The Lion King: Judgement

Book III – Dark Star

"The fault, is not in our stars,

But in ourselves,

that we are underlings."

William Shakespeare "Julius Caesar" Act I, Scene II,

Dark Star: Chapter 1

The twilight realm was as desolate and empty as Scar had ever known it. The ethereal spirit of King Scar, black flame of Pride Rock, and recently deceased tyrant of the Pridelands, breathed out in exhaustion, as the latest of the visions of his long forgotten past vanished into nothingness once more. He still wasn't used to it yet.

The visions of his past, echoes of memories of his cubhood, his adolescent years, and the more recent tales of his young adulthood, right up to the birth of Simba and the beginning of his plot against his brother, were a tedious process for him, but he was no fool. He knew well enough their importance, if not to him then to others. And though he was loath to admit it, stubborn and arrogant as he was, he couldn't deny to himself that they had stirred up strange feelings within him. Feelings he had deliberately left buried for so long, because of the pain they brought him. As each echo was dragged out of him, and he watched the same misery and pain be inflicted upon him again and again, he often protested that enough was enough, and more than once considered demanding the spirits before him make their judgement on his soul here and now. Why they insisted in tormenting him, he had never quite been able to figure out.

But this was his existence now. Witnessing the visions of the things that had been, in a vain attempt by others to understand his choices, or so they said.

One of the two spirits called itself Ammit and he was merely a sadistic influence that, so far as he could tell, did this for fun. He took great satisfaction in seeing Scar's misery and his pain though. The other, Kivuli, was by far more enigmatic and cryptic. A part of him suspected the spirit was merely being kind. But charity and pity had never been something he had had any use for. Watching those memories over and over reinforced that, if nothing else. It seemed strange for the Great Kings to change their mind in that regard now. They had not been so kind to him in life, as he was reminded in excruciating detail with each vision of the past, that descended upon them like clouds of mist, wiping away the shades of the afterlife to show images, flickering and in shadow, once so clear to him.

In front of him, the two ephemeral spirits of the Great Kings were watching him careful. One with a great deal more concern than the other.

"What's the matter Scar?" Ammit asked him, the dark spirit's eyes aglow with a gleeful light. "Struggling to keep up?" He asked him. Scar breathed deeply again.

"What is happening to me?" He asked the two spirits, aware of his fading strength. He had gasped as soon as the vision faded, and he was still panting for air. It unnerved him. Kivuli, the Spirit of the past who was actually inclined to answer Scar's questions gave a concerned frown.

"It is the twilight realm itself. It is not the afterlife… more of an in-between place. Being here is anathema to your spirit. Stay here for too long, and your spirit… decays. You will experience a second death. The witchdoctors and dreamwalkers who come here do so only for short periods of time for this reason. Royal Mjuzi, and the spiritually inclined of the advisers of the Lion Prides of the Serengeti might spend their whole lives peering into the Spirit Realm, if only for a glimpse of what you see. Only the Shaman have a command of the Spirit Realm that even remotely resembles what you have been blessed with here in this place. You have already stayed here for much longer than is usual. And your spirit is hardly what you might call resilient, is it?" Kivuli said. Scar stared at him.

"You are only just telling me this now?" He asked, aghast. Kivuli shrugged.

"What good would it do? There is nothing to be done about it." He admitted. Scar growled in frustration, but Ammit rolled his eyes in annoyance.

"Does it matter?" He asked. "It's not as if you are going anywhere. Aren't there more important things to be discussing? Or did you think you would avoid it, by distracting us?" He asked Scar, who looked away.

"Fine." He said. He looked up. "I admit it. I killed Nguvu. I murdered my friend." He said. Kivuli, having seen the whole ordeal in the vision that assailed their senses, said nothing. Scar shook his head.

"I… He left me no choice… He was going to go to Mufasa. He would have told him everything. Mufasa would killed me. So I acted. Reacted." He said. Kivuli shook his head, sadly.

"You used the roar. You unleashed the roar of the elders on one of your oldest friends, and you destroyed the Lion Guard." Kivuli said.

"Yes." Scar said, and there was a finality to it. He didn't deny it. He glared up at Kivuli, and roared in anger. "I destroyed the Lion Guard! I started that, long ago… when Imani died, because of me. When Kasi died because of me. When Jicho was blinded because of me." Scar said. And that was something he had never said, nor truly believed in life. But looking back, it was hard to see how he'd ever considered it anyone else's fault but his own. Still. It was a little late for the benefit of hindsight.

"Those were accidents, Scar. This wasn't. This wasn't self-defence. This wasn't even vengeance for your friends or family. This was murder. You murdered Nguvu. You and your mate." Kivuli said. Scar lowered his gaze.

