stream. I remembered him asking me questions about the customs of humans. I remembered all the times that Mufasa, Simba, and I would roughhouse. And then, the memory of Mufasa’s broken body swam into focus, before being replaced with another image of a steep cliff that led into a large patch of thorns.

Something clicked in my mind, and I snapped my focus away from the rippling water. Simba had fallen from this cliff to his death. His footprints were clearly heading over the edge of that cliff. Yet Scar had told us that Simba had been trampled to death.

Slowly, my mind began to work the situation. Realization slowly came to my mind. Scar had told us something completely different than what had really happened.

One thing became very clear to me; the pride did not know what really happened that day in the gorge. Scar had lied. Why was unclear, but Scar was definitely hiding something. As my mind worked faster and faster, trying to unravel the mystery of it, an eerily possible idea presented itself to me. Was it at all possible, that Scar had played a hand in the deaths of Simba and Mufasa?

My mind was racing now. It made sense. Scar deliberately took Simba to the gorge, and refused to have me accompany them. Why? He did not want the chance of another person witnessing the event, and possibly surviving. He knew I did not trust him, and he knew it would be harder to remove me from the picture. Eliminating two family members who, to an extent, trusted him was easier. I knew that Scar had held a role in the accident that occurred in the gorge. I was unsure of what that role was and of the job it consisted, but Scar definitely played a hand. Now I was sure that what had occurred was no accident.

n to his death.

And another matter was nagging at me. What would happen if I revealed this to the lionesses? Word of me telling rumors of Scar’s deceit would surely reach him, and then what? If my theory was anywhere close to the actual happenings, and Scar DID have something to hide, he would surely kill me to silence me. He was more than capable of it, as shown by his barbarity and cruelty this morning when he murdered all the cubs.

The excitement of my discovery had faded away, and I knew that I could not reveal my idea to anybody, no matter how probable it seemed. If what I found had been true, then I would surely be silenced, one way or another. And if I started to tell the pride what I thought was true, and it turned out to be false...

I shuddered at the thought of what Scar would do to me. Death would be too easy of a punishment for crimes against a king's credibility, no matter how credible he was.

It was decided for me. I had to keep my mouth shut, at least until I found something more concrete to base my theory on. I decided that I would eventually go back to the gorge when I could to see if I could find such evidence.

As I thought this, my mother's words echoed in my head.

The answers will present themselves to you when the time is right. The night is always darkest before the dawn.

I looked back down to the water, unsure of what was to come next. If this was the beginning of the 'night' my mother was referring to, then I had much to fear of the night to come.

So much had changed in such a short amount of time. Only yesterday the Pride Lands were completely unspoiled, and were ruled with a fair paw. Now, not even twenty-four hours later, they were beginning to be rent apart by vicious, selfish monsters.

From a distance behind me, I heard the devilish laughter of a pack of hyenas. I glanced around to see a large group of them heading towards me. Part of me wanted to go and attack them, to defend my small piece of privacy, but I knew it would be pointless. Whatever amount I could kill, they would only be replaced by the hundreds of others that now resided in the Pride lands

I sighed, knowing my place of solitude was no longer mine. I stood up and took one last look at the stream, its water flowing gently to the north. Then I set off back to Pride Rock, avoiding the hyenas that were heading in my direction.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Chapter 10 – The Price of Vengeance

 

 

The months that followed Mufasa’s death and Scar’s coronation were the hardest and most exhausting of my life, both physically and mentally. Scar’s reign over the kingdom was a far cry from Mufasa’s rule. Scar seemed more focused on having the title of “king” rather than dealing with the responsibilities that came with the job. Each day, he lazily lay in the cave, where now, no member of the pride except for him and Zira, were allowed to enter unless to bring him news. Together, they both barked orders to the pride that held no significance or reasoning other than to simply give orders.

Sarabi was allowed to remain the head of the hunting parties, as Scar deemed her the most capable of the lionesses, and the lionesses stayed loyal to her. Due to the hyena’s inhabitance of the Pride Lands, the herds all left far beyond the kingdom for fear of losing their lives. Sarabi decided that in order to get food from further away, we would need to break up the bigger groups into smaller ones. She appointed me as one of the hunting leaders of a newly created fourth hunting party. Some of the lionesses did not seem particularly happy about this.

Ever since I had attempted and failed to kill Scar on that fateful day, several lionesses had lost faith in me. Sarabi told me that they had hoped I would save them from the horrors to come from Scar’s rule, and they lost hope when I did not act as they expected. Two of the lionesses, Yejide and Chika, refused to even speak to me. They felt betrayed that I had so mercifully decided to spare Scar’s life. When I explained that, given the circumstances, killing him would have been wrong, they scoffed and turned their backs on me. Sarabi told me to simply ignore their reactions, but for me, it was a challenge. During my hunts with one or both of them, Yejide and Chika would criticize my hunting style, or would make snide remarks about how I might be too merciful to the prey. Every time they did this, their voices carried loud enough to scare away the prey we were hunting. After the first annoying week of this, I asked Sarabi if Yejide and Chika could be rotated through just hers and the other hunting parties. Sarabi obliged, understanding my reasoning.

The Pride Lands were suffering from Scar’s reign as well. With the combination of his lack of care for them and the release of hundreds of sadistic hyenas into the lands, they began to dramatically diminish. The grasslands were wilting and turned brown in many large patches. The trees began to lose their leaves, and the branches became dry from lack of water. The waterhole and my stream had both started to dry out. I was sure that these were signs of an imminent drought. That was the very last thing that we needed.

The sky was no longer visible, as it was constantly covered by a layer of gray clouds. This cast the Pride Lands in a regular shadow. Not once, since my arrival at the Pride Lands, had the skies released any rain. Despite the gray color of the clouds, they did not yield so much as one drop. Occasionally, the clouds would pass, but this was actually a worse situation. The sun would beat down relentlessly on everybody, and it ate away at whatever energy the pride had on those days.

The hyena’s excessive hunting brought a new smell into the lands. Countless animal carcasses and bones littered the lands wherever you gazed. The new smell of rotting flesh and bone was a horrid aroma, and it made it truly difficult to breathe for a while without having a sensation of vomit rising in my throat.

I had given up on going to the stream for my morning routine. Even if the hyenas had not taken it for themselves, I would not have returned because of its constant reduction. Each day, I felt filthier and filthier as my skin became coated with thin layers of dirt and sweat. My clothes became dirtier and more ripped, but thankfully they remained intact. I changed them each day to ensure that they would remain as clean and as whole as they possibly could. Due to my filthy state, I sorely regretted the decision, but knew I had no other choice. I would not dare contaminate what drinking water we had left by bathing and washing my clothes in it.

            Several weeks before Scar ascended to the throne, I found a day planner in my backpack. Apparently, my dad had placed it in there when he packed it. It had every day of our would-be vacation planned out. I had absentmindedly been keeping track of the days ever since my arrival, but now I was more than glad that I had held onto it. I made marks with dirt and mud in the days that had passed, and counted down to some days that held no particular significance now. My birthday came to pass within seven months of Scar’s coronation. I turned seventeen years old then. Before the tragedy that led to Scar’s kingship, I had pictured that day to be a day of joy and happiness, surrounded by my family and pride. The day went unnoticed by all, except for Sarabi, Sarafina, and Nala. It was a pitifully small celebration, but I was thankful. At least I still had the three of them in these times of hardship.

            About eight months into Scar’s

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