DISCLAIMER: I did not write this story. It was written by D. Ritchie

While searching through my files on my computer I found this story that I read when I was 12. When I tried to find it online again I discovered that it was not avialable anymore. The site that had hosted it was old and not supported anymore. It was already hard enough to find online years ago. And the thought of me possibly having the only evedence of this amazing stories existance, and also that if I were to delete or lose this file that the story would dissapear from the univerese scared me to the core. Unsuprisingly I have not managed to find the author yet as this is a old story from 1996, back in the old Lion King fanfic days.

I am happy that I have been given a chance to save this story from extinction and share it with the world so that it will survive, remembered, inspire, enjoyed by the world. To make this story as much read as possible, I wil be splitting it up into 4 chapters. I will release it on this day, the 4th of august. The next chapter will be avialable on the 6th of august, and the 3rd will be avialable on the 10th of will have to keep a eye out for the anouncement of the fourth chapter. :)

If Any of you ever heard about the story or the author, then please leave a comment. Or leave a comment anyways to share with others what you think about this story!

I apologise about the layout that it is in on , but I do not know how to fix it, If I do, I will correct it.

Anyways, Enough talking, right. :) I give you The Guardian Prophecy,(Chapter One) by the amazing person, D. Ritchie.

Legal Stuff

If ever there was a company that didn't need to worry about people stealing

its stuff, it would be Disney (or is that DisneyÔ?) It seems, though, that

people have been getting the iron boot from Eisner and Co. out in sunny

Cali in return for their efforts to give back what they've gleaned from a

timeless and classic story, so I guess it's only proper (and safer) to add

a disclaimer to the work. So…

Dear Mike,

I am hereby acknowledging myself and informing all others who handle this

document that The Lion King production is copyright Walt Disney Co. All

characters, script lines, lyrics, musical scores, and story concepts from

The Lion King and subsequent affiliated publications are property of the

Walt Disney Co. I sincerely hope the best for you and your company now that

you are firmly entrenched as dictator… er, CEO, and I hope your reign is

fruitful. My nephew says he loves the sweater you wear on Magical World as

it detracts from your glowering red eyes and pointy horns. My best to the

fam.

Hugs and Kisses,

D. Ritchie

My apologies for the cynicism, but I abhor legalities. I find it irritating

that Disney feels threatened by the very people who make it successful –

the diehard fans. On a lighter note, I'd like to mention that all

references to non-licensed, non-published (fan-fiction, in English) works

are addressed in the section below entitled "Where Credit is Due."

Where Credit is Due

It would be arrogant (not to mention inaccurate) to say that I was alone in

my efforts to produce The Guardian Prophesy. I wasn't. This work is the

result of inspiration garnered from an inordinate amount of Fan Fiction.

I'd like to take a moment to list just some of the works that offered

helpful insight into Prophesy.

The Visitor, by Gil Ruiz (who also edited Prophesy. Thanks-a-truck-load

Gil!)

Stranger in the Pride Lands, by Frank Calabraro.

Acceptance, by Jason Ahrens.

The Tales of Tanabi, by Joshua Templin.

The Lion Rogue, by Sam Simpson.

A Matter of Pride, by Christine Morgan.

There are many more, but I don't have a complete list of works, so I won't

continue. Let it simply be known that all of these works and the remaining

unlisted works contributed in some way, shape, or form to the development

of Prophesy.

Oh, and how could I forget?

The Chronicles of the Pridelands, by John Burkitt and David Morris

Wow, you two. Chronicles rocked, and that's all there is to it. My advise

to anyone who loves The Lion King is to go to your local libraries and

check out these books. If for some reason you can't find them there (I

can't imagine why you wouldn't be able to, though) you can go to The

Largest of All Text Archives concerning TLK at Ryan's Lion,

. /~MCGINNR/LIONKING and find them there.

About the Author

Wow. What do you say after finishing something like this other than 'Wow?'

I've written a lot of papers, but I don't think I've ever done something as

lengthy as Prophesy. Let me confess. I'm something of a fan. I don't

collect toys or dolls or cards, but I do think that The Lion King is

certainly the best work that's ever come out of Disney, probably the best

animated feature in the history of the world, and perhaps one of the

greatest stories ever told. My congrats to Walt and the Gang for this fine

piece of work. (Incidentally, I thought you guys should have gotten the

Academy Award for best movie in '94, but then the Gump boys would have gone

ballistic, right? Then imagine the Disabilities Lobbyists and... I shudder

to think about it.) Prophesy is the result of a request of sorts. Reading

through the fiction provided by all of the fans of The Lion King, I found

that one story addressed the notion of a human in the Pridelands. The story

description indicated that it lacked sophistication. On reading it, I found

myself wanting the human (Chad) to be deeper. I wanted him , in the words

of Tim Rice, to "Find his place on the path unwinding in the Circle of

Life." The idea was too juicy to let go, and so I set out to write my own

story, something I'd promised myself I wouldn't do when I started reading

this stuff. I didn't want to use Chad, though, so I got some wood out of

the garage and built my own character.

As far as style, I don't like James-Joyce-depth writing, so I avoided

really obscure symbolism and references to the aesthetics of life. If you

find any such references, please, for the love of God, email me at

ritchie so that I can take them out and replace them with something

more palatable.

Comments are entirely welcome, of course. You've got the address. Enough

about me, though. You didn't download this file to read about me, and so,

without further hesitation (aside from the other half of this page, which

I've opted not to fill for you the reader's benefit), I give you The

Guardian Prophesy. I hope you'll enjoy reading it as much as I've enjoyed

writing it.

D. Ritchie - 10/10/96

The Guardian Prophesy

If we refuse to accept that anything is possible, then we

surrender our dreams and submit to convention, and nothing is

less remarkable than convention.

Fate must be mad. There was no other explanation. It wasn't the way that

Chicago's traffic lights always seemed to turn red when he was already an

hour late that told him so. It wasn't even the random incidents of people

meeting on obscure, rain-soaked street corners and falling in love that

made it that way. It wasn't necessarily the disease or the starvation that

plagued entire races to extinction. In the mind of one man who stood apart

from all others in more ways than one, it was that damned name. Who in

their right mind would name a child Palafox Aegisthus Sears?

At seven years old, he stopped trying to explain it and started trying to

analyze it. At eight, he stopped trying to analyze it and began to ignore

it. At ten, he realized he couldn't ignore it and started trying to analyze

it again. It had to mean something, he knew. Something beyond the fact that

his parents were a little tipsy when they'd made a decision that would

result in more than a few hard years for him in various public schools. A

name like that meant something, but exactly what had eluded him all of his

life. When the time came – if the time came – he was sure a monolithic

revelation would present itself to him, and so that was all the thought

he'd given the matter… that is, until a monolithic revelation unexpectedly

presented itself to him…

Fox glanced down at his rugged wilder-woodsman Rolex. It was time to be

getting back, he decided. He brought the yoke of the Cessna Skylark around

until the digital compass read due east. He looked quickly across the dash

of his aircraft. "Altitude… your looking good," he sang. "Fuel, check. Mix

is… mixed, I guess. Oil's…" he tapped the gauge. "Good enough. Nothin' can

stop me now…" He'd been having trouble with the aircraft recently, and he

was in the process of repairing it. The real bugs get worked out in the

air, he thought to himself after failing to get the 'real' bugs worked out

on the ground. Now that everything seemed to be running smoothly, he

relished the opportunity to relax.

"Magnificent," he declared as he glanced out the side of his aircraft. The

African evening. Ever since he was a boy, he had wanted nothing more than

what he had now. The savanna unfolded below him like a colorful photograph.

The constant thrum of the single propeller relaxed him even further. He sat

back in the Skylark's austere but familiar seat and thought casually about

the last few months.

