“...but know, thou noble youth,
The serpent that did sting thy father’s life
Now wears his crown.”
It was the end of the world. Or close enough not to make a difference, anyway.
The thought raced through Simba’s fear maddened mind as he sprinted down the length of the gorge, his short legs flailing madly as he fought to keep ahead of the maelstrom behind him. The ground shook under his feet, sand spraying into his eyes as the leading edge of the wildebeest stampede began to pass by him on either side. Sharp hooves dug into the ground inches from his face, and he flinched away, scrambling madly to keep from being trampled. He glanced up at the bleating wildebeests and stumbled, paws flailing as he fought to keep his balance. He regained his footing and continued, tides of air rushing in and out of his lungs as he strained to keep ahead of the onrushing herd.
Ahead a dark shape hove into view; a twisted and gnarled remnant of a small tree, withered and half dead. Simba lunged for it, scrabbling up the old wood to the top. The one remaining limb swayed and creaked dangerously as he made his way onto it, tail flicking from side to side rapidly in an effort to stay balanced. One foot slipped, and his haunches slid out from under him. His front claws scored deep wounds into the old wood as he felt himself sliding over the side.
“Oh gods,” he thought, “I’m gonna FALL--”
His claws finally caught, and he laboriously hauled himself atop the limb, clutching it with fearful strength as he saw the wildebeest flowing past him like some insane river, their bleats and bellows of panic punctuating the constant thunder of their hooves.
High above, Zazu passed over the edge of the gorge wall and dipped his wings, plummeting into the crevasse as he scanned the ground rapidly. Squinting through the dusty haze, he saw the cub perched on an old limb and flew to him, fighting to keep his altitude in the roiling air.
“Zazu, help me!”
“Your father is on the way!” Zazu shouted. “Hold on!”
“Hurrrrry!” Simba screeched, as he slipped again, feeling the limb creak again under his weight.
Zazu shot away towards an overhanging ledge where Mufasa and Taka were sliding down the slope, paws scuffing in the dirt for purchase. Ascending, he flew to Mufasa’s side and pointed with one wing. “There! There, on that tree!”
Mufasa looked and felt his blood freeze up. Sweet Aiheu... ”Hold on, Simba!” he bellowed.
A passing wildebeest bumped the tree, shaking it with a loud CRACK! that all of them heard. Simba screamed in sheer blind panic as he felt the tree shift again, and saw splinters poking out from a break in the wood. Closing his eyes, he began to rapidly recite the prayer his mother had taught him when he was still nursing at her side:
His voice stuck on the last word, his head shaking in mute negation as tears began to run down his cheeks. “Oh God, I don't want to die!”
Mufasa stared for a second, then clenched his jaw and leapt from the perch on the ledge, flinging himself into the stampede below. Taka and Zazu watched disbelievingly as they saw him weaving in and out between the panicked creatures with infinite grace. Zazu watched in horror, Taka in absolute glee.
“He’s going to get himself killed,” they thought simultaneously.
It was a dance of survival as Mufasa swerved among the jostling bodies armed with hooves, horns, and unstoppable speed.
Swept along in its irresistible crushing tide, Mufasa struggled to find Simba in the dust.
Next to him, a hapless gnu stumbled. Quickly she was overwhelmed and fatally battered, her dying shriek piercing Mufasa like a thorn. "No time to be afraid," he thought. "I must find him!"
Looming ahead was a branch. Dangling over certain death was a hysterical cub. "Simba!"
Zazu flapped about, near insane with panic. “Oh, Scar, this is awful! What are we going to do? What are we going to do?” He looked at Mufasa again, missing the look of annoyance that swept Taka’s features. The hornbill straightened as Taka raised a forepaw. “I’ll go back for help!! That’s what I’ll do, I’ll go back fo--”
Sudden dark descended as Taka backhanded the bird, sending him smashing into the rock wall with an audible crunch. Taka glanced at him, wondering if he had killed the idiot, when he saw the slow rise and fall of Zazu’s chest. Unconscious, then. He raised a paw to finish the job when he was distracted by a cry from below.
Mufasa grunted in pain as he was slammed backward, sprawling in the dirt. Raising his head, he gaped in horror as a wildebeest collided with the old tree, breaking it with a final rotten crack. Simba was flung up and away, screaming as he tumbled through the air, legs flailing desperately as he saw the ground rushing up at him--
--to be replaced by Mufasa’s jaws. The lion leapt through the air, catching Simba gently and bearing him off towards the side of the gorge. He dodged a cow, and sidestepped another--
--his rear foot slipped. A bull came rushing from the dust, ramming him with terrible force, eliciting a roar of pain as he felt the horns tear his side. Simba was flung unceremoniously away and landed amongst a sea of pounding hooves. Afraid to move, he sidestepped desperately, watching the bull as it passed overhead, feeling the thrumming under his feet. A warm grip surrounded him, and he felt Mufasa’s breath upon him again as he was swept up in his father’s jaws.
