scolding you once gave me,” He looked around for a moment, until he had found what he was looking for: a flat stone at the tree's base. “Here, a stone, I can paint on that can I?”
“Don't be a smartass, you know what you can and can't do. And get to the point already, I'm sure you didn't come here to paint my blasted portrait,” grumbled the mandrill. The hyena seemed not to have heard that last bit, though, as he just went on and started painting on the flat rock in front of him. After a few minutes, however, he gave up.
“Nope, I've lost it. My paws shake too much now. Too old, I guess...”
A long silence ensued.
“Never wondered what life would have been if all that trash hadn't happened back then?” Rafiki just looked away, mumbling something incoherent. He obviously wasn't in the mood for answering that question. “It sure would have been a lot simpler if I had just sticked to painting...”
“Life is what it is. We all follow the path the Circle of Life has set out for us, it's no use speculating on 'what if',” the mandrill ultimately answered after another uncomfortable silence. But deep down inside, he knew that wasn't exactly true. Most animals followed a predictable path, a foreseeable path even. It was their life a shaman could spell out, if need be with help from the Kings of the Past. But like any system, this one too had unpredictable variables, something which Rafiki had only realized once it was already too late.
“And telling yourself that is what makes you sleep at nigh, right?”
“Talking about the issue of sleeping at night, how 'bout doin' what the hell it was you came here for and then pissing off again?” retorted the ape, now more angry than annoyed.
“Good point, actually... We shouldn't waste each others time.”
“So... whatcha here for then?”
“I'm here so we could write history.” That of course earned the carnivore a somehow what surprised look from Rafiki. “I figured you wouldn't get what I'm going at, not at first anyway. So I'll break it down for you. What is history, Rafiki?”
“What happened in the past, duh.”
“No. History is that which the past is said to be. And in all these Pridelands, and beyond, there really is only one who others will believe when he tells them what the past has been. The one even Kings turn to. You.”
For a moment there, both animals just stared at each other.
“You're giving me too much credit here,” Rafiki eventually noted, “And besides, when someone wants to know 'bout the history of these lands, I just tell them what happened. No more no less.”
“You know that's a lie. You just tell your side, you tell what others made you believe has happened...”
“And I suppose you're here to give me your side? Why would yours be any better then mine?”
“No reason at all. But it's time the other side's tale were told nonetheless.”
“Why now?” Rafiki continued to question. It seemed the hyena had trouble answering at first. Then he moved his head closer, right up to Rafiki's ear, and whispered.
“I blew it, Rafiki. I blew it. Yesterday, I was just an inch away from death. And I suddenly realized I had nothing. I've lost everyone I ever loved. I betrayed my friends. I estranged myself from my own kids... For what? I wasted my time believing revenge could somehow wind back time, but yesterday, I realized it can't,” He moved his head back, looking Rafiki in the eyes again. “I figured I had to do at least one decent thing before I'm gone. I'm going to fulfill a promise I made to someone I now consider a friend, and whom I betrayed, not unlike many others.”
If there's one thing you should never do, it's mock someone when they're in an emotional, trusting state. Not only is it rather insensitive, but it's simply dangerous. Emotional usually means instable. Instable means unpredictable. Unpredictable is always dangerous. And since Rafiki ultimately felt some compassion, not to mention guilt, for the hyena whom he was talking to now, he decided to abandon the mockery altogether.
“Okay, go ahead...”
The carnivore seemed to need a minute to regain his breath.
“Zira died a few months ago,” he suddenly spoke, “She went to war, and just before the end, she, lost her children, lost her pride and lost all hope.
Everyone seemed surprised her story abruptly ended like that... but I think she knew beforehand. Or at least, she must've feared it, because the eve before sending her son out to infiltrate the Pride, before she put her 'grand plan' in motion, she came to see me. And after I had declined every last one of her proposals, she asked me to promise just one thing, and then she'd be on her way.
At the time, I considered her request rather odd, but I think I get it now. She asked me that if, 'by some unimaginable misfortune', she didn't make it and 'Simba won', I would just do one thing: keep the memory of Taka and her alive the way she remembered it, no matter what slander would be told after her passing. Zira counted on me to make sure 'her' truth be told, just in case.
That's when she told me her story.
Now, I'm telling you.”
That's when he told me Zira and Taka's story.
And now, I'm telling you his. And mine. And Taka', Zira's, Mufasa's... The story that almost went untold. Almost.
ps: I'm afraid I'm not skilled enough to add a new poll option at this time, so we'll have to make do with 'Good'.
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Merry Christmas and/or happy holidays!
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