journey, I began to lose myself in my thoughts. A twinge of worry would occasionally become present in my consciousness. However, I was constantly reminding myself of why we were doing this. That reason, and that reason alone, was keeping my fear at bay. Yet, something even more worrisome became present and far more demanding in my mind.

What if Simba ended up like Sekou? Scar was certainly more than capable of repeating his previous acts, and he would certainly not willingly give up his kingship. I had finally got my brother back, and Scar was sure to attempt to kill him upon his return. And if Simba failed, then I would be alone and defenseless…

Sarabi would still be on your side…

As this thought entered my mind, another worry overtook my first one.

Had Sarabi given birth to her cub yet? If so, where was it now? Would she have been successful in hiding it, or would Scar have taken it already?

These and more questions troubled me for some time, and all worries of our impendi"MARGIN: 0in 0in 0pt; TEXT-INDENT: 0.5in; TEXT-ALIGN: justify">I climbed on his back, and he took off. Together, we rode swiftly into the desert.

As we rode on, a fear of impending failure began to build inside of me, but I stamped it out. Fear would not help the situation. We were going to do something that would benefit the Pride Lands for years to come. That was nothing to fear.

Together, we rode through the desert. Simba did not stop for any reason, and his pace never slowed. His determination was mine. We were going to retake back what was rightfully ours.

We were going home.

 

 

 

Chapter 14 – Simba’s Revelation

 

 

The journey back to the Pride Lands went by rather quickly. We did not stop for any reason. Though his breathing grew heavy after a few hours, Simba did not slow his pace at all. If anything, he actually picked up his speed. It amazed me that such a small cub had grown into this powerful young lion.

All day we traversed across the sweltering desert. All a while, the gray sky of the Pride Lands had swam into sight in the distance ahead of us. Part of me knew that Simba, determined and ready as he was, needed to see his devastated home with his own eyes before understanding the full magnitude of the situation. 

A few hours into the journey, I began to lose myself in my thoughts. A twinge of worry would occasionally become present in my consciousness. However, I was constantly reminding myself of why we were doing this. That reason, and that reason alone, was keeping my fear at bay. Yet, something even more worrisome became present and far more demanding in my mind.

What if Simba ended up like Sekou? Scar was certainly more than capable of repeating his previous acts, and he would certainly not willingly give up his kingship. I had finally got my brother back, and Scar was sure to attempt to kill him upon his return. And if Simba failed, then I would be alone and defenseless…

Sarabi would still be on your side…

As this thought entered my mind, another worry overtook my first one.

ng task were temporarily pushed from my mind.

Simba, sensing my worry (though I knew he didn’t know about what) started talking to break the silence. It was soothing to have something to fill the silence. He told me of his life in the jungle. Apparently, the meerkat and warthog, Timon and Pumbaa, had found Simba only a day or two after the stampede, barely alive in this desert. They saved him and kept him with them. He grew up with a “worry free” lifestyle. He was raised by Timon and Pumbaa on a diet of bugs, though Simba admitted that as he got older, he occasionally ventured out of the jungle to do some hunting.

Only yesterday, Nala had come to the jungle looking for food and help. She and Simba rekindled their friendship, but soon afterwards had an argument. Nala wanted him to return to the Pride Lands and take his place as king, but Simba said that he could not. He still would not tell me the reasons why, and I did not want to push the issue. He told me about the vision he saw of our father, and I told him that was where I came in.

By the time Simba had finished his story, we had reached the border of the Pride Lands. He slowed to a stop and sat down to catch his breath. I slid off of his back and straightened myself up as I stared around.

Not much had changed, but then again I was only gone for just over three days. The ground was as dry as ever, and bones littered it occasionally. Dead weeds and grass occasionally poked through it. Above, gray clouds hovered and yet they did not yield the rain that was so clearly stored in them. Even with their cover, the lands were still sweltering hot.

I looked over at Simba who had regained his breath. He was on his feet again and was staring around. His eyes were filled with horror at what had become of our home and his mouth hung agape in a silent gasp. An overwhelming pity for him grew inside of my heart. He began to walk forward, slowly turning his head to take in the entire view. Silently, I walked by his side.