Mufasa ran through the deadly flood, the rumbling shaking him to the core, and the smell of sweat, fear, and dust pouring in with each gasp.
"Help me! Please, God, help me!"
He looked for a ledge, however small. Working his way to the edge, he considered trying to ride it out, but he was grazed by horns. One more inch and he would have been gored!
Finally he saw a place. He leaped, sat his child down, and grabbed for purchase.
He was rudely ripped away as a group of wildebeest crashed into him, bearing him off into the dust.
“DAD!” Simba screamed, horrified. He searched the ground desperately, his eyes continually drawn by the passing wildebeest. Nothing. And nothing. And still nothing. Oh gods, where was he?!
Mufasa’s legs hurt, his heart pounded, and his lungs were about to burst. He managed to see an exit. "Oh gods!"
A rumbling roar tore at the air as he launched himself through the air, slamming into the rock wall of the gorge and driving the air from his lungs. He paused a minute, then scrabbled his way up the slope, fighting for purchase. He began to slip down ever so slowly, and desperately fought the pull of his own weight. "Help me! God help me!"
Taka paced slowly along the gorge wall, observing the turn of events. This was not supposed to happen, not at ALL. Not only had Simba escaped injury, but his oaf of a brother had fought his way clear of the stampede and was making his way to safety even now.
A whisper spoke in his brain. “And what happens when he finds out about the surprise that he was supposed to have?”
“I don’t know,” Taka muttered.
“Yes you do. He’ll finish you. You have to kill him NOW, before it’s too late!”
“No! I’ve messed things up enough already.”
“Would you rather die? This goes far beyond banishment, imbecile. This is treason. Kill him!!”
Taka stood uncertainly at the edge of the cliff, watching as Mufasa dragged his way up, unaware of the shadow which pooled behind him, black as midnight despite the dust which obscured the sun’s rays. He felt a sudden urge to plunge into the herd below and end this insane dance once and for all. No more pain.
“Scar!!”
Snapping out of his reverie, he looked to see Mufasa just below him. The huge muscular legs scrabbled desperately for purchase, finding none.
“Brother!! Help me!”
“Ohh, so now it’s ‘brother,’” Taka thought, a red haze of hatred obscuring his vision. “Fat lot of good all that strength does you now, eh?”
“Scar!! Please!!”
Taka glared at the lion below him. He had a vivid memory of Mufasa’s rage as he shouted, “Is that a challenge?”
At the time, he’d meekly said, “Oh, I wouldn’t DREAM of challenging you!” Now he not only dreamed it. It was within his grasp. For a while he enjoyed the feeling of power. He gloried in the turn of the tide.
Taka lunged down, burying his claws knuckle deep in Mufasa’s forelegs. Mufasa shrieked in pain as he felt the needle sharp claws tear into his flesh. Warm blood began to run down his legs as he stared into Taka’s face, uncomprehending.
Taka’s face split into a grin. Slowly, viciously, he intoned, “Long live the king.”
Mufasa looked pleadingly at Taka. Only then did he realize that Taka hated him and wanted him dead. His jaw trembled.
He was ripped from the wall and flung outwards, the sky and ground exchanging places rapidly, a shriek of horror following him down, down into the living torrent.
The air blistered and rippled nearby, several wildebeest shying away as Mano plunged into the canyon, crying out soundlessly as he saw Ahadi’s son vanishing into the stampede. He ran towards the spot, passing through several animals.
He padded up slowly, peering through the swirling dust as the last of the wildebeest shot past. Tears sprang to his eyes as he saw the magnificent body lying in a bloody sprawl at the base of the tree which had borne Simba up long enough for Mufasa to rescue him. Mano saw that Mufasa was mortally wounded. He came close and nuzzled the torn face, which responded slowly. Mufasa painfully lifted his head, eyes dawning with recognition as he saw the white lion standing before him. The silver-blue eyes looked kindly into his amber ones as he felt the pain slip away.
“Sleep, my friend.” Mano kissed his cheek and bore the great head to the ground with his paw. There was a moments hesitation, then the broken body breathed its last and was still.
There was an electric feeling of anticipation in the air, and suddenly Mufasa’s Ka was before him, whole and magnificent, untouched by pain or worry. The shook himself uncertainly, feeling the tingle upon his skin of the spirit which stood before him. He lowered his head and extended a forepaw. “Incosi Mano. I touch your mane.”
“I feel it.” Mano nuzzled him gently. “You must come with me.”
Mufasa moved to join him, but was stopped short as he beheld his son coming through the dusty air, crying his name. “Simba! I must go to him! I must go to him!”
“No!” Mano restrained him with a paw. “You must NOT go to him. You have gone down the left fork, and he is headed down the right. But I will find a way out for him.”