dormant.”

            Zira agreed with a nod. “You and Akase loved each other, yes, but you were strangers, different. You and Saada, however, are one. She has supported you for years, and she loves you, even without revealing her feelings. She also cares for your children and thinks Njozi’s dreams are a gift.”

            He looked his grandmother in the eye, his gaze serious, and hopeful. “Will she? Will I?”

            Zira met his gaze, unfazed. “That depends on you.”

            It wasn’t the answer he hoped for. He tried something else. “What about Akase? When I leave this world, will we –”

            Sarabi intervened. He wasn’t ready for that. “It is not for you to know, but you will when it is your time to join us in the stars.” Her voice was sharp, something no one hardly heard. She was always soft spoken.

            But Arif got the gist, and didn’t ask anything more related to him and Saada. Zira was right. It depended now, solely, on him. He would have to approach Saada himself. The question that edged its way to the surface of his mind now, was would she listen and accept him? Again, Arif shook his head. That was possible heartache for another day. As he stared at Sarabi and Zira, he felt the rest of the emotional pain ease from his shoulders. He felt good, felt he had the strength and endurance to continue loving his children, his family, his life, and continue the work he was granted as a shaman of the Pridelands. Maybe one day, he hoped to train Njozi in the same way if she wanted.

            There was a moment of silence and Arif looked at Zira and Sarabi, his eyes different, almost completely and openly understanding. His mind seemed to adjust to everything he had said and heard. All his questions were answered. He smiled genuinely for the first time since yesterday. Now, there was something to smile about. His life would go on, and if him and Saada getting together, depended on him then he was willing. But he wouldn’t say anything. Not until the time was right. He would miss Akase, that much was true, but he would not dwell on how things could’ve been if something had changed. All things happened for a reason and Akase dying was one of them.

            “I think we have helped you, haven’t we, Arif,” Sarabi said with an all knowing smile.

            The shaman chuckled. “Yes, I think you have. I was torn about Akase’s death and believed I could sleep away the guilt and pain. But all I needed was a push from my family, both living and on the other side.” He nuzzled Sarabi, then Zira. “Thank you, both of you.” Tears glistened in his eyes.

            Zira smirked. “Just don’t expect us to come down here every time you have a crisis, Arif. Otherwise, your grandfather Scar and I might have to come down and –”

            “Zira,” Sarabi reprimanded. “You know better, and so does Scar. We come down when we’re needed or when He thinks it’s important. In this case, it was both.”

            “Yes, I know that,” the desert lioness said rolling her eyes in annoyance, which caused Arif to laugh. “You have a long life ahead of you, Arif. So do your children. They need you, and they’re fine. They’re good cubs and special.”

            Arif smiled proudly. “I know, grandmother. I will not fail them, nor will I leave or forsake them.” He was sincere and serious. Sarabi and Zira believed him. He believed himself.

            “About you and Saada,” said Sarabi. “Only time will tell.”

            Arif nodded. He could live with that. He could live with life and raise his children the best way he knew how.

            Zira looked up at the sky, then to Sarabi. “It’s time,” she said. She looked at Arif. The family resemblance was uncanny. “Behave, Arif. Help your brother, love your children, and take care of the animals.” She smiled and gave him a wink.

            Sarabi nuzzled him. “Don’t worry about Akase. She’s in good care and so are you. Be safe. We’ll always be watching over you and your brother.”

            Arif nodded, feeling teary. He had no words. The fact that what was said, questioned, and answered, had been enough to render him speechless.

            “And your brother is getting close,” Zira said. She knew Arif would know what she meant.

            And he did. Even as he watched their bodies fade, he knew. A tear fell from each eye and down his cheeks. His heart soared and he felt renewed. Then, somehow, he felt himself slipping, fading like they had only he wasn’t disappearing.

            Arif opened his eyes and looked around. He was in the same place where he’d slept. He was confused, his brow furrowed. He was still in the same sleeping position. But seeing Zira and Sarabi… Was that a dream, or was it real? He silently pondered and as he did, he remembered everything, remembered every bit of the conversation he’d had with them. He still felt that peacefulness when his questions were answered, his worry reduced to nothing but a small smear. Was his experience something of the spirit? He didn’t know too much about it, other than it rarely happened to shamans.

            But it happened to him! There was no other way to describe it. He had literally been in the spirit, separated from his body.

            He laughed softly and grinned. Being in the spirit walking and talking with a grandmother on his father’s side, and great-grandmother on his mother’s side had been deep a privilege, but it would never happen again. It was a once in a lifetime thing, just like his trip into heaven. He would never tell anyone, although he could tell… No, he couldn’t. She’d understand, but it was too soon to start talking about his spirituality with Saada, that is, if she was even interested.

            Arif yawned and stretched. He looked up at the sky, seeing the sun beginning to set. He rose, turned, and ran for home. His steps were free. He felt better now than he’d had in weeks.

OoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOo

Baraka did not mind his brother coming home late. The important thing was that Arif had returned, and looking better than ever. There was a spring in his step and a softer tone to his face that everyone seemed to notice. The moment he set foot on the main platform, his children gathered to him. Arif embraced and kissed them. The pride allowed the prince to have time with his family.

            As Arif cuddled his sons and daughter, he lifted his head to see Saada. Though he expected his heart to skip a few beats, which it did, he gave her a warm smile, which she returned, then went to join her pride sisters. Arif was happy. She was all right. Once again true and never failing to disappoint, Etana had healed another pride member that everyone loved. He would thank her later, and talk to Saada also later.

            “Dad, how are you,” asked Adabu.

            “Are you feeling better?” Adisa chimed in, his head tilted to the side.

            He smiled. “I am better, my sons, thank you. Njozi, how are you?”

            The princess had tears brimming in her eyes and she rubbed herself against her father’s right foreleg. “I’m okay, too, Dad.” She sighed in relief, her heart and soul rejoicing. She had been worried he wouldn’t return. And she was so grateful to have been proven wrong.

            With the pride assembled, Baraka roared, said a small blessing, and everyone had their fill of the evening kill.

OoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOo

When night fell, and the pride was asleep in the den, Baraka walked outside into the cool evening air. He sat on the promontory, his eyes staring at the stars. He silently wondered what had come over Arif. Why was he so happy? He had just lost his wife! It