Time moves on and in the land far far away all the adult humans disappeared and left the land to the children of the forest and the trees. The mighty plants grew over their houses and the land changed. It connected with the roots deep underground spread it’s creeper far and wide and the land was changed forever. It was a peaceful land. And it was a forceful land where might ruled and the weak trembled in fear of the strong.
There used to be that a proud and strong lion lived in the forest. His mane was large, his coat was clean and his roar was mighty. So it was little wonder that he became proud and boastful. He would spend time in the large comfortable home under the tree and reminisce and boast to all his friends.
But as it is with these things his stories grew bigger and bigger and his actions became smaller and smaller until noone in the forest took him seriously. They would leave him to his devices and ignore his demands and wishes. And before he knew it he found himself alone and bored with only very few animals who would listen and even less friends.
So it came one day, as he was sitting in his lair mulling over his downfall with the wise rhino, who was acting as a doctor to the animals sometimes that the gray animal said: “I should think that the problem is you allowed yourself to be lulled into the comfort of your house. Into the softness of your bed. You should remember the old days, when you were still hunting in the south. You should not fear to show your strength again. I think you should go and make new stories to tell.” And the Lion liked this. By the god he taught. It should be so. I should be in a position to travel again. I should go south into the wild lands to see what is happening in the land I once hunted. And while I am there, checking on the herds of buffalo, administering to the flocks of gazelles I will find adventure. I will find new stories to tell. I will find new glory. And if I come back or if I decide to stay in that land I will be amongst new soles. I will be listened to as a person who traveled far relying only on his courage and strength and sometimes wits and find a new way to live my life!
And so that very day he started preparing for the journey. He went from house to house telling everyone who was willing to listen that he will go south to explore and hunt soon. And that if they need anything from him they should come quickly, as he is not long for this forest. And the animals nodded and smiled and a few even congratulated him on the idea. But strangely enough no one came to visit in the next few days. And so on the morning he was about to leave, there was just the gray rhino there to see him off.
“Ah, old friend,” the big animal would say: “Are you certain you should go on your way? The road is hard and perhaps you are not as strong or as daring as you used to be. There is no shame in that.”
But the Lion’s heart was set. He would not back down now. The animals did not believe that he was capable of running around and defending his territory? His pride was wounded and he knew he could not back down now. So he put on his bravest face: “Worry not my friend. I am set to leave. It will be a glorious journey. Do you not miss the planes we grew up on? I will find the mighty heards there fest on them and I will be better for it.”
Just as he was saying that a small voice chimed in.
“Brave lion? Mind if I beg a boon?” Neither of them noticed the small quiet newcomer that bussed into the den. It was small Nancy the mouse. She was shivering next to the lion. Clearly afraid and awed at his presence. “Mighty lion. I have never left the safety of the forest. I have jet to see the planes where the herds roam. Please take me with you. Please let me be part of a glorious adventure!”
The lion looked down on the small beast. What was he to do? She was small and useless. She would be no help in the fight. But she was also the only one who believed in him. Who was willing to entrust his life to him just to see the wide outdoors. It was not a hard choice for him even as he saw a frown appear on the rhinos face. If nothing else it would be nice to have somebody to see his brave deeds. “Why not little mouse. We leave in an hour so pack what you must and let us go to seek our fortune!”
Just the sight of relief and worship on the little face was enough that he knew he had made a good decision. He smiled to himself. He would try to protect the little creature. It was time for it to learn the ways of the world. And who could be better as the guide than him. Nothing will befall the creature on his watch.
“Are you sure this is wise?” The rhino asked when the mouse rushed off: “She will be your responsibility. Her life will be in your head. So think long and hard on this. Are you really ready to sacrifice your life for somebody else?”
The lion all bad had a change of heart. And if he had more time he would have ran away and left the mouse there. Or perhaps just postponed his trip indefinitely. But at that moment the mouse came rushing in, dragging a big suitcase. And she looked so lost and unprepared. That he did not have the heart to disappoint her.
“It will be fine my friend. Look at her! She is so small she could hide in my mane if there is trouble around. So there shouldn’t be much danger for her. Besides who will attack a mouse traveling with a mighty lion!”
Then he looked at the suitcase that was all but the size of the mouse. “And speaking of traveling? What is in the big bag you are thinking of bringing with you.”
“Clothes and sheets and food and my writing utensils and,…”
“Ah, little mouse. We are not going to stay at your mothers place! You shall take none of those things. It’s just me and you and the open plains. And the glorious wind at our back!” So he shook the hand out of the suitcase and dragged the surprised mouse behind him. The rhino could only look at their receding back as they quickly left the forest following the south road.
“I shall never see my friends again.” the rhino taught with sadness. “Even if they do return they will not be the same as when they left. But godspeed to both of you on your travels. Godspeed and good luck.”
The road moved quickly before their feet. The Lion sometimes carried the mouse so they could move faster. But he wanted her to move on her own as much as she could, as he wanted her to grow strong and quick. Just in case if somebody came by that was not a friendly sort and he was not there to protect her. The mouse on the other hand was wonderstruck. She would run from flower to flower, explore everything and look at every little thing she could find. But whenever she could she would stick close to the lion, touching his paw if possible and wistfully looking into his big eyes. And the Lion liked the attention he was getting. It made him feel young and strong. It was making him proud and confident. And help him remember the days he was the king in the southlands. And he appreciated the Mouse in his presence.
The first night caught them on the road. They found a nice meadow, put the back to a big tree and cuddled one to another for warmth. The Lion was warmed by the Mouse and the Mouse was protected by the Lion. And both of them felt good in the morning when the sun removed the sleep from their eyes. They could hear insistent buzzing from all sides. But could make no sense of the noize so they paid it no mind. It was just some bees arguing over their honey.
Soon tho it was time to eat. And while the mouse was quick to find berries and roots for her tummy the lion could not find any smell of meat. So as much as it hurt his pride he accepted some of the berries from the mouse and he chewed on some roots to stay off the hunger, consoling himself that soon he will see the rich plains full of food and riches where he will be the one to provide the food.
And so they walked. The mouse quickly ran next to the slowly marching lion. Finding comfort in each other’s company and going more and more south until they reached the river. The Lion did not remember a river being there. Did he forget or are on the wrong track? He was confused, but he did not wish to show his concerns to the little mouse that was looking at him with it’s loving eyes. So they crossed the river and then another. And continued south. But the more they walked the less like the lands he remembered the surroundings were. What happened to the herds of buffalo. The gazelles? But what could he do but continue south and explore what used to be his hunting ground.