Palafox Aegisthus, or Fox Aegis – even better, just Fox, as everyone had

called him since his youth – had arrived at the Serengeti earlier in the

year as part of a behavioral science research project on the social

initiatives of the African wildlife. Those were the precise words he used

when explaining this to the local authorities. Actually, he had no

intention of doing research, and he didn't even know what a social

initiative was, nor did he care. He'd simply wanted to be there, which

unfortunately wasn't the most widely accepted grounds for being granted

permission to enter the country of Batswana. "The last refugee of

uncorrupted life," he'd deemed the enchanting land. He was only twenty and

already had no family to speak of. He'd moved away from home at 18 when the

clashes with his father drove a sizable wedge between he and his family.

His relations in Chicago were sparse and his career as a salesperson feel

considerably short of his expectations in life, so the decision to do field

work came easily to him. Out here, he could be with what he truly admired.

The trees… the grass… the life.

This was life, he'd decided in his younger years. Not only that, it was

fun, which was far more important than life. After all, if the meaning of

life wasn't to have fun and live it up, then what was? An eternity of

schooling and college had brought him a great deal of knowledge and

experience, but the human, he was convinced, was the most pampered and

undeserving creature on the planet. The 'Rat Race' of getting a career in

order, settling down and having two cars and two-point-four kids didn't

appeal to him. Where's the life in that? he wondered. Where was the fun in

that? Spend your days working for a major corporation to build seemingly

useless thingamajigs to sell to an unsuspecting but waiting and wanting

public, and then go home at night to watch hours of programming in which

you yourself are sold seemingly useless thingamajigs. How conventional.

Out here, though, he could take life for what it was worth – grab it by the

lapels and stare it straight in the eye. With fascination he watched it

happening beneath him. The whole cycle was spinning endlessly below him.

The creatures were hunting for their food and caring for their young. One

day, their young would hunt for their own food and care for their own

young. No forty hour work weeks… no mortgage payments… no menial hassles

that plagued the human condition. Life was day to day, the way it was meant

to be lived. "Yes," he said with determination. "This is the place. God

lives in Africa."

He'd made his home in a village near Mehu where a humanitarian aid project

and a wildlife refuge made first-world supplies readily available. It was

perhaps the only area in Tanzania that had a well stocked and staffed

hospital, a resonable airstrip, and the sort of sundries Fox had found

convenient. Despite this, he was still living in a native-style run-down

shack, which naturally offered scarce luxury.

Excursions like this one occupied the majority of his time. It wasn't

uncommon for him to pack a week's worth of clothes and supplies and head

out into the uncharted savanna. Between such 'vacations', as he called

them, he would fly contract shipments to and from the Mehu camp, providing

him with some spare cash, and more importantly, the good graces of the Mehu

supply station crews, who were more than happy to look the other way when

Fox found himself in a monetary bind or a low fuel load. With such an ideal

setup, how could he go wrong?

Today, he was perusing the Olduvai Gorge. East of the Serengeti plains,

Olduvai was actually more fun to fly through than to look at. It presented

a unique challenge to a pilot who was too young to understand or too

restless to acknowledge the danger. He'd been paying attention to the

instruments when he realized he'd passed the gorge and was now above the

Serengeti National Park. Somewhere in the back of his mind, conscience

panged. He knew he wasn't supposed to be flying there; the Serengeti was

restricted airspace, but he decided to stick around for a while and take a

look. Secretly, he'd been desperately wanting to 'accidentally' blunder

into the Serengeti, a legitimate excuse to look around and see what there

was to see. After all, he was having mechanical trouble, wasn't he?

Glancing out the left side of his aircraft, Fox saw something unusual. A

large rock formation jutted out from a narrow plateau. It gave him the

impression of a… castle? It wasn't normal to see something like that in the

Serengeti… at least, not as far as his experience told him. Dismissing the

rock, he glanced back to his instruments. The oil pressure light was on and

flashing, a tiny crimson reminder of Murphy's Law and how it directly

applied to his life. "Damn it!" he cursed. "I just fixed you. What's wrong

now?" He tapped the gauge again, but this time, it refused to resign.

"Okay," he reasoned with the aircraft. "If you can just make it back to

Mehu, I can fix it." But the Cessna rocked with protest as the engine

temperature climbed and metal grated against metal. "Okay.. Don't panic

Fox," he spoke to himself. "We'll just put you down here and fix it on the

ground." Piloting the aircraft closer to the ground, he scouted for a clear

area.

Finally deciding on a grassy spot away from the shrubs of the savanna, he

descended. "Steady, folks," he said, his voice monotone in deep

concentration. "There we go… There we go…" Movement caught his eye, and his

head jerked left.

An animal? A cat? A lion! A big lion! Fox had always been fond of the

beasts and had a great deal of respect for these kings of the jungle, but

just the same, he never wanted to pet one or feed it treats. This one was

close enough that he could do both.

An afterthought later, he realized that his diverted attention would prove

fatal to his landing. The moment he looked away, the plane slammed into the

ground, the gear groaning in protest under the weight. The aircraft spun

into the ground, and the impact nearly knocked him unconscious, leaving him

scrambled but miraculously lucid. When the aircraft finally shuddered to an

abrupt halt, he kicked the door open, loosed his safety belt, grabbed his

survival bag, and raced from the plane. He silently thanked God that the

Cessna hadn't exploded on impact. Nevertheless, he wasn't taking any

chances with the wreaked Skylark. After running for what must have been a

few hundred feet, he turned back and looked at his fallen friend.

The Skylark hadn't exploded, but he knew that it had taken a severe

beating. "Damn it!" he shouted toward the craft, as if to make it feel

guilty for crashing. "What the hell am I supposed to do now?" He had no

idea where he was, and he had no idea where home was – or how far away it

was for that matter. He'd spent almost everything he'd saved from odd jobs

back in the States to lease the aircraft, and now it didn't look like he'd

be getting his deposit back. All the makings of a bad situation. "Damn!" he

said again. "Damn you," he told the tree he was standing next to. "Damn you

too," he reiterated to the grass. "And damn you to hell," he told the lion,

who gazed back unpleasantly.

Lion? His stomach fell into his feet. No more than ten feet away was the

beast that had distracted him from his landing. Fox's mind cursed at him so

extensively that, had he not been wondering whether or not he'd be dead in

a few moments, he would have certainly been offended at the language.

The lion was twice as big as he looked from the sky and a hundred times

more intimidating. "I didn't mean that, buddy," he apologized to the cat,

who glared at him with menace. "Look… Damn me!" he said quickly, pointing

to himself. "Damn me to hell! My fault," he assuaged, backing away slowly.

Mufasa looked at the stranger oddly. Damn? He wondered. Buddy? He glanced

around. There was no one else about. Surely this human had intended him to

hear what he'd said, or he wouldn't have said it? Simple logic. He expects

a response, Mufasa decided. Here's your response, human, he mused.

The lion's bass roar sent Fox stumbling backwards onto the dry savanna

grass where he collapsed. He was at eye level with the massive beast now.

"Nice kitty?" he asked weakly, his limbs growing numb with anxiety.

Ironically, between the two rational minds at work, neither of them

realized the coincidental opportunity that had been handed to them, much

less the incredible impact such a hopeless position would have on their

lives.

Kitty!? Mufasa was sincerely annoyed now... Who was this… thing? He would

have dispatched of the invader immediately if he'd had the ability, but his

condition prevented it.

His expression turned to absolute disgust as he thought of the hyenas he'd

been pursuing. He cursed mentally, furious with himself. Just minutes prior

to the human's arrival, he'd been chasing a pack away from the Pridelands.

He'd arrogantly assumed they would run to the border and not look back, as

they always had for his father. Arrogance, the wise old lion had taught

him, is a luxury that kings couldn't afford. Mufasa wished now that he'd

been a better student.

