Emmanuel_Capricorn
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TLK : Chapter 12
🕑 Added 2025-05-06 16:52:51 +0000 UTC[1st POV]
It happened even more suddenly than expected.
I was staying with the other lions, basking in the warm golden light of the sun. It was a lazy day for the pride, and most of us were sleeping and cuddling with each other. It was one of those moments where the whole pride came together to bond.
But our peace was disturbed by a hornbill flying overhead.
A familiar bird, often seen with the king.
Zazu.
It was not his presence but the news he brought that struck horror in everyone's heart.
And what cruel news that was.
....
"Everyone to the gorge!!" Sarabi declared with a roar and almost every lion followed her as they ran towards the gorge.
Two lionesses stayed behind as the newborn cubs needed nursing. Other than that, even the cubs followed the adults, including me.
The adults ran fast, faster than any of us could catch up. We followed behind them with our little hearts thumping in our chests. For the young minds, everything after that moment felt surreal.
I cursed under my breath and prepared myself for what was to come. I may be running behind the adults but I already knew what awaited us at our destination.
I did not feel tired when I reached the gorge, exhaustion seemed to be so insignificant compared to what lay before us.
The lions stood still and gathered around a body. We slipped under the adults’ legs, and we froze when we finally saw what it was.
It was more brutal than anything my mind could prepare me for. The scene before me made the animated cartoon look like heaven in comparison.
Mufasa’s body lay twisted at the base of the gorge, scarcely resembling the proud lion he once was. His golden fur was matted with dust, blood, and fragments of torn skin.
One of his massive forelimbs was bent at an unnatural angle, shattered by the blunt force of hooves. The ribcage on his left side had collapsed inward, punctured by broken ribs, some jutting through torn muscle and skin.
His face was swollen and marred until he was barely recognisable. One eye was crushed shut, the socket caved in from a direct blow. The distinctive royal mane was now tangled and smeared with dark, coagulated blood.
The difference between the Mufasa I remembered and the one before me was so staggering that I was left speechless.
There was no dignity in his posture, no pride in his eyes. There was only the heavy silence of death and the shadow of what used to be mighty.
To us, it was like watching God fall from grace.
"The king is dead," one of the lionesses said with a heavy voice, "And the prince likely suffered the same fate."
You never knew words had weight until they pressed down on your heart and completely immobilised you.
"No. Not Simba," my mother choked out, "We haven't found his body yet."
Sarabi bolted out. She ignored the calls of the pride and searched madly for her son. There was desperation in her action. In that moment, she personified the hope of the pride.
A hope that we watched slowly get swallowed by despair.
...
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The pride fell apart almost immediately after that. It was like a game of chess, you could have every single piece, but if you lose the king, the game is lost regardless.
One could almost physically feel the gaping hole he left in the pride.
We returned to the den rather quickly. Everyone abandoned Mufasa's corpse so easily that it was almost unnerving to my remaining human sense.
The king was left where he fell. There was no burial, no ritual or funeral. He was left to be torn away by random scavengers. Once upon a time, he was an idol, a father, and a king to me. But there was nothing I could do except follow along with the pride.
Funny enough, that made me want to become a lion king even more. Perhaps then I could change these brutal traditions to something better.
We mourned for the day. Everyone dealt with the loss in their own way. My mother lay on the ground as if she were dead. Nala and the other cubs clung to their parents and remained almost inactive.
But most of the lionesses, including me, were restless. We knew what was coming next, and we were preparing ourselves for it.
And just like we expected, it came in the afternoon.
Scar announced his presence with a roar.
*ROAR!!!*
The thunderous roar was starkly different from what I remembered. Scar's roar was not regal or commanding like Mufasa's roar. Instead, it sounded raw, it sounded jagged, it sounded wrong.
It started with a rasp as if his voice had been gathering dust for years, and then it rose to a shrill, like broken glass. Where Mufasa declared his authority, Scar sounded like he was begging for his authority.
There was a bitterness and a desperate need to be acknowledged.
I ran out of the den with a growl and watched him walk towards the Pride Rocks from a distance.
He was not alone either. There was a clan of bloodthirsty hyenas behind him. I counted seventy-one of them as they came upon us.
*ROAR!!!*
...
"Stay close to me, Leo." Sarabi said as she walked past me.
The other members of the pride followed behind her. They went down the Pride Rocks to meet Scar and his hyenas on equal ground. You could feel the tension in the air, the foreboding in the wind.
A lion pride adjusting to a new dominant male was always messy. The shift of rulers demands blood.
We all went down and stopped in front of the Pride Rocks. Scar and the hyenas reached us and he stepped forward to announce himself king.
He did not say it outright, but you could see it from his behaviour. His chest was puffed, and he held his head high. The roar that occasionally escaped his throat was thunder that bestowed a new decree.
"Mufasa is dead, and so is Simba. There is no one else to lead this pride except me," Scar said and paced back and forth with hungry steps.
"Are you going to submit or will you resist?" Scar said and intensified his gaze on my mother, "You are the queen, Sarabi, so decide."
That was a threat. The hyenas behind released guttural sounds from their backlines. From their behaviour and upright tails, it was easy to tell that they were ready to fight on command.
A clan of hyenas led by a lion was too much for a pride without a king. There was really no choice but to submit to the new rule. Scar had taken into account resistance, so he struck an alliance with the hyenas.
With the alliance, he could dominate the pride and also fight off other challengers while being weak and cowardly.
"You can have his crown, but not his legacy," Sarabi said and bared her teeth at Scar. The other lionesses got low on the ground, ready to pounce.
"So you choose to defy me," Scar said, his voice low and vibrating. "Then so be it."
Then a fight broke out. And it took me an embarrassingly long time to realise that by Mufasa's legacy, they meant the cubs.
Fuck, they meant me.
The first thing a dominant male does after taking over the pride is kill the cubs of the previous ruler. This was done to assert dominance and also ensure that the females go into heat as soon as possible.
It was an all-out war.
And my life was on the line once more.
..
..
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