On the third day he was getting more and more concerned not recognising anything he saw that he started to think that it might be a good idea if he were to turn back. Yes turn back, return to the forest and discuss the changes in the land with the rest of the animals. Perhaps they could shed some light onto the rapid changes that were happening in the world? There was no other course. The path was clear. The task is direct and the road clear. Tomorrow in the morning they will have no recourse but to turn back. The food was scarce here and while the mouse didn’t have a problem feeding herself and even providing him with fruit it was not a proper meal for a Lion. No he had to figure out what happened to his lands.
“What is that?” The mouse pointed to the near forest where a small light was provoking the encroaching light. It was not the setting sun that was disappearing behind the horizon. It was something else. And there was nothing for it. He had to check it out. It was strange and foregin, but it could be the cause behind the changes in his domain. So the Lion shushed the mouse and together they started to creep closer in his and closer to the foregin light that was becoming them from the forest.
Closer and closer they creeped until they found the source. A small human boy was huddling all alone next to a fire. The smell of fresh meat invaded the Lion’s nostrils as he observed the foregin creature welding his knife. What was going one here? The lion did not like people. They did not belong in his lands. Should he chase him away? Should he make sure he did not return to wherever he came from and bring more of his ilk? Was even the forest in danger? Who could tell with these creatures around.
The mouse on the other hand had no fear of the evil humans could bring to the lands. She scampered to the very edge of the light, aved and curious: “What are you doing there?” And almost as if she just remembered to be polite: “And what is your name?”
The boy did not startle as the Lion expected: “I am preparing my dinner. And it is not polite to ask someone’s name without giving your own.”
“I did not know this.” responded the Mouse. “My name is Nancy. So what is yours?”
“They call me Akida. And who is your friend in the shadows?”
“Akida. Strange name. That is Trevor. He is a Lion. Are you not afraid of him?”
“I am a bit, if I admit. But I sense he has a kind heart in him so I do not think I should run. I would make him my friend if he would but let me.”
“He does have a kind heart. And he is very brave. He makes a wonderful friend. But he is not quick to trust. You are in his lands you know. And without his permission.”
“A is that so? I did know that. I am sorry, great Lion if I encroach in your domain. But things are changing quickly in the world and I am looking for answers. I hope to find some wisdom in the south.”
“You should speak to the rino. He…”
“Quiet little mouse!” Roared the Lion and stepped into the light, positioning himself between the human and his friend. “It is for him and me to speak. Do not presume you can speak for me.”
“Aaa, so he does have words in him. Good. Sit, great lion. Let me share this hair with you. And we can exchange knowledge of the world. To see if we can figure out what is happening.”
The Lion’s mane roze on his head, but he laid feigning confidence. “Let us share a meal and discuss the world then. I too have noticed that things are changing in my land. And I have a mind to do something about it.” He yawned mightily, made his head comfortable and looked meaningfully towards the human boy. He did not dare to start the conversation, as he was all but sure what was going on.
“You want me to start then? It is propper, as I am the visitor in your lands and you seem to be of some importance. Very well.” The boy cut the rabbit in half and threw a part of it towards the Lion who deftly caught it in his grip and started munching on the uncooked meat. “I was sent by my father who lives far to the south of here. The land was peaceful for a long time, but it has been changing. Even in my lifetime I have started to notice changes. Our land is rich in fruit and honey, the forest filled with game and the wood is strong and easy to work with. At least that is how it used to be. My father said they first noticed the changes in the wood. It became harder. It became brittle. And it started to rot even before you took it from the tree. And so it went. The fruit was not as sweet, the flowers not as fraignant and the bees not as plentiful. We adapted. We changed. Elders would walk the forests for days. Looking for the sickly trees, cutting them down and burning them in order to remove the sickness. They would examine the soil where the fruits grew, tasting the nutrients in the ground and trying to adjust them. But nothing helped. Slowly but surely The Blight started to drive us south. Until we came in contact with the Master of the Fish. And then we could not move any further. We were trapped between starvation and certain watery death. Many tried their hands at bargaining with the waters of the deep, but all failed or were never heard from again. And so we ebbed and the village became smaller and smaller, the children fewer and fewer. I have no brothers or cousins. It takes fresh blood to find new paths in a novel world my father said. Passed me his grandfather’s bow and the two named arrows and told me to go north. To seek out what is happening in the world and whence the malice is coming from.” The boy looked pensive. “I like not what I see dear Lion. This is not the land I expected. We have tales of land of buffalo and giraffes. Of mighty beasts that prowl the land in search of game. But all I can catch are these sickly rabbits. And the only beasts, apart from you, are the hyenas you can hear prowling after my scraps.” And then the boy was quiet. Sadly looking at his fire. There were no tears in his eyes, but Nancy could feel that they were only hidden from the two of them. Inside the boy was crying like a little baby.
“We will help Akida. Will we not Trevor?”
“Quiet mouse. Do not make promises you cannot keep! What is it to us that the boys’ people are dying? They would not lift a finger for us. In fact I would wager they would pick up their bows and make good meals out of us if they could.” He snorted. “But that is neither here nor there. It is not because I do not think I should that I do not help your people. It is because I do not know all the facts. The land is in trouble. I will give you that. And if I knew what was happening and why I might be tempted to help or to hinder you. But my little human. This is the difference between you and me. The land is changing. I would like to keep it as it was in my memory. But until I know why and what the change will bring I cannot promise anything. The land is not something we should control. Perhaps the change is for the better. Perhaps I will starve and die, but new better life will spring out of my bones. Or perhaps it will be for the worse and my body will be consumed by worms while I still walk the plains. It is not for me to decide if the land can change or not. I must walk the land. Find the source, the cause and try to understand the results. If the land will be better off, I will let the change happen. If the land will suffer I will try to prevent the change. But I will not rush head-first into it without knowing the cause or the cure. True there are no buffalo. But perhaps a new land is but emerging from the chrysalis and something even more magical will emerge.”
“You are afraid?” gasped Nancy who did not know how to keep her little snout shut and knew the lion long enough to understand his kicks and buckles.
There was no point in denying it: “I am afraid. Only a fool is not afraid when he is faced with the might of the unknown. The boy is afraid. His father is afraid. His people are shaking in their huts. You should be afraid of the land my little mouse. If you do not fear the land you will think yourself the master of your fate and that brings naught but trouble.”
“You do not think you are the master of your fate?” Asked Akida.
“Noone is the master of faith. Go and talk to the old ones in their graves. They thought they were the masters. And they are still surprised how fast nature turned against them. They are there in their vaults. Feering the day and lamenting the loss of their power. They are all but shadows now, mad with their isolation in their electric cages they build for themselves. So we my dear Nancy, we are not like them. We do not try to rule the land, we shepherd it.”