In sheer numbers, the hyenas had overpowered and wounded him. Now, he knew,

they were likely bringing their pack in for the kill. A fitting end for a

young fool like yourself! he spat in his mind. He knew that he didn't stand

a chance against the lot of them wounded. He'd get one or two, but

eventually he'd go down and that would be the end. He'd been making his

peace and waiting to die when the human had descended in the screeching

bird.

Meanwhile, Fox was paralyzed with fear. He sat frozen, his eyes locked on

the lion only fifteen feet in front of him. He's frowning at me, he

thought. I'll bet he's mad. Please don't be mad. Suddenly the forty hour

work week was looking relatively sweet.

Then he noticed something. The lion wasn't moving at all. He was scowling

and roaring… but there wasn't the slightest motion. Here he was, fresh meat

for the taking, and yet the huge cat hadn't budged an inch.

And then Fox saw the wound. He wondered immediately how he could have

missed it. The lion's foreleg was torn and bloody, revealing an unnatural

and inordinate amount of muscle. Too bad for him, too good for me, Fox

thought.

"So that's the way it is, huh?" he smirked, regaining his confidence and

his feet. He brushed himself off slowly and stared the lion down. "Not so

tough without your leg, are ya', pussy cat?" he sneered tauntingly.

Fallen or not, this was too much for Mufasa. It was bad enough that the

human was even here… Now, he was being insulted. "Why don't you come here

and see how tough I am, little one?" he replied venomously. He didn't think

the human would understand him – humans couldn't understand nature's

children – but either way he thought the gesture would seem imposing

enough.

Fox glared down at the lion, pointing authoritatively. "One more time?" he

began condescendingly. "I didn't quite catch…" The sneer fell off his face

and he paused, dumbfounded. "Whu… what'd you say?"

The lion had just… spoken to him? No… that wasn't right. He looked to the

nearby patch of trees. A more logical explanation popped into his mind.

"Okay, whoever you are," he said, wagging his finger. Local pranksters,

probably having a good laugh at an idiot tourist like himself, he decided.

"Not funny. You can come out now." No reply. Fox continued anyway. "I need

to know where the nearest city is. Y'know, I can't believe you expect

people to fall for that sort of stuff. It must be all of that fiber you—"

"—Quiet, human!" Mufasa demanded. Intriguing. The human could understand

him, or so it seemed. Normally, being able to communicate with other

animals wouldn't have surprised Mufasa, but humans were different. They

weren't Nature's children, and so they couldn't talk to Nature's creatures.

A find like this would have certainly been news if he'd had the opportunity

to take it back to his Pride, but that wasn't likely to happen now. He was

in a bad mood, and it appeared as though he was going to stay that way. He

certainly didn't need his last few moments of life polluted with an

annoying little… man.

A bewildered Fox looked back at the lion, laughing uncomfortably. "I'm not

buying this, pal. I don't know what the deal here is, but I'm not buying,

comprende?" He glanced around frantically. This wasn't happening to him! He

was young and fit – too young and too fit to be going crazy.

He'd hit his head in the crash, he decided. Yes. He'd hit his head, and he

was laying unconscious in the Skylark sleeping and dreaming…

"Are you testing me, boy?" Mufasa asked angrily. Apparently humans weren't

very intelligent creatures. He'd suspected as much.

Fox's eyes locked in on the lion again. He stared for a long moment.

"Okay," he said slowly. "Let's say – for arguments sake, nothing more –

that you are actually… you know… we're…communicating here… why haven't you

killed me yet? Hmmm? Answer me that, my feline friend." He added

emphatically. "I've seen hundreds of National Geographic Explorers, and I

know that you eat guys like me. So let's have it, huh?" Fox smiled with

satisfaction, although he had no idea why.

Mufasa knew nothing of the human's ravings, except for the part about

eating him. He understood that part quite well. "I'm wondering the same

thing myself," he muttered. With half annoyance and half indifference, his

mind wandered elsewhere, to his home and his waiting bride. He'd let her

down, he realized with a sad sigh. He thought about his father, who'd

always taught him to never stop fighting. He'd let him down as well. He

tried to move his battered leg, but the pain was too great, and he

succeeded only in wincing at the effort.

Fox saw the lion try to move. He could tell the beast was in pain. The

absurdity of the situation coupled with the rush of adrenaline Fox was

experiencing made rationality an afterthought. Right now, he felt… sorry

for the beast? If there's one thing I won't do, it's get close to the lion,

his mind shouted.

"Look," he said. "I like cats. I'm a big fan." He gestured to his emergency

bag. "I can help you," he suggested. The rational half of his mind cursed

at him again. Idiot! Don't help the lion! Stay away from the lion! The lion

is bad! The lion will kill you!

The instinctive part of his mind wasn't listening. It was very sure now

that this was all a dream, and nothing bad would happen to him in a dream,

right? He took the opportunity to be adventurous, thinking how proud of

himself he'd be when he awoke. The rational part of his mind, thoroughly

disgusted at this point, shut down and refused to be any part of it.

Mufasa eyed the human suspiciously. "You?" he asked mockingly. "You didn't

help your friend," he said, indicating the wrecked Skylark. "Or is that

what you call help?" He may have been defeated by arrogant pride, but he

still wasn't foolish enough to trust a human. Or was he?

Fox looked back at the Cessna, and then at Mufasa. "The plane?" he asked.

He thought about how things looked to the lion. "You don't understand.

That's a… Oh, just don't worry about it." He became suddenly serious. "I

can help fix your leg, but I want you to promise you're not going to eat

me, or maul me or maim me or anything that you normally do to people like

me."

Mufasa had very little to lose. He'd never trusted humans before. His

brother had been attacked by the marauders when they were younger. The curs

had beaten him with sticks and burned him with their fire. He could still

remember the tortured young Taka crawling back to Pride Rock in agony,

shrieking for mother. Images such as that one die hard in the

impressionable mind. All humans had ever brought to the Pridelands was

pain.

It was time to make a decision. He was sure this human intended to kill

him, but he was tired of waiting for his end, and there was little more

undignified that dying at the claws and jaws of hyenas. Goodbye, Sarabi, he

said to himself, remembering his betrothed. She was to become his queen

when he returned from this excursion. I'm sorry, father, he thought. I've

failed as a king. Taka would have been a better choice. His brother, he

knew, would now assume the throne. "Grant him your wisdom, father," Mufasa

sighed under his breath.

He looked back at the man standing in front of him. Get it over with! he

growled to himself. Better to be just a fool than a fool and a coward.

"Okay, human," he said, lowering his head to the ground into what another

lion would consider resignation. "Do what you will. I won't harm you."

Fox nodded. "Okay, good." He cautiously moved in closer to the lion. He

still wasn't entirely convinced that this was a dream or that he was

speaking with a cat. He imagined some young native kid hopping out from the

trees and laughing at him as the lion mauled him to bits. Open minded, he

thought. Be open minded. When he was just outside of striking distance, he

paused. Mufasa didn't move. Slowly, he inched closer.

Despite his remarkable will and strength, Mufasa couldn't force himself to

simply submit to death, and so on the outside chance that the human was

actually trying to help him, the lion began to explain. "I understand your

reservations about getting so close, but I assure you, my word is good."

Fox set his bag down and opened it, never taking his eyes off the

golden-furred beast that lay wounded in front of him. Medically, he was

poorly stocked, but he had an application of morphine and bandages. They

were intended for him if he'd ever crashed his plane and was wounded. Since

he'd already crashed his plane and hadn't been injured, he didn't mind so

much about using the morphine.

Mufasa urged him on. "There isn't much time, human. If you –"

"Fox," Fox said, pulling a morphine syringe from the bag. "Call me Fox.

Everyone else does."

"Whatever. Fox," Mufasa continued. "Any moment, there's going to be a pack

of hyenas coming to finish me off. If you intend to help me, I'd like to

suggest that you hurry."

"Right," Fox said, not paying any attention. "Now look. I'm going to stick

this needle in your paw, or leg, or whatever it is you call it. It's gonna'

hurt like hell. Don't kill me, okay?"

