others until he meddled in both areas. He had married a person who never bothered to listen to his words, or to be patient with him when he needed it the most. If only time could reverse. If only he could’ve made the decision to not be a shaman, he and Akase would’ve had a better chance.

            She’d still be here…

            He let out a pained whimper. The cold, wet reality ran down his face. Time could not be changed and neither could the bad things. The past could not be relived.

            The red color in Arif’s eyes was pale and he was drained emotionally, physically, and mentally. He felt paralyzed. Was everything he had been taught from his parents and the old mandrill shaman a lie? The Circle of Life was unfair sometimes, but he never stopped to consider how unfair it would be for him personally, or his kids.

            How were they fairing? Were they alright? Were they asking for him?

            Arif tried to move but he was too weak. He could barely lift his head. He was tired. He allowed the pain and grief to carry him into a deep sleep. Maybe when he woke, he would be well again and healed from this suffering.

            Ancestors, please, help me, he prayed as his eyes began to close.

OoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOo

Njozi stared at her brothers, watching them play with their friends. Not far away, her grandparents, Kovu and Kiara, were also watching. She was only half glad. She loved spending time with them, but… She frowned, her gaze lowering.

            Father should be here too. Where was he? Somewhere deep down, Njozi had the feeling that he wasn’t working with Rafiki. Did he say that so he didn’t worry anyone, them especially? He was grieving still. They all were. It would take him time because he knew her mother longer. And he had more memories. What about her? What did she have? What did Adabu and Adisa have? They could hardly remember any special moments.

            The young cub closed her eyes, anger welling. She’d tried so hard to make her mother see the truth about her dreams. She was laughed at and mocked. That tore at her worse than yesterday’s news. Oh, hearing her mother was dead had pained her, but it would never compare to the fact she had been abandoned, and called a freak in all but name. She and her brothers were left alone, and in the care of their grandparents. Her father was also abandoned, lost, and turning to a long time friend for comfort.

            Saada suddenly crossed her mind. How was she? She hadn’t seen her cub care taker all day. Did her father? Was that where he was now, talking with Saada, and once again pouring his soul out to her, as if she was the only person other than family who understood him? In the depths of her heart, Njozi prayed that was the case. She, like Adabu and Adisa, knew of the connection the lioness had to their father. She wasn’t upset. No one was, other than –

            Njozi growled and pawed the grass. Tears of rage and grief threatened to form. She’d only cried the day before for her brothers and father’s sake, but not for herself. She’d been scared she would make a scene, but here she was as alone as she could be. She fell to the ground, buried her face in her paws, and let it all out. The emotions she’d kept inside for the last few weeks all came from her tears and sobs.

            By the time she was through, she was drained. Her shoulders sagged; her eyes were red and puffy. She didn’t feel like playing at all. Would her friends understand? Would Adabu and Adisa? They knew that she was more torn over their mother dying. Of course they would! They have so far! She reminded herself of all that mentally.

            Slowly, and knowing her grandparents could see and not be worried, Njozi closed her eyes intent on taking a nap when she felt a gentle paw tap on her shoulder. She looked up behind her to see Sharif’s compassionate eyes. He was concerned, and it showed in his features. He wanted to help, and if she didn’t let him he would be devastated. Silently, and without hesitation, she patted a spot next to her, and the gray brown cub lay down beside her.

            They didn’t speak. There was no need. Sharif read her face. She would grieve for a long time. Sighing sadly, Njozi put her head down, but did not shudder as Sharif gently stroked her back with paw, purring softly to ease her pain. A moment later, Njozi closed her eyes. Sharif nuzzled her kindly and carefully and put his head down near hers. Njozi snuggled up to him and smiled. Sharif returned it.

            Kovu and Kiara exchanged glances as they watched the scene. It came as no surprise to them when Adabu and Adisa found themselves in the same position as their sister. Sharif’s sisters, Dhani and Sabiha were at the young princes’ sides: Dhani at Adabu’s, and Sabiha at Adisa’s. They’d all seen Njozi let out her agony and pain, had seen Sharif come and comfort her. They were all relieved, and Adabu and Adisa felt free to express their own grief, and like Sharif, Dhani and Sabiha were there to help.

            Kiara was grateful to Kadiri and Dailia’s children. Like Arif’s, they had good hearts. And they spent more time with her grandchildren than she, not to mention Akase.

            Showing a flash of temper she never revealed unless needed, Kiara growled lowly. What had gone wrong with Akase? Was it marrying royalty? Birthing royal cubs, or getting the impression that her husband loved shamanism more than anyone or anything else? Kiara knew the last part was false, but Akase had believed it. Or was hearing about Njozi and her gift of foresight, though she’d heard that after she and Arif separated.

            Kiara sighed sadly. There was no right answer. Akase had brought death on herself. It was a sad statement, but also true. She had been stubborn and selfish. She didn’t stop to consider that her actions would lead her down the wrong path. Kiara’s ears fell and she counted herself lucky that she’d been able to handle her children’s gifts and problems.

            “Kiara, are you all right?” Kovu asked. He saw the sadness and frustration in her eyes.

            She sighed and sniffed then nodded to him. “I’m okay, dear. I’m just… thinking.” She tried a smile.

            He nuzzled her and she rested her head in his mane. “They’ll be okay, and so will Arif,” he said with a purr.

            Kiara didn’t speak. Her heart went out to the cubs, as did Kovu’s.

OoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOo

“Prince Arif, awaken.”

            The voice came from everywhere. His ears twitched, his tail flickered, and something inside him stirred. Inside, he was warm. He thought he heard the voice from within as well. Slowly, and with a moan, Arif opened his eyes. What he saw made his jaw drop. His eyes widen in astonishment and he closed them for a moment and opened them again. Were his eyes playing tricks on him, or his mind due to exhaustion?

            Two beings were standing in front of him, auras shining around their bodies. They were not lions, but lionesses. He recognized them and felt a connection. He had seen them before. He searched his memory and understood. He had seen them in heaven, standing proudly beside their mates. His eyes filled but he couldn’t help it. The tears fell.

            The first lioness had eyes that were loving and gentle. Her face was full of deep wisdom, but it was her face that was familiar. He felt like he’d seen it all his life. Her eyes were like his and his mother’s, fiery hazel red. She had brown rimmed ears and her fur was a medium dark desert color. She stood with a grace that anyone who walked past her would probably bow. She was beautiful and looked frighteningly similar to his mother, but his mother had crème golden color markings, not this rich dark desert. She also had no rimmed ears.

            Arif knew this lioness. She was a queen, someone of his own flesh and blood, an ancestor and he was her descendant.

            “Sarabi,” Arif asked. He couldn’t believe it. She was here on earth and staring down at him, her grace pouring into his