“You are afraid.” Said Nancy sadly. Like she just lost faith in the sky above. “You are afraid. But you are not willing to fight? I taught you to be the Lion. The king of the land. The ruler of all that is known. That is what you told everyone. And jet, when somebody calls for your help you refuse? What king does that?”
Trevor shook with rage, but refused to snarl. “I am the king of the land. And I intend to figure out what is happening to the land. I make no promises of help until I figure that out.”
“Well I am going to help the boy stop the changes to the land! I will fight to preserve our forest and their home. I will make things what they used to be again.” Responded nancy, here paws shaking with determination. “I will protect the land!”
Trevor shook his mane. “Fine little one. Fine. Stay out of trouble if you can. I will make a circuit of the land, see what I can find and find you when I have a better grasp on the situation.” Then he rounded on the little boy. “And you little human. Guard her with your life. If but a hair is broken on her body I will find you and take your right hand and your left leg. Let the laughter of the night consume your flesh and end your misery.”
With that he turned form the fire took a few slow strides listening carefully if the mouse would come after him. When she did not he increased his step, loping over the fern and field and extending his senses to all the corners of his land.
Yes this was better. He liked the mouse, but she was a distraction for him. He could not let himself become a beast in her presence. For fear of harming her, but even more for the fear of her thinking less of him if he let his mask down.
It took him half the night to find his bearings. Now that he was no longer confused if he was in the right place he soon could find the mountains to the west that he could remember. And from that he could remember the big river that criss crossed the land.
He ran next to his banks looking for the telltale signs of beast crossing, but all he could find were the traces of hungry crocodiles that moved somewhere else.
He could remember the land now. It was his kingdom, but the grasses had grown and outcrops of bushes sprung up from the soil. Trees rooted where once there could not. It was his kingdom, but barely so.
He ran on, catching the laughter of the Hyenas on the wind. They were conniving beasts and hard to stomach. But they were vise in their own way. They prawled the land and saw many things. And if what the boy Akida said they were weak and would not give him trouble.
He found them soon. They made their den in the very same rock he used to call his home in the time long past. They looked sickly and tired, their ribs protruding from their chest, their libs weak from hunger, their paws bloody from the long treks they attempted each day in order to find sustenance.
It was not a pretty site, and had he not remember their vicious snapping at his heels when he lived here he would have felt pity on them. As such he only felt disgust mixed with anger that they let themselves become so weak. “What are you doing in my lair dogs!” He roared. “Who made you king of the steppe.”
Most of the beasts ran away from him. Yipping and yapping like a pack of geese. But not all. An old matron stayed. Bigger and healthier looking like the rest of them, but still starving and thin compared to Trevor. “Ahh, my old friend Trevor! I see life in the cushy forest suits you. You have grown plump and lazy since I saw you. But I imagine you can see some changes in me as well.”
It took him some time to connect the raspy old voice to the annoying little whelp that used to annoy him by playing under his nose. She had changed since he saw her indeed. And not for the better. He could smell rot on her breath and he was not certain if it was from the food she ate or if it was something rotting deep inside her. “Little Magda? You had changed indeed. Are these your friends?”
“My clan! I took over from my mother that took over from the Old smelly beast that was the matron when you were still around.”
Old smelly matron indeed taught the Lion. The more things change the more they stay the same. “Well you always had a certain way about you. Made the rest of the animals look at you.”
“You are thinking of my smell, I know. But I will not hold it against you. I am proud of my smell.”
“It is most certainly special. But enough of banter my dear. I am not pleased with the state of the kingdom. The grass has overgrown. Where are all the gazelles? What happened to the herds of zebras?”
“Gone my ledge. All gone! Hihihihihihi!” The piercing laughter filled the air. All the mouths in the clan raised the response and the grasses shivered from the noise. The clan was suffering, but they were not beaten. They were stubborn and wilful. They will remain on the land or die trying, as Magdas mother said. Proud and obstinate.
“So tell me. What happened to my land? How did it change so much in such a short time?”
“Your land? Short time? You think a pup changes to a crow in an instant? And that your flock will stay loyal without a shepherd? Grasses grow and voulters crow. You left. Turned your back on the land of your fathers. It is no longer yours to command. We are the kings here.”
“Some kings! All I see is muck and dust. Even the vultures are nowhere to be seen. Who do you rule except your empty stomachs!” Quiet permeated the starlight night after the roar that echoed from all sides. “If you want to rule this pit of rotting flies be my guest! Else tell me what happened here before I lose my temper and break your neck!”
He could see the shapes around him draw back. Afraid now, but still willing to fight and die if the mother demanded. But he paid attention but to the crone. She would be the one to decide if the lives of her cubs were to be exchanged for pride. And like all mothers she was not ready to make this trade. She visibly shrank under his gaze, knowing the game was up.
“What happened? How should I know? Red locusts came emptying the fields of grasses consuming the roots in their fury. You could see the red soil twirl in the wind as they left. It was but a month after they returned. As poisoned corpses floating on the water. Any bird that ate them fell from the sky. Only me and my kin could feast on their roten corpses. Even the vultures could not keep their bowels inside. Life was good for a time. The clan was big. The clan was strong! And the clan was growing! I was proud to choke the life out my mothers lungs and divide her flesh among my children. The gadflys came from the west. Stinging and chasing the heards from their pastures. Or making them weak so they were easy pray for my kin.
But it was not to last. The heards did not return. I sent my girls one after another to seek them, but all they could find was dried up bones and sand. If they returned at all. But it was not the end. Foul smoke came from the west. The air smelled of burning fur and blood and wrongness. Half my boys died coughing up bile and sweating puss. My heir choked for days until she drowned herself in the river rather than endure the suffering. What do you want me to say? We have been starving ever since. The grasses grew back. And shrubs came. But only rabbits and rats remain to feast on them. And they are hard to catch. We suffer, we endure. It is as it was in my youth. I hope to see a golden era return again in my life. We keep our eyes to the east for the return of the heards. But the hope is fleeting.”
“Did you check what is happening in the west? There is where the trouble lies.”
“Only fools explore the west. That was true in your time as it is now. Nothing but trouble lies down there.”
“North is clear. The South is dying. There is but burning sand to the east. So I must travel east.”
“Then you are a fool. Rather drown yourself in the mud so my children can eat for a day. It will help us weather the everlasting night. It can’t last much longer. Or we can’t.”
“Everlasting night. Old wives tales. I marked you as more sensible as that.” He turned his back on her, preparing to leave.