"I didn't have a choice. Nguvu could have helped me. He could have –"

"He could have betrayed everything the Lion Guard stood for. But he didn't. That crime was yours and yours alone. What I don't understand though, is how you could possibly have gotten away with it. The Great Kings of the Past put forth their power, and snatched back the splinter of power they had embedded in your soul. They took back the roar of the elders, and the strength that came with it. They left you a broken, wretched soul. And you clawed out the Mark of the Lion Guard that had marked your shoulder… ripped it free to try and stop its burning." He said.

Scar looked down at his shoulder, and sure enough, faded though it was after all this time, he could make out the crisscrossed lines of scarred tissue under his fur, where he had mercilessly ripped the mark from his upper arm.

"Yes. I know." He hadn't often thought of the mark on his shoulder, except during his many bout of misery and self-pity that plagued his later years.

"What happened next?" Ammit said. "How did you possibly get away with that?" Scar sighed, knowing that, if nothing else, they were now approaching the most damning and hideous parts of his life. He had suffered during the memories of the ages long past, but perhaps Kivuli could find it in himself to pity Scar for that. Any good will he might have earned from Kiuvli, for showing him the deaths of his friends, the deaths of his family, was about to be obliterated, he could feel it. He felt an unfamiliar sinking feeling in his stomach, like he had swallowed a stone.

"I… I can show you." Scar usually let the mists do their own thing, and show what they wanted to show. But, he knew he could conjure a specific memory if he tried, and with little effort, he did so now, showing the immediate aftermath of the death of Nguvu, the last able-bodied member of the Lion Guard. The mists reformed to show the scene. Scar was lying unconscious in the lair of the Lion Guard, Zira was standing guard nearby, and Sarabi, Sarafina, and their surviving friends stood nearby. Rafiki, the shaman, was treating his injuries, rubbing some foul smelling paste made of herbs and fruits into his injuries, and covering them with leaves. The ape insisted that the poultices would serve to prevent infection and that he should not pick at them. He was used to it by now, having suffered his fair share of injuries over the years as leader of the Lion Guard.

The young forms of Nala and Simba were quickly shooed from the cave by their mothers, much to the young ones displeasure.

"But Dad! Will Uncle Scar be alright?! He looks hurt!" Simba asked his father, sounding frightened. Mufasa nodded his head.

"He's got the best care we can give him, son. Now take Nala and go elsewhere. Where Zazu can see you. This is serious Simba and I need to deal with it." His tone was

"But Dad!" Simba protested. One look at his father told him that he wasn't messing around, and Simba had seen his father angry before, not so long ago, after his misadventure in the elephant graveyard (an event, unbeknownst to him, also orchestrated by his dear, wounded uncle, who lay bleeding just some distance away).

"I'll tell your uncle that you asked after him. Now go and play with Nala outside." Mufasa told him. Simba groaned, but did as he was bidden, and when the two young cubs had gone, Mufasa turn to Scar, and Zira, an expression of grim determination on his face.

"What happened?" He asked them. Zira stared up at him.

"What do you mean?" She asked him. She was sweating. Scar, the real Scar, not the mirage of the long past, could see it on her. This was early days for Zira, and she was still in shock from what she had witnessed.

"Don't play coy, Zira. I felt it." Jicho said. The blind lion was looking in her direction, but his eyelids were closed, the flesh around his eyelids burnt and twisted, the jade eyes beneath turned an ash grey. "Now Nguvu is dead, and I felt it through the Mark. I've never felt anything like that before." He said, sounding horrified. Even when Imani and Kasi had fallen, it hadn't reverberated through the mark the way it had here.

"I felt it too." Tojo added, the adolescent looking pale. "It was duller for me. Faded. But I felt it, exactly where you touched me on the shoulder, when we went to kill Bane. I felt it, like fire and ice all at once." He shuddered. "It was horrible." He said.

"Now my brother is unconscious, and Nguvu is dead! So I ask again, Zira, what happened!"

"I… My King… Mufasa… I…" Zira was at a loss for words.

"Zira." They turned, and saw Scar there. He was beginning to wake up. "It's okay…" He said. He looked up to his brother.

"Nguvu is dead. He fell from the top of the gorge. I tried to stop him but…" He trailed off. There was deathly silence, as the Pridelanders digested this information. There was shocked silcnce. Mufasa looked anguished at the news, but he also looked troubled, and that part of his expression didn't change.

"Nguvu… Kings no…" He said, as Scar gave a dramatic sigh. Mufasa swallowed though.

"What else?" Mufasa asked him.

