to me.”

            “I’ll be okay, Kadiri. It’s just a cough.” She pulled away and shut her eyes. She coughed again, harder.

            Kadiri shook with fear. Hearing her cough made him sick to his stomach. “No, it’s not just a cough,” he said and he watched her. She was trembling. “Dailia, you’re not gonna like what I’m about to say, but I will say it so, please don’t disagree…”

            “What is it, Kadiri?”

            He took a deep breath and lowered his head, his mane covering his face. “Go home,” he said firmly but with gentleness.

            She was livid. “What? You’re telling me to go home?” Her eyes burned and she snarled. He continued walking but she ran in front of him. He tried to move but she blocked him. Kadiri sighed and looked at her while she stared into his eyes. “I am not going home, Kadiri!”

            “Dailia, you coughed again and it wasn’t like your previous. It was violent and just look at you. You’re shaking.”

            “I’m telling you for the last time, I’m f-fine!” She shook her head, feeling a wave of dizziness come and she stepped back, her forelegs near buckling.

            “Then what do you call that?” She didn’t reply. He moved to her and put his chin atop her head. “Dailia, please, for your own sake, go home and rest. Do this… if not for your own self then do it for me and the kids. They don’t want you sick anymore than I do and Baraka wouldn’t either.”

            Dailia sighed, knowing she couldn’t win. He was only arguing because he loved her. She’d have done the same. If she didn’t go, he’d take her back himself. She looked up at him, giving a nod and a sigh of surrender. “Alright, alright if it’ll make you happy I’ll go home.” He smiled at her. She rested her head on his shoulder. “I’m sorry,” she whispered.

            He wrapped a paw around her back. “It’s alright, dear. As much as I don’t want you to go, your health is more important to me. When I return home, if Baraka is there, I will let him know the reasons you weren’t with me.”

            She nodded and pushed her head underneath his chin, feeling the softness of his mane against the side of her face. “Okay.” She removed her head from his comfort and reached up, kissing him on the cheek with her tongue. “Be safe, love.”

            He kissed her gently. “I will and I want you to be safe too.”

            “I will,” she replied and began to walk away.

            “Dailia!” he called after her. She turned. “I love you!” he yelled, his voice suppressing the emotion he felt.

            “I love you too!” she yelled back and continued on her way.

            Kadiri watched her go. His heart sank into his stomach. He faced the front, staring ahead. He felt cold and looked up at the skies. “Please… let her be safe… let this be nothing. I… I don’t wanna lose her,” he prayed.

OoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOo

Rafiki and Arif stared at the Pridelands from the boughs of the Tree of Life. They were silent and relaxed. It had been a long and exhausting day. They had so many injured animals coming and going that neither bothered to keep track of how many came for treatment or advice. The day had passed quickly. The mandrill and lion were so tired that they were surprised they hadn’t fallen asleep near the wall.

            The sky’s color was starting to change, the sun getting ready to set. Afternoon, or mid-afternoon, was upon them.

            Finally, after a long silence, Arif spoke. “Rafiki,” he began calmly.

            The mandrill slowly turned his head. “Yes, Arif,” he said, also in a calm voice.

            “Shamans they… When they get a message or something from the spirits above are they… Are they supposed to keep a said message a secret?”

            Rafiki was surprised. No one ever asked him a question like that before. “Well… it depends, Arif,” he said. He rose and walked over to the lion, placing a hand on his shoulder. “Why? Do you have something you want to tell me? Did you hear de voices of your ancestors?”

            Arif flinched and turned away. “Not just their voices, I actually saw them,” he said in his mind but he couldn’t say that aloud. He had promised. “I-in a way, yes,” he said at last. “But… Rafiki, you’ve always been in contact with them, right, or at least my great-grandfather, Mufasa?”

            The question amazed the mandrill. Now that he thought on it, he hadn’t heard or felt any winds from his old king in weeks. The winds were completely silent. He hoped nothing was wrong. A moment later, he was able to answer.

            “Yes, I have contact with Mufasa. He was my king, but I’ve lived long enough to see many kings. But it was Mufasa I feel the strongest bond with. Dere comes a time for many shamans when dere is a king or queen with a special purpose. For Mufasa… though he was a wonderful king and united de Pridelands, sadly his life was supposed to be cut short.”

            “Why do you say that?”

            Rafiki smiled. “Do you really think you or your brother would be here if Mufasa had lived, if his brother hadn’t killed him?”

            Arif thought hard. Would he or his brother be here?

            When Mufasa died, his brother, Scar, had become king but his cubs, at least in Scar’s eyes, were unfit to rule and it forced Scar’s mate to find a rogue and obtain an heir, an heir who was Arif and Baraka’s father.

            Arif knew that everything happened for a reason and that Mufasa’s death, and everything Simba went through was supposed to happen. He learned over the last few years that the Circle of Life had its bounds and that when something was taken, there was something to replace it. Where there was death in one place, there was life in another. It was the never ending circle and it kept everything in balance. With Mufasa’s death, the Circle of Life was not threatened, but changing, allowing the inhabitants of the Pridelands to go through some very hard times and they prospered, even with the return of Mufasa’s heir, Simba.

            Arif sometimes wondered if Scar was pleased when his chosen heir, Kovu, took the Pridelander throne and was king, but not in name or by force. When Scar had escorted him out of heaven, the dead king told his great-great nephew that he was proud of his adopted son, that Kovu was the leader he could’ve been. So the lion shaman had to ask himself mindfully, would things have been better if Mufasa had lived? The answer was both easy and painful but he refused to allow his mind to answer the question.

            “Arif?” asked Rafiki, waving a hand in front of the lion’s face. But Arif was still, his eyes distant and not focused. “Arif?” the mandrill tried again. No response. Rafiki sighed and walked over to the tree wall where his staff rested. He came back and lifted the staff upward, tapping Arif on the head gently. Still nothing… it was as if the lion was lost in another world.      Rafiki sighed loudly and whacked Arif on the head, hard.

            The lion yelped and put his right paw to the top of his head, wincing in pain. He glared at the mandrill but smiled weakly. “Thanks,” he grumbled.

            Rafiki laughed and set his staff down. He leaned on it and continued speaking. “Arif, shamans can have contact with de spirits of kings who ruled