“I am an old wife! Hihihihihihihihihi! Go west then. Go west. Find the source of The Blight.”
He swirled around, scaring the nearby scavengers. “The source of The Blight? Where did you hear this name?”
“The Blight?” He must have looked angry as her haunches shook like butterfly wings. “It’s what the Wasps call it. It’s what the Hornets buzz in their nests every morning. Did you not hear them? Their droning makes me sick.” The animal spat. “The Blight. The Blight. Come forth like night. Chase away their will to fight. The Blight. The Blight. Empty up their stores of might. Let us take our final flight.”
He did hear the buzzing each morning. But he never paid it any head. Who cares about the mumbling of the yellowjackets. They were many but they always had their hands full fighting their incessant warrs. As long as you didn’t put your snout in theri troff they would not notice you. But if they did notice you you were in a heap of trouble. So everybody just stayed out of their way. “Did the chanting start before or after the locusts?”
The shaggy creature inclined her head. “What do I know? I didn’t listen to them until there was hunting to be done. But perhaps before. The birds might know. They keep an eye on them. But they are all gone now.”
The Lion narrowed his eyes. “It is strange. If they are connected to the Blight one would assume they have already reached their goals. But if they are not, why are they worshiping it? I wish I could talk to them.”
“Wish all you want. It’s unlikely to happen. All they do is stay inside and breed. They do not even fight any more. Just breed and hunt all they can. I saw them take one of my sons once. He was a runt, but he should have been able to escape them. But another nest came from the other side and they caught him in a trap.” The teeth showed in a ferocious smile. “He was a runt but I would still avenge if I could. But there is no talking to them. You know how they were. They are worse now.”
“Thank you Magda. For all your help. I appreciate it, and I will mention you in my tale if I have the chance.”
“Mention me all you want. It’s more likely I will mention you to my children. You are a stubborn and proud hunter. But you were still the last king of these lands. For all my posturning I am no queen.”
And so he walked away. The clan parted for him, letting him pass, but not letting him out of their sight. There were more than he expected. Hundreds perhaps. Starving and weak, but strangely proud for an animal that lived on the scraps of others. He could hear some arguing behind him, as he was retreating. Some upstart suggesting they should take him and feast no doubt. But Magda was no fool. She would let him pass. He might stay off starvation for a day. But the price would be hard. And in the end it is better to drown in mud than to suffer in pain. She would be the last to succumb no doubt. Even if she had to eat her last pup. She will not pass the burden to her daughters. Just as he was coming to an outcropping where Nancy’s parents used to live, he heard running behind him. It was a junior male by the sound of the fast pace he was using. He stopped and waited for the nipper: “Yes?”
“Grandmother remembered something else. She says one more thing. The birds did not discuss The Blight, but one of her daughters remembers that one of the Volutes once said, that it is only the Humans the Hornets really fear. Fear and hate. And they whispered amongst the stingers that there is a human encroaching in their land. They plan to catch him by surprise, overwhelm him with great numbers and share the spoils among the hives. She did not mention this as it should not be of much importance. But you have a faint smell of the boy. Make sure they do not mistake you for his friend. As they are not known for dialogue.”
Trevor could feel his hair stand up. And cold sweat broke out on his skin. Nancy! He broke into a run. Feeling the land disappear under his paws. She is his to protect! He should have made her come with him. Not foist her off on an unreliable human. Earth be damned. He did not know how to protect her from the stings but he will surely try!
His lungs were burning, and his legs were all but ready to give up when he saw the small forest where he left the mouse. And in the rising sun he could already notice the swarm gathering. A black cloud was churning, draining the burning morning light from the waking sky. He could hear the thousands, no millions of tiny wings raging with anger in their tiny bellies and preparing their painful stings. Even an elephant would not survive the onslaught. The winged demons were but waiting for a sign to strike. “Run for your lives!” He roared. Even he was surprised by the strength of his voice. “Run like death is at your heels.” For indeed it was. Pain and death and agonising one at that.
Luckily they headed him. And the boy was smart. The boy was quick. Before he reached the trees they were on the other side. Running like the wind. But would that be fast enough? One cannot outrun a flying beast. Much less a cloud of roiling insects. They needed a plan. A plan that would save them. But what it could be he did not know. He jumped over the fire the boy had made. Bright indeed he was. Smoke was billowing from it and already it was stretching it’s bright hungry fingers to the nearby tree. Smoke was not a friend of the buzzing crowd. He risked a quick look above. They were angry. Never more than that. But regardless of the number they were afraid. The smoke was stinging at their eyes. The heat was playing with their flight. It will slow them down. But not for much.
A plan, a plan, I need a plan. The Lion rumbled in his head but the only thing that he got back was: ‘Run and run and run again.’
And he did run, and they did run. He caught up to the running boy, grabbed the scared mouse from his back and deftly threw her on his own. And on they ran and on and on. Like there was death at their heels. For indeed it was. And Pain and slow and agonising end.
“They are here for me!” The boy gasped.
“For human flesh.” the Lion weezed. His strength was all but gone. But fear would not let him stop.
“We need a plan.” Came a small voice hidden in his mighty mane.
“Indeed we do my little mouse. Any hidden in your bag?” The Lion gaped just as the sound of churning changed. The hunters saw their prey at least.
“We cannot outrun them. They are too fast. But they cannot handle mud!” Said the boy.
Mud? There was plenty of mud everywhere. But it was mostly dry and useless. Or near the river which while not exhibiting any special signs of scaly hunters was usually not a safe place to wallow. So where else could they run to? The watering hole! It was not too far from where they were. “After me!” And they changed course, dirt flinging under their strides.
It was indeed not far. But it was not close enough. He had it in his sight when he felt the first sting in his hind leg. Cursed on the insects. Had he the skill he would break them into pieces.
“Ou!” Cried the boy, as a particularly nasty beast made contact with his back.
“Ick!” Cried the mouse not letting go of his strong mane. “Hurry please!” But there was not much he could do. “Auch!”
Finally he was at the entrance. And the mud was strong and thick. Rain must have fallen not so long ago. He dived directly onto it, breaking the soft crust and letting the mud soothe his stings. The cold mud felt nice.
“Rub it thick and well!” The boy screamed, slathering himself with fistfulls of the foul smelling thing. It worked indeed. The buzzers caught into the runny slime unable to fly unable to sting anything but mud. He dived back in, rubbing his back and legs. He could hear the mouse next to him trying to do the same. They were safe?
“Get off you fiend” the mouses shriek filled the air. The lion looked at his friend. She was trying, but had a hard time to get the thickness needed to protect her from the stings. He jumped forward a large patch of mud in his paw and covering the mouse with a blob of protective substance.