"I told you, human," Mufasa said evenly. "My word is good."

"And I told you. Call me Fox." He took the beast's word at face value.

"Okay," he said. "Here goes." He injected the fluid into the bloody fore

leg of the lion, right above the wound. Mufasa took a sharp breath as the

needle entered, but exhaled smoothly. "Good," Fox said, realizing he was

still alive. "Good. Very good," he said encouragingly.

Mufasa looked down at his mangled leg. He felt a tingling sensation in his

wound. "What is that?" he demanded.

Fox raised his hands in defense. "Just morphine, pal. It'll stop the pain."

As he spoke, Mufasa could feel the intense throb subsiding. It was as

though his wound had healed in moments.

He stood up.

Then he fell over.

"What kind of magic is this?" he questioned curtly. "I'm still injured."

Fox was pulling a bandage from his bag. "I said it would stop the pain. I

didn't say it was the wonder cure. You should take what you can get."

Mufasa conceded that he felt much better without the wrenching pain of the

mess of his fore leg. "What are you doing now?" he asked.

"Bandage," Fox replied. "It'll stop the bleeding." His hands worked quickly

to wrap the wound as he spoke. "If you'd rather die from blood loss that's

your choice I suppose, but I want my morphine back if that's the case."

Mufasa was beginning to understand. "Your a mage, aren't you?" he asked in

realization. "There is someone like you in my kingdom. His name is Rafiki."

Mufasa paused. He looked over the one called Fox. "He walks on two legs as

well. Perhaps you know each other?" he offered.

Fox finished the wrapping. "I had a cat once named 'Jessica'," he said

dryly. "She walked on four legs. Perhaps you know each other?"

Mufasa took the hint. "No," he said simply. "Are you finished?"

Fox looked over the bandaged leg. "That's about all I can do here," he

announced.

Mufasa stirred. "Then I can walk now?"

Fox shook his head, restraining Mufasa with his hand. "Afraid not. You'll

have to wait until the wounds begin to heal. You won't walk for a couple

days at least."

Mufasa looked at him with frustration. "We don't have days, Fox. Perhaps

you didn't hear me. Very soon, we'll be surrounded by some dozen hyenas,

and they'll kill you as quickly as they'll kill me."

"Why would they do that?" Fox asked, putting the medical materials back

into his bag.

Mufasa was obviously dealing with an outsider. "Because they're hungry.

They kill to eat." Among other reasons naturally… reasons that weren't

worth mentioning at this point. He honestly couldn't believe he had to

explain this. "You know very little of this place."

The mutual benefits of this newfound relationship were about to make

themselves evident. Fox was thinking. He had a means of protection. He

always carried a handgun when he did field work, although not for occasions

like this. It was intended for use against other humans – nothing made his

blood boil more than poachers –- but it could be used in a tight situation

for protection against the wild. "How many?" Fox asked.

"Hyenas?" Mufasa asked. "Ten. Fifteen. Maybe more," he said solemnly.

"Workable," Fox said. He carried enough ammunition to get himself out of

this bind, but very little more. He didn't like the idea of shooting up the

wild animals, but these, he thought, were desperate times. He'd also had no

experience with handguns. He'd never been an action fan and guns, in his

mind, were toys that kids in grown-up bodies played with. Still, how hard

could it be to fire a gun? "I think we'll be okay." Protection no creature

but human could provide, and just when it was needed most.

Mufasa looked at Fox incredulously. "You've done me a great service, Fox. I

wish I could repay you, but I am unable to fight. It would be best if you

leave now," he said, resigning himself once again to impending death. He

sighed again, chiding himself for his delusions of escaping this trap Fate

had laid for him. You can't fight with Fate, he thought.

Fox looked back at him and smiled. "Hey, it's not like I'm defenseless…

You've got a name, I hope?"

"Mufasa," the lion groaned as he tried to put weight on the leg again.

"Mufasa," Fox repeated. "By the way, don't do that," he said, pointing at

the leg. "Anyway, Mufasa, I'm not helpless. I might not have claws, but I

have this," he said, displaying the Beretta.

Mufasa was not impressed. "I see," he said. "You should go now."

"Ye of little faith, oh wounded one. Just wait. We'll get out of this yet."

They didn't wait long, in fact, only a matter of minutes, before the hyenas

arrived.

"Dinnertime," the pack leader announced to the group said as they moved in.

"And look," said another, indicating Fox. "Dessert. You caught a human,

Mufasa? You're making me so proud!" The sarcasm was evident, even to an

outsider like Fox.

He was already accustom to talking to Mufasa, so he didn't even flinch when

he understood the hyenas. He glared at the pack of hunters.

"Leave him be," Mufasa demanded. "I'm what you want. And…" His eyes sunk to

the ground. Even a noble king knows when to surrender. "…you've got me."

The head of the group was a female, Fox decided. "We don't take orders from

you, Mufasa. You're not our king." She moved in closer.

King? Fox wondered. He stowed the thought. He didn't like being pushed.

"Back off, bitch," he demanded, leveling the Beretta at the predator. He'd

never fired it before, and he hoped that it worked. He felt like Dirty

Harry, he thought with a smile. It felt good.

"Temper, temper," the hyena taunted, mildly surprised at having heard the

human. "I don't think you're in much of a position to argue." Fox had had

absolutely no experience with handguns, but he'd seen all the movies. The

movies, he realized, offer little useful education, though. The slight

motion forward as she spoke was enough to set him off. His hand twitched

with inexperienced apprehension and he fired a round straight into her. She

collapsed immediately, dead. Mufasa blinked as the weapon fired and his

eyes shot wildly in Fox's direction.

Fox wasn't finished. The slight recoil from the weapon had startled him,

and he'd panicked. He fired three more rounds into the group, and three

more hyenas fell dead. The remaining pack didn't know what to do or where

to go. They were dropping like flies and they had no idea why. Another two

rounds went off and another two pack members went down. Through the melee,

an unspoken but unanimous decision to retreat was somehow made. The

survivors scrambled away from the human and the wounded lion, disappearing

over the hill from which they'd approached. Neither Fox nor Mufasa spoke

for a moment.

Finally, Fox broke the silence. "See?" he said quietly. "Told ya'."

"This is strong magic, Fox," Mufasa replied slowly. "Where did you get this

power from?"

Fox held up the Beretta again. "It's this. Look here. It shoots these." He

pulled out the clip and removed a bullet. He'd used six rounds and had only

twenty left, he noted. "It fires them out the barrel here, and the little

things go right through the target." He realized that he was trying to

explain physical science to a cat. He abandoned the explanation. "Look.

It's not magic. That's really all you need to know."

Mufasa examined the Beretta for a moment. He didn't like it. Nature

protected its children well. Lions were strong, cheetahs were fast. Birds

could fly. But this human could tear through all of those natural barriers

with this… thing. Strong magic indeed. He then looked back at the human.

"Fox," he began. "You've saved my life twice today."

"Glad I could help," Fox replied, because he didn't know what else to say.

He looked around. It was getting dark. "Hey," he said to Mufasa. "Where's

home? Maybe I can get you there if it's nearby." He was astounded by how

easy it was to talk to a lion. It was like chatting with your best friend,

he realized.

Mufasa smiled. "I may have underestimated your ability to fight, but I know

that you can't carry me."

Perhaps he was right, Fox thought. No, he was right. Looking at the lion's

frame, he estimated that he weighed somewhere between 350 to 400 pounds.

"Well," he said, "then I guess we stay here tonight." He'd decided to stick

with the lion for a while. He'd never spoken with an animal before -

something that went without saying - and this was an opportunity that,

simply put, he couldn't pass up.

"You know," Fox said as the two shared meat substitute from his emergency

rations. "When I saw you for the first time, I was sure you were going to

eat me."