We reached a ledge that overlooked a grand portion of the Pride Lands and stopped at the edge of it. Below us was a ravine that used to be the river that flowed between my stream and the waterhole and beyond. Now, a dry and barren riverbed was the only remnants that water ever used to flow here. To the southwest loomed the dark shape that was Pride Rock.

I glanced at Simba, whose face was slowly turning back and forth staring at this wasteland he once called home. His mouth was still hanging open. Then his eyes rested on Pride Rock.

His brow contracted and an angry look became etched into his face. I looked away, a sort of satisfaction becoming present inside of me. Now he understood the full magnitude of the situation.

Now he was more than ready to take on Scar.

A voice rang out behind us that slightly startled me.

“Simba! Ayden! Wait up!”

I looked around, and saw Nala running towards us. Both Simba and I stared at her, surprised that she had shown up out of nowhere.

She stopped in between us and looked up at Simba.

“It’s awful isn’t it?” she said solemnly.

Simba looked back out to the shadow land.

“I didn’t want to believe you.” He sighed.

“What made you come back?” Nala asked, glancing over at me. I could see the question in her eyes. I shook my head, signifying that Simba’s return was not my doing.

Simba smiled and looked back at Nala. “I finally got some sense knocked into me, and I’ve got the bump to prove it.”

I smiled at this. He was still the same fun cub I knew, just older. Again, Simba’s face went stern.

“Besides, this is my kingdom…” he glanced at me briefly. “…Our kingdom.”

I grinned as Nala stared at me for a moment.

“What?” she asked, confused.

Simba smiled at her. “As far as I am concerned, Ayden is just as much of a king as I am. We are brothers, and we will share equal power and responsibility. My father and Scar hated each other the older they got, all because one carried more power than the other. I won’t make that same mistake. So Ayden will be king as well.”

Nala looked back at me, and smiled. “A very wise and responsible decision indeed. Your father would have been proud,” She said.

Simba looked back out to Pride Rock, a small smile curling his mouth. “Like I said, this is our kingdom. If we don’t fight for it, who will?”

Nala moved closer to Simba and said almost in a whisper, “I will.”

He looked back at Nala. Happily, yet warningly, he said to her, “It’s gonna be dangerous…”

Nala perked up her ears and smiled. “Danger? Ha! I laugh in the face of danger!” she said, mock-laughing. Clearly, I was missing something. I made a point to ask them what was up.

From behind us came a voice I did not recognize.

“I see nothing funny about this!”

I swung around, my hand diving into my pocket for my knife. I brought it out, unswitched, and looked around for our visitor. A reddish-brown warthog and a small meerkat were standing several feet away. The meerkat had his hands on his hips, a smug look on his face.

Simba looked down at them. “Timon! Pumbaa! What are you doing here?”

I put my knife away. Apparently, these were Simba’s friends he had spoken of. They were nothing to fear.

The warthog, called Pumbaa, moved forward and sank into a low bow. He spoke in a scratchy, yet deep voice. “At your service, my liege.”

Timon the meerkLIGN: justify">“I didn’t want to believe you.” He sighed.

“What made you come back?” Nala asked, glancing over at me. I could see the question in her eyes. I shook my head, signifying that Simba’s return was not my doing.

Simba smiled and looked back at Nala. “I finally got some sense knocked into me, and I’ve got the bump to prove it.”

I smiled at this. He was still the same fun cub I knew, just older. Again, Simba’s face went stern.

“Besides, this is my kingdom…” he glanced at me briefly. “…Our kingdom.”

I grinned as Nala stared at me for a moment.

“What?” she asked, confused.

Simba smiled at her. “As far as I am concerned, Ayden is just as much of a king as I am. We are brothers, and we will share equal power and responsibility. My father and Scar hated each other the older they got, all because one carried more power than the other. I won’t make that same mistake. So Ayden will be king as well.”

Nala looked back at me, and smiled. “A very wise and responsible decision indeed. Your father would have been proud,” She said.

Simba looked back out to Pride Rock, a small smile curling his mouth. “Like I said, this is our kingdom. If we don’t fight for it, who will?”

Nala moved closer to Simba and said almost in a whisper, “I will.”

He looked back at Nala. Happily, yet warningly,

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