The boy also jumped into action. Throwing blobs of mud at the swarn. Trevor couldn’t notice if he hit any of the thick roiling hornets, but it certainly made their job harder. But Trevor had eyes only for the small mouse under his paws. He angrily swiped at anything that dared to come closer to her ignoring the few weakened pricks that managed to find their way through his drying protection.
The onslaught continued but less and less attackers managed to come near them. They stayed back, confused, without a plan. The coercion of the swarm slowly broke. Different nests rethinking their chances. And as one particularly well aimed shot dislodged a large part of the central cloud and broke the resolve of the attackers. They would be back. But they moved away to regroup or to find new allays.
“We must move! They will be back!” The boy concluded. Applying a new layer of thick protection on his skin.
“Little Mouse. Are you OK?” The lion nudged the tired looking rodent.
“It hurts.” The mouse squeaked. “It really hurts.”
Lines of concern formed on the Lion’s face, as he gingerly picked up his little friend and carried it to the small body of water where he carefully and gently removed the mud from her body. “There, there little one. You will be fine. It hurts I know. Think of it as medicine for rheumatism later in life.” He counted the number of throbbing stings. Twelve. Not good. Even he would have a hard time shaking off all this poison. How could a little mouse deal with the swelling? The boy looked over his shoulder.
“She is in trouble. We need to treat the stings but not here. They could be back any moment. We need to make sure they can’t find us. And I need to find something to make a salve.” The boy looked around finding his bearings. “This way! I saw some Tulbaghia when I made my camp two days ago.” With that he took some deep breaths and broke into a run. The Lion picked up his friend and, tired as he was, started running after the boy. Were he back home he would go seek council from the wondering Wolverine who often got into similar trouble. But here the only person he could rely on was the unscrupulous hairless monkey. Still what was he to do. He had little experience with treating wounds and he was certain he couldn’t make it to the village in time. “Hold on little mouse. The human has a plan!”
And so they ran till the lion’s mane was slick with his sweat. And his breath was coming out in moist panting streams before the boy stopped at a small recession in the ground. He looked bedraggled and tired but he did not rest instead starting to furiously dig at a small pile of dirt that in seconds turned into ash. “Help me. There. I need those plants.” He pointed to a patch of purple flowers that grew in a roughly crowned shape. “Bulbes and all please.” Trevor gently put down the mouse that was struggling to breathe even if it had not been running. “The boy will make the pain go away.” He whispered and moved to the flowers, digging up the plants with his hands. “Akida will save you.” He murmured as he collected the herbs and deposited them near the boy who was furiously mixing the plants, ashes and some water into a thick paste.
“I make no promises. This will help but it might be too little too late.” He replied, squeezing some of his sweat into the bowl. “She is in the hands of the wandering spirits now. If they decide to give their blessing she will be saved.” He did not continue. “Help me find all the strings. We must apply the poultice. It will drain the poison and neutralise it. But it can’t do much for the venom that already spread to her heart.” And so they worked. Carefully washing each sting and applying the sticky mixture. All the while feeling the mouse getting weaker, her breathing getting shallower and shallower.
“Do not give up!” The lion whispered. “There is still much of the world you need to see. You have not seen the heards. Nor experienced a real adventure. There is so much more I wish to show you.”
The mouse smiled weakly. “I do not wish the time we have together to end. We have but started to know each other. It would not be fair that I finally get to spend time with you and that it should be taken away so quickly.” The last words came out as but a breath.
“Ah little mouse. The plains are vast. There is so much more to explore. So much more I can show you. So much more I want to give.”
The smile on the gray face did not waver, but she never spoke again. It took the Lion a long time to realise that no air was moving the tiny chest. The boy continued to apply the garlic and ash, oblivious to the futility of his toil.
Trevor was surprised. He expected himself to rage. Faced with a loss he expected himself to roar and lash out. But the anger did not come. His loss was too great. Only slow and prevailing emptiness filled his heart. Like somebody slowly drained out the blood from his head. His lungs felt like he dived too deep and just realized he did not have enough air to return to the surface. His vision started to lose focus and while he was staring directly towards the creature in front of him he could see everything but the tiny cooling body. Slowly a stinging tear started to run down his face. It felt like it was made of acid as it burrowed into his cheek and left a permanent scar inside. The boy oblivious was pouring salt on his wound by continuing to administer to the deceased. “Enough!” He rasped out of his constricting throat. “Enough already. It is done.”
The hands didn’t stop. “Enough I said! Let her rest now. She feels no more pain.” The words came out harsher than he expected. The baritone of his voice shaking in an unfamiliar resonance. Gray eyes looked at him surprised. The hands finally realised the affront and jerked away as burned. Fear was written in the posture of the clawles fledging. He could make a meal out of him, but he was not hungry. He felt no malice towards this immature raptor. He will be a scourge on the land when he grows up no doubt, but for now he was but a small rodent lost in a world he was not prepared for. And try as he might he could not assign blame to the meatless thing.
“I feel no need to punish you. Your only sin is that you exist and I will punish no animal for that crime. It would not honor my mandate to do so.”
The skinny worm relaxed a bit, but his hands did not stray far from the handles of his teeth.
“Find some wood and start a fire. I am not in mind to move. And I would have light for this night to keep me company. I would prefer somebody else than an upstart fly, but I have little choice. We need light and some fragrant bark. And I will need your sharpest knife and your sourest arm. Things need doing and they need doing it right. And then we are going west. To see if we can find out more about this Blight. I do not promise to help, but I plan to choke the daylight out of anyone that has anything to do with feeding nonsense into the ears of the wasps.”
He dug a small hole and placed the emaciated body of his friend inside. She looked so frail and weak. He was responsible for her and he failed. He failed miserably. And he failed permanently. Only if they both make it into the fields of clouds they might meet again. And his path to redemption was long and lonely.
“You loved her?” The boy asked.