Mufasa was having a rough time with the rations. They were nothing like

what he was used to, and the terrible taste was almost enough for him to

decide to go hungry. "I still might," he scowled as he nibbled at the meat.

"Is this what you normally eat?" Fox chuckled as he watched the lion

grimace and swallow his petite meal.

The night set in, and the two stranded animals sat under a nearby tree and

talked. Fox examined the contents of his emergency bag during their

conversation. It was always well stocked. He knew that his supplies

wouldn't last forever, but they should carry him long enough.

Mufasa looked at him strangely. "You're unlike the humans I've

encountered," he said. "Why did you help me?"

Fox shrugged. He still didn't know what had possessed him to approach a

wounded lion. "I don't know," he finally said. "You needed it."

Mufasa cracked a smile. Very good answer, he thought. "Listen, Fox. I would

like to thank you for what you've done. I'd like you to be a guest in my

kingdom."

It was Fox's turn to smile. "Right, sure. The king of the jungle bit, huh?

Isn't this your kingdom," he asked, waving his arms around, indicating the

surrounding savanna.

"No," Mufasa replied, somewhat confused. "My kingdom is Pride Rock. Well,

it will be as soon as I return."

I'll play along, Fox thought. "Do you have a castle and a moat?" he goaded.

Again, Mufasa was confused. "No," he replied. "I'm the king. My father was

king before me, but now he's passed on." The human didn't seem to

understand at all.

Fox eyed the lion. "How many kings are there?" he asked suspiciously.

Mufasa replied. "Just me. Why? Do I need a moat to be a king, Fox?"

This was interesting to Fox. This wasn't just any beast he'd found. If he

was this Lion King that he spoke of, then he was probably very unique

indeed. "I'm not quite sure I understand," Fox said.

"What's there to understand?" Mufasa asked, smiling. "This land you see is

my territory. The animals who live here are my subjects." He paused. "Are

there no kings where you come from, Fox?"

"Hmmm?" Fox was looking around. "No… no… But I've heard of them," he said.

Mufasa was serious, he realized. This lion he'd just saved from certain

death was the monarch of all of the Serengeti – the 'Pridelands', Mufasa

had called it. "What about that bird?" he inquired, pointing to a nest in

the tree high above them. "Is he your subject?"

"Yes, of course," Mufasa replied, not sure what the human was getting at.

"And he'd do whatever you asked him to?" Fox replied.

"I suppose so… Yes, he would. Why do you ask?"

Amazing, the human thought. "No reason." Having no where else to go coupled

with an overwhelming curiosity to learn more about Mufasa led Fox to a

quick decision. "Hey, I'd love to be your guest," he said. As a kid, he'd

gaped at pictures of these marvelous cats, but he'd known instinctively

that photos were as close as he could safely get to them. Now, though, he

would make fast friends with the lion community here in the Serengeti.

Mufasa would see to that.

He'd slept that night fully expecting to awaken somewhere else in another

time to discover that this had been a dream. When he woke up the next

morning, though, there was Mufasa sleeping comfortably a couple feet away.

"Wild," he muttered to himself.

There was little for the two to do in the next two days while Mufasa

regained his strength. They were both happy to see that the hyenas had no

intention of returning. Fox spent the first day looking over his wounded

aircraft. Mufasa had hobbled over to him while he was examining it.

"A large bird?" he asked, nodding to the Cessna.

Not anymore, Fox thought to himself. "No, Mufasa. It's not a bird. It's a

machine. We build them so that we can fly."

"It doesn't… fly very well." Mufasa pointed out. "It falls nicely, though."

A conciliatory remark that Mufasa realized offered little comfort.

Fox looked back at him. He was right. It did fall, and hard. The gear was

mangled horribly, and the engine was still leaking oil somewhere. He

covered the aircraft with its tan tarpaulin after retrieving what he

thought he needed from the interior: clothing, a blanket and a hygiene kit.

He wasn't very worried about anyone stealing the aircraft. Potential

thieves would have to find out how to repair the landing gear. "If they can

do that," he muttered to himself, "then they can have it."

Mufasa and Fox talked at great length about their pasts. They talked at

great length about Fate. Mufasa explained that Fate had been kind enough to

make him king and it had been cruel enough to have nearly killed him the

day before.

"It's crazy," Fox replied contemplatively. Mufasa looked at him

questioningly.

"Fate," he explained, looking up at the lion. "Absolutely mad." Mufasa's

brow clouded.

"That's an interesting way of looking at it," he mused. "Of course, I can't

say how Fate would feel about that remark."

"If you could see the things that I've seen, you'd agree with me," Fox

informed Mufasa as he relaxed against the tree. "And besides, I'm not

worried about what Fate thinks." After a short pause, Mufasa's glance

prompted Fox to continue. "You know… I've always felt like I was one up on

it. I felt like I could… y'know, take it on. Beat it at its own game."

Mufasa smiled with amusement. "Fate? Don't you think that's a little

presumptuous?" he asked. "It's not a good bet to make and lose."

Fox nodded. "Yeah, but things always seems to turn out my way." He searched

for a convenient example. "Like when my plane crashed yesterday. Do you

know what the chances of me crashing and living are?"

Mufasa simply shook his head, assuming that the chances were probably very

low.

"Real bad. The way I see it," he said, pointing up at the sky, "either

someone up there's got a crush on me or I'm the luckiest guy in the world.

Either way, things always seem to work out for the better for me." Fox had

never voiced how he felt so clearly as he'd just done. It had taken a

conversation with this lion – a lion! - for him to understand his own

philosophy. He did feel invincible to Fate. It was a like a high. He felt…

immortal, almost. If he never had anything else in his life, he had that.

He could beat Fate.

Mufasa wondered if perhaps Fox was a charmed creature. There was something…

unusual about him that he couldn't place. It reminded him of something, but

he wasn't sure what. He stowed the thought for another time and the two

continued their conversation while Mufasa recovered.

It was early in the day, but Sarabi had already been waiting too long.

"Sarafina, where is he?" she asked worriedly. She paced back and forth on

the plains below the Rock.

"You should relax," Sarafina replied with mock annoyance as she basked in

the sun's warm rays. "He'll be back. What he's doing is important, Sarabi."

"I know it's important," she said, frustrated. "But he's been gone too

long. He should have been back days ago!" Sarabi had been waiting for

Mufasa since he'd left nearly four days ago. They were going to be wed, but

duty called, and a pack of rogue hyenas had needed his immediate attention.

"As soon as I return, Sarabi," he'd said, "We will be married." Sarabi had

been attached to Mufasa since they were cubs, and she'd been betrothed to

him nearly two years ago. She'd thought that was the most miraculous day of

her life. She'd only realized recently that the most miraculous day was yet

to come. It was time for her to take a mate. She could feel the changes in

her body as she moved from an adolescent cub to an adult lioness. She was

in season, and the wait for Mufasa to return was agonizing.

Sarafina knew what Sarabi was going through. She too could feel the

changes, but she was younger than Sarabi, and she was not yet to the same

point of maturity. She would be soon, though, she knew, and Mufasa, as

king, would be responsible for tending all of the lionesses – an exhausting

task. And Oh, how she wanted a cub… a daughter, gods willing!

Fortunately for the new king, Ahadi had attended to almost all of the

lionesses shortly before his death, and Sarabi and Sarafina were the last

in line, so Mufasa would not be taxed to care for them.

It was fortunate for Sarabi as well. She didn't like the idea of sharing

Mufasa with the pride. She loved the lionesses, but Mufasa was uniquely

hers. She wanted him all to herself. She didn't mind so much that he would

be responsible for Sarafina's cubs because the two were so close, but she

was glad that that would be the extent of his efforts. "This is too much,"

she said, flopping onto the ground. "Where is he?" she complained again.