"What?" Scar asked, taken aback. He had expected Mufasa to react to the sudden news more than that, but Mufasa was staring at him, and at the open wound in Scar's shoulder where the mark of the Lion Guard had once been.

"That can't be all there is. Rafiki confirmed it, he claims anyone with the slightest shamanic gift would have felt it for miles around. Something else happened Scar, and it led to the death of one of my Guard and I want to know what it was!" He snapped. There was no patience here now, no mercy. Scar has used up all of that long ago. He was looking at Scar with tired, hard eyes. Scar looked away. And Mufasa was stunned. Was that… Shame? In his brother's eye?

"Scar…" He said quietly. No. It was guilt. He saw guilt in his brother's eye. "What happened?" He asked him.

"I… I am responsible." Scar said softly.

"Scar no!" Zira gasped in horror, as Sarafina let out an audible gasp. Sarabi and Mufasa looked stunned. Jicho cocked his head to one side.

"Yes…" He breather. "Don't try and deny it Zira… It's my fault Nguvu is dead." He trailed off. "I couldn't stop him… I should have noticed. But I was too consumed with everything that I was dealing with… With Jicho… Part of me thinks he was only hanging on for my sake. To help deal with Bane. With Bane dead, Jicho injured… He was the last of the Lion Guard. I think it broke him." He said, looking away.

"Scar no! You can't know that! Maybe it was an accident? A fall from that height would kill anyone…"

"It was no accident." Scar said, acidly. "Nguvu wasn't one to just slip." He trailed off. "Besides…" He said. "He said as much… Until just before he stepped off. I… I screamed. I roared. You must have heard it." He said.

Mufasa nodded. They had heard the roar of the elders echo throughout the Pridelands, as if Scar was fighting a hundred jackals. Scar swallowed. "I may as well have pushed him myself. It was my fault." He said. Mufasa was quiet for a moment.

"Everyone. Please. I need to speak to my brother alone." Mufasa said.

Without a word, the others left the den, glancing at one another as they did so, but without complaint. Zira looked to Scar, who nodded to her briefly. She too left, leaving the brothers alone. Scar swallowed.

"Brother." He said. Mufasa shook his head.

"What happened afterwards?" He asked him. "What happened after Nguvu… Died?" He said. Scar was quiet.

"I roared." He answered. "Screamed is more accurate. And then… Then the Great Kings took it back. Nguvu blamed me for Kasi's death… and for Jicho's eyes. I think he blamed me for Imani's death too. And the Kings must have agreed with him, because when he died, they took away my roar. I couldn't reform the Lion Guard now if I tried, brother. I'll never roar again. I can't. They took it from me. And now the Lion Guard is dead. That was what Jicho felt through his mark." He said. Mufasa gasped.

"You… You can't roar? Have you tried –"

"I can feel it, brother. It echoed through the mark, everyone felt it. Even Zira and Tojo who were members of the Guard for such a tiny amount of time, felt it. They punished me for Nguvu's death. Ask Rafiki… I am sure if he works his shamanism, he'll get the same answer. It's my fault that Nguvu is dead, and the Great Kings stole my roar because of it. They blame me. And they are right to do so." He said honestly. Mufasa stared at his brother in shock, and was overwhelmed with pity.

"Brother…"
"Mufasa, don't. Losing Nguvu was bad enough."

"Scar… I am sorry for your loss. For everything you've lost. The Great Kings can be cruel indeed." He said, the words sounding strange on Mufasa's lips. For once, there was no zeal, no blind faith in the Kings of the Past. Just shock, horror, and indescribable greif, and for once, the circle of life, and the will of the kings, offered him no comfort. "I am so sorry." He said. Scar grimaced.

"It's nothing less than I deserve. First Imani. Then Kasi. Now Nguvu? Is it any wonder the great Kings would deem me a failure?" He trailed off.

"You are not a failure, brother. Never that." Mufasa told him, certainty suddenly there again. The real Scar was stunned. Mufasa's faith in the Great Kings may have wavered, but never his faith in his brother. In the vision though, Scar growled.

"Are you so sure of that? I failed my parents. I failed my son. I failed my friends. Everything I do, I am destined to fail in. Is it any wonder that the Great Kings picked you over me to rule? Is it any wonder that they must punish my failure?" He asked him. Mufasa was silent.

"Maybe it wasn't a punishment." He said carefully. Scar sighed.