“Love? Hard to say. More I think. Love is no match for the bond that forms between two spirits joined by fate. Long did we know each other. I would see her scurrying around my house. Always listening to me, her eyes only for me. But I was too proud to acknowledge her feelings. I was too proud to let her into my midst. That is what drove her into this folly. She would follow me for love and I let her for my pride. But the wind be my witness. Were it not for my foolish care for what others think I would have made her part of my pride. And honestly these last few days, when it was just her and me, they were the days I was happiest in the long time.” He looked down at the little thing at his paws. “You are not here any more. But your honor rests with me now. I will strive to make your wishes done. I was too late to accept you. But you always accepted me. In this way you were braver than me. So in your honor I shall strive to be braver than myself.” He dropped his strong shoulders over the resting form. They shook for just an instant before he regained his composure. It was time for private gestures. Only he will know of the things he did. But still grand gestures were not there for others to see. He was the one that needed to admit them to himself. “Do not abuse my trust, little man. I am not certain who is to be punished for all of this. Nor am I in any way in debt to you. But I trust you for this moment. Take your sharpest knife. And remove my mane. Let the sign of my rule cover the meekest of creatures in her final slumber. Hope it will give her peace.” The boy hesitated for just a moment and then a sharp knife materialised in his hand. Small and bright, made of obsidian brought to the tribe from a far and kept in the family for generations. And with a steady hand the long locks started to fall into the hole covering the sad body in warmth that will sustain it for ages jet to come. There were tears in the wielder’s eyes as he maneuvered his tool. But not a single drop of blood was born. The Lion had no tears to shed. Only hair. And that was enough. He did not feel like he was giving her enough, but it was all he had to give, and if it was not enough he could say nothing. She was worth much more. It was him that was not deep enough.
When the boy finished he stood quietly. He could feel he had a question to ask, but was not sure how to broach the subject.
“Spit it out.”
“Would you mind if I shave my hair as well? I did not know her for long. But we talked while you were gone. She was a wonderful person. I know we were not friends, but I would like to honor her still.”
Trevor taught for a while. Would it take away from his sacrifice? It really did not matter. “Do what you feel is right for you.” With that he turned away and dropped his tired body next to the fire. He did not feel like sleeping, but he knew he would need his strength if he was to find his redemption. He forced his thoughts to slow to a crawl, slowly emptying his mind of everything but his controlled breath. He could feel his muscles complaining, but he paid them no mind. He was a king. He was trained as a warrior and hunter. He could control his feelings, his body and his mind. His eyes closed. His body was at rest. His mind was regenerating. Only a small part of his senses was awake. Constantly scanning his environment for any signs of danger.
He could feel the boy when he came from the grave, adding some fuel to the fire and scattering some incense but not uttering a word. The boy attempted to take up guard duty, but the tiredness caught up to his body and he soon dozed off. He paid him little mind. Letting the day fall into night and night turn into a cold morning before stirring again.
As the first rays of the sun broke the darkness The Lion stirred again. He stretched his muscles feeling the regenerated strength. His mind was sharp and rested. There was a small pang of shame and loathing in his heart, but he pushed it away. He did not have time to bother with his shortcomings now. He will leave these for days he will be old and weak. For now it was time for action. He looked over towards the small mound the boy built. It will do. Not many scavengers will dare to disturb a body with the smell of the boy and him on it.
Thinking of the boy he looked at him. He removed hair on his head. Without the shaggy growth that was full of dirt he looked even smaller and weaker. But that was one of the many misleading things about his kind. They looked weak, but could be dangerous if approached in a wrong manner.
He gently swatted the legs folded under a thick blanket. “Time to go boy! We have a long journey in front of us. We should leave before the sun gets too high.”
The boy jumped hugging his bow to his chest, looking around himself trying to make sense of his surroundings. Then the events of the previous morning came to him and his face darkened and saged. Nodding he started to gather the scattered tools around the camp. It didn’t take long. Most of his property attached to his belt. The last thing the boy did was throw some dirt on the coals left by the fire. And just like that he was ready to go. They set off towards the mountains in the distance.
There was not much speaking between the two hunters. Neither of them was willing to talk about their lost friend and they did not have much idea what they were going towards. They observed the land. It indeed looked like there was something wrong with it. The grasses were tall and dry. And while there were a lot of new shrubs and trees cropping up in protected depressions they were strange. They were not the tall straight canopy things that would dot the landscape providing the shade to tired animals. These trees branched in uncanny directions just floating in the air like small strange clouds of green. There was little room at their base as biting shrubs jostled for the meger protection they provided.
And while plants proliferated food was scarce. Bonny rabbits fed on the land but were quick to scatter to their burrows deftly avoiding the boys arrows. There were no birds, as the hyenas implied. Instead squads of insects patrolled the sky. Swiping down to catch their unsuspecting prey. They did not investigate what they were hunting, preferring to stay well away from the hustle of the industrious insects.
The water was scarce hidden in the few watering holes here and there, but even there the mud was mostly undisturbed only showing worn tracks that were days old at best. The Lion was worried. This was not a healthy land. And it did not look like anything could bring it back from the verge of destruction.
Finally on the third day, as they were checking the surroundings of a small watering hole there was a sign of life. Tracks in the mud that were no more than a few hours old. Still wet where a hoof sank under the crust. So someone was still alive in this wasteland. This was not an opportunity to be missed. The Lion quickly followed the scent tracking the creature to the small hole where it dug some tubers and fested on them. It rested in the shade then, digesting it’s meal before it left. They were right on its tail. The boy pulled out a bow and notched an arrow.
“I want to talk to it. So do not be too hasty with your weapon. While we are both hungry I would have news before blood.” The boy nodded, but did not stow the arrow, opting instead to hold the shaft at the grip, relaxed but still ready to draw in mere seconds.
The lion creeped forward keeping his senses sharp. He could follow the broken grasses, avoiding stirring the tops so as to not alert their meal. He could feel the wind creeping over his shoulders keeping him hidden from the sharp senses of the quarry. Soon he was close. He could sense the unwashed sweat of the animal. The muddy texture clinging to the beast protecting it from the sun’s insistent rays. Closing his eyes, guided by touch alone he crept closer until he could all but hear the heartbeat of the catch. They both sprang up at the same moment. It was a mad dash that only lasted a few heartbeats but felt much longer. The boar tried to sweave, but sharp claws grazed the unprotected flank and grabbed hold of the skin. The momentum rotated the hunter and the hunted alike but hunger and will won out and before he knew it he was holding the exposed throat. The fearful heartbeet of the caught pig was mingling with his own adrenaline and he had trouble keeping himself from choking the life out of the victim.
The biped caught up to them, still bewildered by the speed of the event. Still he had enough wits about him to bind the mammals legs with a piece of sturdy rope.
“What do you want with me!” the squeal was not what he expected from his catch, but it was a good sign.
“Calm yourself. We just want to talk.”
“Some way to talk! I am bleeding from my flanks. My ribs are bruised from the rough sport. Had you just wanted directions you could have asked.”
“Would you have given them or would you burrow in your hole pretending you did not exist. Besides if I am not happy with your answers I can still decide to eat you.”
“Ha. I am no fool. I know what happens to my kind when caught by a hungry cat.”