Sarafina smiled. It was so bizarre for her to see Sarabi like this. She

remembered back to when they were cubs. The two girls, at the time, were

thoroughly unimpressed with boys. "They're so goofy," Sarabi had said to

her. "They don't take anything seriously." She'd been referring to Mufasa,

who'd always been in the habit of making trouble. She recalled the time the

young prince had tried to scare off a pack of loitering hyenas, just as he

was doing now. He was so much littler then, though. Mufasa had been

convinced that the scavengers would run when they saw him - a lion and a

prince! Instead, he'd found himself being chased into the canyon, where he

cowered in a crevice for hours. Through careful inquisition, Sarabi and

Sarafina had both found out what had happened, but Mufasa had made them

promise not to tell anyone.

With her cub-like capacity for secrets, Sarafina had told Ahadi, the king

and Mufasa's father, about the incident before the day was out, and the

young prince had received a thrashing for it. Sarabi, on the other hand,

would have never told. She was convinced that Mufasa was the bravest,

noblest lion in the world – braver than even Ahadi.

Now, Sarafina thought, they were to be mates. "It's funny how things

change, Sarabi," she said pensively.

Sarabi glanced up at her, not understanding. "Hmmm?"

Sarafina shook off her contemplative mood and turned to her friend. "I was

just thinking about how Mufasa tried to chase out those hyenas when we were

younger," she laughed.

The recollection brought a smile to Sarabi's face. "And you told on him,

too! He got it bad for that."

"Yeah," Sarafina smiled. "I wonder if he ever found out which one of us

told," she mused.

He had, Sarabi knew. She'd told him later that it was Sarafina, but she'd

never mentioned this to her female friend. "Maybe we'll ask him when he

gets back," she said. "If he gets back," she added with frustration.

"Sarafina, where is he?"

Had the waiting lioness known how close Mufasa was, she would have been

surprised indeed. The lion had managed to get up on his feet in just a day

and a half. The king and his human friend had been walking through the

Pridelands for most of the day, and now they were minutes away from the

Rock. Fox realized that this was the same Rock he'd seen from the air two

days ago. Things are so much smaller from up there, he thought as he took

in the giant plateau. "So this is your home?" Fox asked.

"Yes," Mufasa replied. "This is Pride Rock," he said, indicating the giant

formation ahead. "It's my kingdom."

For a moment, Fox was beyond words. This was what he had come to the plains

for. He'd thought he had what he'd wanted when he'd watched the savanna fly

beneath him from his Cessna like a giant magazine photograph. But it had

been just that – a photograph. Now, he was here. He was in the picture,

looking out, and it was so much more beautiful on the inside.

"Why is it that I can talk to you?" he asked Mufasa, switching tracks. He'd

avoided the question until now because he wasn't sure he'd wanted to know.

"I mean, I don't normally talk to cats or dogs or mice or anything."

Mufasa too was puzzled. "I don't know," he replied honestly. "I've never

heard of animals talking to humans. Personally, I thought that they just

weren't intelligent enough to communicate," Mufasa said. Fox winced

slightly and Mufasa realized his mistake. "I realize your are, though," he

added tactfully.

"Thanks," Fox replied, not sure whether to take it as a compliment.

Mufasa had thought about the human frequently in the last few days. It was

as though he'd descended from the sky solely to rescue him. There had been

a story he'd once heard that Fox had reminded him of. As a cub, he'd begged

his father for stories about the Kings of the past and the legends of the

Pridelands. He'd eaten them up, and every night for a long time, before he

would even consider going to sleep, his father had to tell him such a tale…

"It's time!" Mufasa cried to his father. "It's time!"

Ahadi looked down at his son and smiled. "What time is it, Mufasa?" he'd

asked, just as he did every night. Mufasa frowned at him in response, just

as he did every night.

"You know!" he demanded. The cub capered to the entrance of the cave.

"Taka!" he called out. "Come on! It's time!"

Taka, Mufasa's younger brother, was playing below the Rock in the plains

with Sarabi and Sarafina, two of the young lioness cubs at Pride Rock.

"I've gotta' go," he apologized suddenly. Taka, too, loved to hear his

father's stories of the past, and he wouldn't miss them no matter what he

was busy doing.

"Come on!" Sarabi complained. "It isn't that late! You can stay a little

while longer, can't you?" The four cubs spent almost all of their time

together, and they had come to be close friends.

"Nope," Taka said decisively. "Sorry. I've gotta' go," he said, turning

toward the Rock's incline.

"Yeah, Sarabi," Sarafina mocked. "He's gotta' go hear stupid stories." She

didn't really think they were stupid, but she was mad at him for leaving so

early.

Taka whirled around angrily. "They are not stupid!" he shouted. "Dad's

stories are the greatest!" He was telling the truth, too. Every story

father had to tell was captivating. "You just don't know cause you never

get to hear any," he pouted. "Girls are so dumb sometimes." He turned back

to head up the incline.

Sarabi wasn't tired, and she knew that if she went back to the cave, she'd

have to go to bed. Ahadi always let Mufasa and Taka stay up later. She had

an idea, though. "Maybe he'll let us hear his story too!" she called after

Taka, who was bounding up toward the Rock.

"Maybe!" he shouted back, barely stopping on his way. "Come on! Hurry!"

The two females followed Taka up to the cave. The three bounced into the

cave. Taka saw that Mufasa was already curling up next to Ahadi in his

usual story-time position. "Dad?" Taka asked his father. "Sarabi wants to

hear the story too. Is it all right?"

Ahadi glanced down at his son and smiled softly. He'd had always assumed

that Sarabi was uninterested in the legends, but he certainly took no

objection. "Of course, Sarabi," he replied kindly.

Bravely, Sarabi spoke up next. "What about Sarafina?" she asked, stepping

aside to reveal the cub to her father. The shy cub shivered under the gaze

of the massive king. Sarafina wasn't Ahadi's child. She'd been found

wandering orphaned near the Pridelands months ago. Normally, a king's duty

would be to kill such stragglers, but Ahadi thought that such practice was

barbaric. Surprisingly, he was somewhat of a rebel as far as kings went,

departing from some of the traditional methods of ruling. He'd always

taught his cubs to respect life above all else, and he was not about to

break his own rule because of tradition. He'd arranged for the cub to be

'adopted' into the Pride, and she'd come to normal sleep with the lionesses

in their cave.

"Your welcome here anytime, Sarafina," he said smiling. Sarafina let out a

sigh of relief and made herself comfortable next to Sarabi.

"What's the story about tonight?" Mufasa begged eagerly.

"Hyenas?" ventured a hopeful Taka, who always liked hearing about hyenas

getting ripped up.

"Magic?" asked Sarabi.

Ahadi turned on the story telling charm that entranced his cubs every

night. "No," he announced. "Tonight, I'll tell you about the Guardian

Prophesy."

An awed silence fell over the cave.

"The what?" Mufasa asked, blinking. He'd never heard of that before, but he

thought it sounded neat. He thought everything his dad said was neat.

Even having never heard it mentioned before, the young cubs were already

enchanted. The four of them gazed at the father, their eyes growing wide.

"When I was young, my father told me of an ancient legend – the Guardian

Prophesy." He looked down at the cubs. He usually had to make up stories

for them, as they wanted a new one every night, and he'd run out of things

to tell them a long time ago. Earlier today, though, he'd remembered this

story that his father had told him while talking with Rafiki, and he

decided that tonight he would pass the legend on. "My father told me long

ago about a promise made to us by the gods. They sent a gift from the

heavens – a Guardian who would watch over our cubs and keep us safe."

Taka had rolled onto his back, his attention full at his father as he began

to purr. "Wow," he whispered. The other cubs marveled at the notion as

well.

"The Guardian fought to protect us from the evil spirits. They say that

once, he fought the sun when it tried to descend to the Pridelands," Ahadi

continued. "With all of his might, the Guardian captured the sun and threw

it back into the sky."

The enthralled cubs were speechless with amazement.

"But…!" Ahadi, snapped suddenly. The cubs jumped in startled anticipation.