"And what else would it be? A mandatory retirement?" He asked sarcastically. He shook his head. "No. The Lion Guard has ended. The Pride will say that I destroyed the Lion Guard, and rightly so. Let Rafiki put that on these paintings: That I destroyed the Lion Guard. Then let it end. Let it die. Just like Caliban and Bane and his ilk always wanted." He said, his voice becoming soft, almost resigned. Mufasa looked at his brother, wanting to deny it, so say that the Kings must surely have a plan for him, a plan for all of them, that they wouldn't be so cruel as to compound his grief forth the death of his friend, by holding him responsible. But what was he supposed to think? The evidence spoke for itself. Nguvu had died, and that had been the last straw. The Great Kings had snatched back their power, badly injuring Scar as they had done so: what else could it have meant, but an indictment and condemnation of Scar, and his Lion Guard?

"I am sorry, brother." Mufasa said again. "If there is anything I can do?" Scar was quiet.

"Actually… Yes." He said, thinking to himself. "There is something I would like." He looked at his brother. "I have been blind, brother. Blind and stupid and arrogant and full of bitterness. Enough is enough. I want… to be a part of this family again. It's… It's all I have left." He said honestly. Mufasa could hardly believe his ears, could hardly belief what his brother was saying.

"Do you mean it?" He asked, unable to hide his enthusiasm, despite the sombre occasion. Scar nodded.

"You were right, brother. I hadn't moved on from Kira's death. And I was so caught up in my own grief, that I never noticed Nguvu's. I have been neglecting my responsibilities to my family. And to my nephew." He said.

"You mean you'll be a part of Simba's life?" Mufasa asked him, hope fluttering there at the edge of his thoughts.

"Indeed I do." Scar said. "In fact… Suppose I took him hunting? He's been complaining that Nala is a better fighter than he is. Maybe it's time his uncle taught him a few new tricks?" He asked him. Mufasa hesitated. His first impulse was to say no, that teaching his son to fight wasn't exactly what he had in mind when he had sought his brother's aid in guiding and teaching his son. But then again, what harm could it do? Simba had shown recklessness and foolhardiness in recent days, even endangering his friend's life. Scar though, was as cunning as finest of serpents, and always planned everything in advance. It was exactly what he needed his son to learn, to appreciate the value of. And more than that, he knew from experience that youth and enthusiasm was the antidote to grief and loss. When Scar had first been injured, all those years ago in the fight with his father, it had been the attentions of the young Tojo and Tama and Kula, that had helped haul him from his own depression. Perhaps, spending time with Simba would do the same now?

"Of course brother. Why don't you take him on a day trip or something tomorrow? It'll help take your mind of this terrible tragedy… I'll warn him not to pester you with questions about it." He assured him. Scar nodded.

"Thank you brother. For your understanding." He said. Mufasa swallowed.

"It's alright, Scar." He said, determined not to let the tragedy of what had happened to Nguvu repeat itself. He was never going to ignore the pain of another of his friends again. "Whatever I can do… just let me know." He said. And the vision faded into nothingness.

Ammit and Kivuli watched in silent judgement, as the Soul of Scar witnessed his own fall yet again. The darkened form of his former self, walked away from the collected Pride members, guiltless and unapologetic for his filthy crime. His cunning yet again expunging him of guilt and blame.

"That's revolting." Kivuli said, aghast, staring at Scar in shock. "You persuaded the Pride that Nguvu… I can't believe it…" He said. Ammit was laughing though.

"And to think! When the Kings punished you by taking back the power they had blessed you with, you turned that into a sop story too! Oh that's too good! You were punished for committing murder, and you managed to get Mufasa and the others to feel sorry for you over it! Oh Scar, that is inspired. I wondered how you could possibly get away with murder but that… that's genius." He said. Scar looked away, looking ashamed now.

"I didn't have a choice. Mufasa would have killed me… or exiled me at the very least. I couldn't let that happen." Scar said. Kivuli was still stunned though, at the audacity of what Scar had done.

"You wanted to see, Kivuli. You wanted to see how I destroyed the Lion Guard." Scar said. Kivuli nodded, and it was plain that there was a part of him that had wished he'd remained ignorant of quite how.

"Are we done now?" Scar asked, knowing and dreading the answer. Ammit chuckled to himself.

"Done? Oh no, my dear Scar. We are not even close to being done. Afterall, don't you think, after all this sentiment, all this nostalgia, it's time to get right to heart of the matter? We know who you were Scar. We know the mistakes you made. We know the lion you turned yourself into. I think now, we ought to turn our gaze to the very reason you made yourself this. The very cause of your unbridled hate for your brother and nephew. I think it's time we saw how Scar, Traitor's King took his crown. I think, it's time we saw for ourselves, how you killed a King." Ammit said.

AN:

And that ladies and gentlemen is the start of book III, the final part of this trilogy. I hope you all enjoy it. Please, do leave a review, and let me know what you think. We're in for a ride now, as Scar becomes more ruthless than he has ever been, as he vies for the throne.