“I will not lie. My stomach is rumbling. But what do you plan to do? If you do not talk I am sure to gnaw on your bones. If you talk,… Well there is always hope.”
The tusked beast visibly resigned to it’s fate. “Ask your questions, cat. I will help if I can. I was long in this land. More than I deserve and I am lonely here. Might as well end it fast than wait for my bones to start grinding against each other. Or worse, getting caught by the hunting insects. Must be a bad way to go.”
The boy quietly released the legs of their captive. There was no struggle in him.
“Tell me. What do you know of the bugs.”
“Know? Little. I know they receive messages from the west. What they are I can only guess. But I doubt they are urging them to peace.”
“From the west? You sure?”
“Every other week. It’s not hard to spot the bastards. Big as mice and loud. They talk to the nests and then continue further east, after they have fed on the sweet water the nests provide. But they do not seem to return. That is strange to me. But I have no plan to figure out where they are going. Perhaps they die carrying their message. What do I know? Or care?”
“They speak of the Blight?”
“They do, after the messenger flies off. Before they listen. But it’s not loud enough to hear from afar. And I am not inclined to test my skin against their stings.”
“So, if we were to go to the west. What are we to expect?”
“How am I to know? Mountains? What else? I imagine more nests. And whatever is sending the black wings.”
“Not all that useful.”
“Haha. What did you expect? I root in the ground. I am not a spy. You want some real knowledge of the Wasps, talk to the bats. They are the only ones who dare to oppose them. They are gearing up for a fight. But it’s a lost cause. Sure they can take out a nest during the night, but what does that prove. For each they take down, five others spring up.”
“Bats are still around?”
“Plenty of life around, if you know where to look. Badgers fund their nish in killing the sleeping nests, catching rabbits in their holes and munching on the sweet fruit when they can. Aardvarks have waged their war on ants for so long that their nests are hard to find. Polecats prowl the land minding their own business. But they know more than they are willing to admit. I can hear them murmorig amongst themselves each night gathering in small covens hither and thither. They are planning something. But I doubt it’s of any use to anybody but themselves. Bushbabies are still around. But they stopped making their senseless noise since they are afraid for their lives. And then there are the undisputed champions of this land. The Pangolins roam far and wide looking for somebody to blame. But they are too slow. They went over to the mountains to search for the cause. But it’s hard to say if they jet live or have fallen. No news of them has been heard, at least not by me, but none have returned so they did not win.”
“They are all night creatures.”
“It’s easier for them I guess.”
“And of your kin? Do any still live?”
“None I have heard of. Months past one lived in the west. But he got taken out by the bugs. So there. I might be the last of my kind.”
“That really breaks my heart. It is hard to lose all of your friends.” And just like that the Linon grabbed the neck of the pore warthog and in less than a minute squeezed the life out of him. The piglet didn’t really fight. Only at the very end, when his mind couldn’t control he jerked for a bit. But by then he was much too weak to do anything.
They had dined well. The human child seemed to be hesitant at first regarding the cooking of the pork, but did eventually get to working on the carcass, skinning it and preparing the meat. Baking some and smoking the rest. Trevor ate the liver raw, but waited for the boy to cook the meat not wanting to gnaw on the sinuous meat.
“So paths open up for us?” The Lion began, looking at the boy work at the meal. “The Bats, the Pangolins, Badgers or Polecats? Or we can just continue blind.”
“Pangolins are on the other side of the mountains. So asking their help is as much going in blind as it can get. I’ve hunted bats with my friends. They fly at night and it’s impossible to catch them with slings. But if you make a net they are easy to trick. Still while they are masters of the night in many ways they are known for their fickle ways. They might claim they are in the business of fighting the wasps, but it’s hard to say how long that will last. But they might be invaluable allies were you able to convince them to fight by your side.
Polecats I do not know. But if they are anything like cats it’s unlikely they would be of much use. They mind their own business joining others only because it’s expedient to their goal. I can’t really see them as a force to be reckoned with. A Badger could be a good friend to have. They are strong and brave as far as I know. But most of our stories are about them digging deep holes under the mountains and not dealing with the world until the world encroaches into their tunnels. Aardvarks? I do not even know what they are.”
“Aardvarks are brave and strong. And their claws are dangerous. Relentless in their hunt for the ants they feed on. They might make a good ally. But I have not interacted with them overmuch. They keep to themselves and while their meat is good they are hard to tackle. And they show great disinclination to chat with the rest of the kingdom. I do not know how they would fare against skymongers but we might ask them for news. Bats I have talked to, and I find their voices singularity annoying. I know of no cave in the vicinity where to find them, so unless we chance upon one of them I see no way of talking to them. Now polecats I disagree with you. They are not cats. They are closer to weasels in look and action. Couning, strong and good hunters. And while solitary they keep in contact by meeting or by sending messages in their strange sounds. So they definitely know what is going on in the wider word. So they would be my first choice. I like the badgers and had a few nice talks with them, but I would be hard pressed to say just how useful they can get. They are fierce fighters, never backing down and I have no doubt they could take on whatever the west throws at them, but their nature of never backing down makes it hard to convince them to change their approach and more often than not they just do their own thing no matter what you say. Not someone you can negotiate with.”
“I’ll defer to you then, as you seem to know them much better than I do.” The boy stretched on the ground. Waiting for the meat to bake. The smell of the sizzling fat was intoxicating, but they both knew they should wait.
“I suggest we wait for the night then. I’ll try and keep my ears open then. Listening to their cries and perhaps we can track a group of them and try to convince them to talk to us. But I warn you. Do not go close to them and do not startle them..”
“And if they do not wish to talk to us?”
“We can’t catch them like we did this guy. Too cautious. They have a nasty trick up their slieve and you do not want to experience it first hand. So just follow my lead and let’s hope they will listen to reason.”
“We still have no idea what is happening do we?”
“We do not even know if the bees have anything to do with the distortion of the land. Or if that has anything to do with your forest. Or indeed if the change is for the better or not.”
“You can still doubt this? The land is all but dead?”
“No little one. The land is changing. Drastically. It is teaming with life. It’s just that it is a new kind of life. One that we have not dealt with before. Nature is not good nor evil. It just iis. And it will remain so, long after our paws are but an imprint in a rock. The old king dies and a new king arrives. It has always been so. My father had to journey to the stars before it was my turn to take up the mantle. So it shall be with me. It is not on me to dispute that. If I am the last of my line it is all in the service of chance.”
“I can’t decide if you are wise or foolish.”
“Why can I not be both? Pass me the meat. I think it has charred enough. I like some blood to remain.”