"But what?" Sarabi begged.

"But," he repeated. "Soon the sun became jealous of the Guardian and grew

bitter. The sun stole the Guardian from the plains and imprisoned him,

where he still waits today to be released by a brave young cub who is

willing to fight the sun for his freedom." Ahadi took a deep breath as he

finished the legend. He hadn't realized how ludicrous the story sounded

when he was younger, but as he retold it, he wondered how his father had

ever gotten him to believe such nonsense. Observing the cubs, he quickly

remembered precisely how.

"That's so cool!" Mufasa cried. "I'll fight the sun and save the Guardian!"

he announced proudly.

"No," Taka screeched. "I'll do it. I'm not afraid of the stupid sun!"

Ahadi laughed to himself silently. He loved to see that spirit in his cubs.

He looked over all of them, even Sarafina. He was a proud father.

Taka had been contemplating the Guardian. "I'll bet he's a great big lion

like you, huh dad?" he pointed out.

Ahadi paused for a moment, recalling what his father had said when he'd

asked that same question. "No, son," he explained. "The Guardian isn't a

lion like me. Legends say he was disguised by the heavens so that the sun

wouldn't be able to recognize him."

"But then how did the sun recognize him?" Taka asked innocently.

A very good question, Ahadi thought. "I suppose it didn't work," he replied

after a moment's thought. As good an answer as any.

"Well, what did he look like?" Sarafina asked.

"No one knows, Sarafina," Ahadi replied with a grin. "No one has seen him

since his capture. But it is prophesied that one day, when he escapes from

the sun, he will return to watch over our cubs and protect them."

"Well," Mufasa said with sudden concern. "Who watches over us now?"

Ahadi's deep laugh echoed through the cave. "I do," he said. "And Zazu

does." Zazu was a recent addition to the regime. The young blue hornbill

was given the task of caring for the cubs and keeping them out of trouble.

A steward. A majordomo, if you will.

"Zazu?" Taka repeated, his face twisted with confusion. "But he's just a

bird."

"The Guardian can come in any form," Ahadi explained. "His strength doesn't

come from might. It comes from the gods, and the gods can do anything. Even

the smallest bird can defeat the most powerful lion with the help of the

gods. Remember that." The sun had disappeared entirely, he'd noticed. "You

cubs need to sleep now," he said finally. Obediently, Sarafina exited the

cave and headed for the lioness' den. Sarabi curled up with her mother and

was fast asleep. Taka and Mufasa went to their corner of the cave.

"Wow," Mufasa said. "That's so cool!"

"Yeah," Taka said. "Maybe we can fight the sun and help the Guardian," he

offered. "That would be real cool!"

As father's have a knack for doing, Ahadi overheard the ambitious pair. "Go

to sleep," he said softly but firmly. The two cubs who'd been huddled

together were startled by their father's voice. They both laid down

silently and thought about the Guardian. Maybe one day, Mufasa thought,

I'll be able to rescue the Guardian.

The story moved to the back of Mufasa's mind. It was just that, he thought.

A story. Fight the sun? he mused. He'd wanted so badly to fight the sun

when he was a cub. He'd wanted to be the one who'd rescued the Guardian. He

smiled inwardly at his cub-like naiveté. He wasn't embarrassed, though. He

wouldn't have traded his young ambitions for anything in the world. That

spirit was part of who he had become, and he was proud of who he had

become.

Fox had noticed that Mufasa was falling into a contemplative mood. He left

the lion alone to think while they walked. He, too, wanted a chance to mull

over what had happened in the last two days. Let's see, he thought. I

wrecked my plane. I have no idea where I am or where I'm going. I'm talking

to a lion and I'm shooting at hyenas. He could never had in his most

bizarre imaginations come up with a scenario like this one. Still, he was

interested in seeing where it would lead. He had very little incentive to

return to the city, especially since he'd been flying the aircraft without

insurance, an expensive commodity that didn't fit his nickel and dime

budget. He wondered what the chances of laying low out here for a while

were. He looked back at Mufasa; the lion was deep in thought. That query

could wait until later, he decided.

Ahead, Fox saw the base of the Rock. Out in front of it was a pair of

lionesses? He'd assumed that they were lionesses because they had no manes.

I hope they like company, he thought.

Sarabi was laying on her back under the warm sun when motion caught her

eye. Every time she saw movement on the horizon, she snapped hopefully to

her feet to see what was out there. Repeatedly she'd been disappointed by a

herd of zebra or some young cubs playing in the plains. This time, though,

she saw a lion. A big, male lion. "Mufasa!" she shouted. "Sarafina, look!

It's Mufasa." There was something else though. It was…

"A human?" Sarafina mouthed with profound disbelief. She looked at Sarabi,

who returned her confused expression. What was a human doing in the

Pridelands? What was he doing so close to Mufasa? She jumped to her feet

and shot out toward the pair.

"Sarabi," Sarafina called out. "Wait!" She rose from her rock and followed

the lioness out to the plains.

"Look, Mufasa," Fox said, finally breaking the lion's concentration. "A

welcoming party. I guess you are well liked around here." An

understatement, Mufasa thought, but he let it go. He was about to reply

when realization set it.

Mufasa looked up and saw Sarabi running madly at him. At him? No, he

thought. At the human? "Behind me, Fox! Quickly!" The lioness was closing

so rapidly that there was little time.

As she hurtled toward the pair, Sarabi saw Mufasa's limp, and realizing he

was wounded, she immediately drew conclusions. She bore down on the human,

charging as quickly as she could, determined to protect the wounded King.

"Behind you?" Fox stopped looked down to the lion. "Oh," he said. "I see.

It's a 'king' thing. Okay. If you insist." Fox began to fall in line with

Mufasa. Probably some ritual, he supposed. Always walk behind the king. Oh

well. When in Rome…

He glanced back up just in time to see a flash of golden-brown fur flying

at him. The lioness hit him square in the chest and knocked him onto his

back. She'd almost landed on top of him, which, he realized later, would

have probably killed him. A powerful claw constricted his throat,

strangulating him. His arms flailed violently as he tried to push his

assailant off of him, but it did did nothing to stop the furious lioness.

"Sarabi!" Mufasa cried, unable to intercept the lioness as a result of his

bad leg. "Stop!"

Fox was staring into the lioness' face. Her expression of ferocity was

unforgettable, but when Mufasa's words reached her, she immediately backed

off, moving from killer to observer in a fraction of a second. He gasped

for air, his hands clutching his painfully sore neck.

Sarabi turned toward the lion. "Mufasa," she said between heavy breaths.

"What's going on? Are you okay?" She asked with concern, examining his

bandaged leg. "What has he done to you?" she cried, nursing him like an

overprotective mother.

"Calm down, Sarabi!" he commanded. He turned toward Fox. "Are you okay?" he

asked with sincerity.

Fox nodded his head, but Sarabi's attention was still directed at Mufasa.

"He can't understand you," she informed him, a hint of question in her

voice. "Humans don't understand us."

Mufasa corrected her. "Fox does, my love. I've spoken with him." He turned

to Fox. "Go ahead," he coaxed. "Show her."

Fox's throat still ached, but he managed a few syllables. "What'd you do

that for?" he rasped, staring wildly at Sarabi.

Sarabi's eyes grew wide. She'd always thought that humans couldn't

understand them or speak to them, but this one could do both apparently.

"I…" she stammered. "You were…." She turned to Mufasa. "He can talk?"

"And understand, too," Mufasa smiled. "Did you doubt me? He turned back to

the human. "This is Fox. He's my… friend."

The lioness recoiled when she heard this. "Friend? Mufasa! He's a human!"

Mufasa nodded. "Sarabi, he saved my life. Twice."

Sarabi looked at Fox, who was on his knees now. His hands were still

wrapped firmly around his throat. He looked up and smiled weakly at her.

"Mufasa," she started again, looking back at his wounded leg. "Are you

going to be all right? Is it bad?"

Mufasa pointed to the human again. "You should ask him. He tended my wound.

He's a mage."

She looked back at Fox. Years of experience made her wary and cautious. She

didn't like humans. Nothing good had ever come of humans, she knew. Still,

Mufasa wouldn't lie to her, of that she was certain. If he said that the

human had helped him, then she was obliged to return the favor. She moved

over to Fox's side, but he immediately recoiled away from her. "Wait," she

called to him. "I won't hurt you."

Fox looked at her as though she were crazy.

"Again," she added apologetically. "I won't hurt you again."

Still he shook his head vigorously. This time, it was Mufasa who spoke.

"You can trust her, Fox. This is Sarabi. I told you about her. Remember? If

you trust me, then you can trust her."

The three were interrupted by yet another arrival. Sarafina, who'd been

following Sarabi out to the pair had finally caught up. "Mufasa! Are you –

whoa, that's a human!" She stopped when she noticed Fox laying on the

ground.

"This is Fox," Mufasa informed the other lionesses. "He helped me… er…

defeat the hyenas I was hunting, and he saved my life." He looked at the

two lionesses. They were still in a state of deep confusion. "We'll

continue this at the Rock," he announced finally. "Are you okay?" he asked

Fox again. Fox nodded his head but said nothing.

Mufasa turned and began to limp toward the Rock. He realized as he walked

that he was now in his kingdom. For as long as he could remember, he'd been

Prince Mufasa, heir to the throne of Pride Rock. But now, he was king. The

realization was fantastic. He felt majestic, returning from battle with his

enemies, being escorted by his loyal subjects back to his throne. 'You've

come a long way,' he said to himself. 'Father would be proud of you.' And

he was.

As Mufasa moved off toward the Rock, Sarabi ambled up behind Fox. "I'm

sorry," she said. "I didn't realize… I saw the wound and I thought that

you…" she fumbled.

"I'm fine," Fox said, rubbing his neck. He could speak normally again.

"Look, Sarabi. Sarabi, is it?" he asked, trying to get the pronunciation

down.

"Sarabi," she repeated for him. "Yes?"

"Look, Sarabi," he said, getting it right this time. "It might not be my

place to say this, but you shouldn't go killing guys on a whim. It's just

not right."

The lioness looked at him again apologetically. "I know. I'm sorry."

Fox was willing to forgive, he decided. After all, her reaction had been

natural. Besides that, it would certainly do him no good to be on the wrong

side of this lioness. She was only trying to protect her king, and she was

quite capable of doing it, too. All the same, he thought, I'd better keep

an eye on her. "Okay," he said to her. "Just don't try to kill me again,

deal?" he said smiling.

Sarabi smiled back. "Deal," she said. "Follow me. I'll take you to the

Rock," she said. He did so, following her all the way to the base of the

cliff where Mufasa was arguing with a blue-feathered bird. Sarabi entered

the cave, but Fox remained outside, looking on curiously at Mufasa's

associate.

"No, Zazu! He's my friend. I won't turn him away, and neither will you,"

Mufasa demanded.

"Sire," he began adamantly. "Humans are loathsome! Thorns in the side of

order! They don't have any respect for us, and we shouldn't have any for

them!" Zazu turned and saw Fox approaching. "There you are! You," he

snapped sternly, flapping over to Fox, putting the tip of his wing in the

human's face. "You can just turn around and leave! The kingdom doesn't want

you here!" Fox was taken aback by the sudden change in hospitality.

"Zazu!" Mufasa cried. "He's our guest!" He turned to Fox, who was obviously

startled by the birds ill manner. "Don't mind him, Fox. He's just

unsociable."

"I really didn't…" Fox began, but the hornbill cut him off.

"Unsociable?!" he exclaimed in disbelief, turning toward the lion. "Mufasa,

it's a human! He's nothing but trouble! Remember what your father said!

He'll bring the whole…" Zazu blinked. He looked back at Fox. "Did you say

something?"

"I tried to," said Fox. "Look, I really didn't want to cause any trouble.

I…"

"Did you hear that?" Zazu asked Mufasa quickly. "Did you understand that?

What he just said?"

Mufasa nodded slowly at him. Zazu's expression changed from disapproval to

shock. "You… you…" he began at Fox.

"Can talk?" Fox finished for him. "I know. Wild, isn't it?"

Zazu wasn't letting him off the hook, though. "It's sorcery, is what it

is," he cried. "Mufasa, get rid of him quickly, for the sake of the

kingdom. He's a menace!"

A menace? Fox thought. He was getting tired of the bird's constant

harassment. "Mufasa," he said. "Who's the feather collection?" he asked,

thumbing toward the bird. "Zazi? Zayuh? Zizzah? What was it?" He was

mispronouncing intentionally now just to aggravate the bird.

Zazu had never been so insulted in all of his life. "Zazu!" he demanded.

"And 'feather collection'?" he fumed. "Why you filthy… human! If I had half

your strength, Mufasa, I'd tear this… this thing to pieces!"

Mufasa was getting tired of the argument. "Please!" he yelled. Zazu and Fox

were silent. He turned to Fox first. "Fox," he said. "This is Zazu. He's my

advisor and my very close friend." He turned to Zazu. "Zazu, this is Fox.

He is the reason I'm not lying dead in the savanna right now, so please,

show him respect."

Zazu wasn't happy with this. "But…" he began.

"Zazu!" Mufasa cut him off. "Enough!"

"Yes, sire," the bird responded curtly. He shot an angry glance at Fox, who

returned the expression. They were like two little kids making faces at

each other.

Mufasa had other things on his mind. Sarabi had been anxiously awaiting his

arrival for a reason. He knew that reason, and he was anxious too. "Fox,"

he said. "Make yourself at home here. I'll have Sarafina show you around."

Fox nodded. "Zazu," he said. "See to it that Sarabi and I have some

privacy, will you?" he asked.

"Yes, sire," Zazu said quickly. He knew what that meant, and he couldn't

help but let a tiny grin cross his beak. Mufasa noticed the gesture, but

instead of reprimanding the hornbill, he merely echoed the tiny grin and

then turned toward the cavern. Zazu flew to the top of the cave entrance

where he would stand guard for his king.

Mufasa turned and entered the cave. Fox began to follow, but Zazu stopped

him short. "And where do you think you're going?" he asked.

"I…" Fox started.

"Mufasa said he wants privacy," he declared. "I.E., no 'you'." Then he

muttered. "Feather collection indeed! Filthy human."

Fox wasn't sure why the king had wanted to be left alone, but he accepted

it on face and descended from the Rock. He was interested in looking

around. Mufasa had told him that a Sarafina would show him Pride Rock, but

he had no idea who Sarafina was. He sat down at the base of the incline and

waited. Minutes passed before a lioness came down the incline from the Rock

smiling. He recognized her from the plains. When she reached him, she

spoke. "You're Fox."

"Sarafina, I presume?" What a line! he thought. Just like in the movies.

The lioness smiled warmly. "So you can talk…"

Fox smiled shyly. "I suppose so." Sarafina looked at him with amazement and

shook her head. Finally, she spoke. "You should forgive Zazu," she laughed.

"He doesn't like humans very much. They did some pretty awful things to

Mufasa's brother and Zazu's never forgiven them for it."

"And what about you?" Fox asked. "Do you not like humans very much?"

The lioness shrugged her shoulders. "I don't know any humans," she said.

"None other than you. You don't seem all that bad."

Fox smiled. "That's nice to hear," he said. Since his plane had crashed,

he'd been threatened by a lion, attacked by a lioness and a pack of hyenas,

and insulted by a blue hornbill, and all of this solely because he was a

human. The residents don't think very highly of your kind, he said to

himself. "Well," he said to Sarafina. "Do you mind showing me around? I'd

like to see what's out here."

The lioness smiled back. "Follow me."