And so they munched and waited for the sun to set. It did that with the exceeding patience of one who will remain in the sky long after the land is turned to sand. Sinking over the mountains, and making them shine in a prophetic red. The two companions gazed on them impassively. Knowing full well that it could be their fate it was predicting or the fate of whatever was waiting for them on the other side. But neither of them said anything. They waited for the rays to disappear. They waited still for the crickets to start their nightly song and for the shadows in the night to stirr. Only then did they hear a distant quieter undulating call. Several similar rose to great the first.
“They are wishing each other good night and good hunting.” The lion whispered, straining his ears. He slowly rotated his head, trying to gauge location and distance: “They are not that far away I think. And if my senses not deceive me they are planning to meet. Come!”
They padded slowly towards the meeting place. Not making noise, but not trying to be stealthy. Youst two animals on their business. When he judged they were close enough, Trevor spoke: “Greetings fellow hunters.” He tried to make his voice as smooth as possible, as silky as it could get and as sweet as honey. “We would speak to you, if you do not mind.”
There was an urgent scattering and some whispering. Then finally a small voice spoke. “Speak then, if you wish. Start by saying who you are and what brings you to our crossway? We are not prone to trading with strangers.”
“We bring you meat from a boar we caught. And all we ask in return is a few moments of your time.”
The boy, feeling the nudge of the mighty paw quickly rummaged around his belt and found some meat throwing it into the general vicinity of the speaking voice. This was followed by a quick scurrying, some chewing and finally after a satisfied sigh a different voice spoke. “Long has it been since I tasted such lovely meat. There is little to find around but hare and bugs. Even mice have found a different home. And they were never my favourite. We are listening, what can we do for you?”
“It has come to my attention that you are not happy with the current state of affairs and are looking to do something about it. We come offering our services in your endeavors, if you so desire. For a price.”
“Huuuuu. You would like to offer your services to us? And what can you do? There is little use for hunters nowadays with all the game long since gone. I doubt you can do much to scare off the stingers. So what can you do, that we would engage your services.”
“The stingers are not the issue. The black messengers that feed their bellies with hate are. Are you going to fight their master?”
“You aim to take on the King of the West? Huuuu, huuu, huuu, huuu, huuu.” The sound came from several directions. Well more than the three animals that they started with were now listening. They were surrounded by a large tribe. “Do you even know what you are dealing with?”
“Do you?”
“Seen him. No. But I know he is big. His bite is poisonous. And his hair can be thrown, blinding and burning his opponents. And he has a royal guard around him that obeys his every whim. Not a force to be trifled with. Few enough are beasts that would dare to trifle with him. Even the mighty Lion had been slain by him when he faced him.”
Trevor stiffened, bud did not dare utter a sound for fear of losing his composure. Luckily the boy took over seamlessly. “We heard not of this battle. When did it happen? How did it start?”
“Huuu. Having second thoughts? I know not when it happened. But I know that the old king went over the mountain and he didn’t return. And not long after that the King of the West came forth. He never said anything about killing The Lion, but he didn’t deny it. And while your friend is big, he is no Lion. The old king was bigger and more athletic than this hairless runt by your side.”
“It is not size that makes the beast, as you well know. Else you would have defeated the Hornets long ago. But let us not dwell on the minutia. We aim to challenge the King. It is not right what is happening to the land.”
“You speak big words boy but I find you lacking in action. What can you do? Bore him to death with your words? Tire him out with your speeches? I see little muscle on your body and no claws.”
“And you lot have precious enough wit.” Finally spoke The Lion. “As the boy said enough of this banter. I plan to take down this king for what he has done to my friend. And I plan to find out if it is his doing what happened to the land of my ancestors. If you have care for this place you will help with words and actions. We need to know where the Pretender is hiding so I can take him down a notch. I need to know of these companions of his that protect him and I need to find someone willing to fight, as I do not have an eternity to mow through the ranks of minor foes.” He slowly paced in an increasing circle as he increased his volume. “So tell me dear friends. Are you cats or mice? I have you pegged as creatures of great cunning. I have seen bigger animals avoid you, and I have seen fools rune away from you crying as you showed them what bravado tastes like.” He sat in the middle of the now quite sizable number of animals. “I know you are cunning and smart. You fear the ruler of the west? Fine! No need to engage him directly. I need ears more than I need brawn. I need my message carried widely but discreetly. I need agents to meet me. To tell me what is going on and to distract the enemies so I can pass unhindered through their ranks. Dealing with the False ruler is my business – altho I will not say no to any information I can gather before facing him head on.”
“Huuuuu. You would have us be your spies? The shadows that darken the night? And what is in it for us?”
“What is your price?”
Again the whispering started and it lasted a long time. They could understand not a word of their mumbling language. But soon a word started to be repeated more and more. Manwe, Manwe, Manwe. Was whispered in sporadic clusters. Finally a different voice spoke. “There is little you can give. And we are not prone on gambling on your chance of success. So we would have something you can do for us. A small favour that will take but little of your time but will make us inclined to help you. And it will bring you closer to achieving your goal.”
“I like not this flowery language. Spit it out. What would you have me do so I can decide if my time is better spent elsewhere.”
“There is said that there is a spring in the mountains. It gushes forth in clean bubbles and white foam. It is said that long ago the princess of our people was tricked by a mischievous marmot into following him in his burrow. But just as she was about to catch him the miscreant collapsed his burrow trapping her with him underground.”
“A am no digger of tunnels…”
“Do not jump to conclusions! The lady was trapped in the tunnel unable to find her way out. But all was not lost, as the neerdowell assumed. She removed her stripes and changed them into a stream of water. The water dug a tunnel for her and she swam to safety. But once she was out she could not change the stream back! So our future hope was without her beautiful stripes she was too ashamed to return to her people and instead journeyed west into the land that is now ruled by the insects and their ilk.”
The Lion raised his eyebrow. “I have a hard time understanding what I can do if anything at all. I cannot change a stream into fur.”
“Not required. Our people did her an injustice then. We should have come and helped her. Got her to return to her people, but we just left her to her own. It was her mothers wish that she become wiser and stronger in strife. The daughter of our queen followed the stream, not wishing to leave her fur behind. And eventually she got to a river on the other side of the mountains. She settled there and had a litter of pups, all without the stripes. We fear that the way we treated her she might have joined her forces with the Dark King. We need you to convince her to leave his service and turn against him.”
“Turning a stream to fur sems an easier thing to achieve.” Muttered the boy.
“Not so little monkey. Not so. You see. Not long ago her mother was defending her cubs. She defeated the evil but was mortally wounded. Her last act was to remove her mask, the symbol of her power, and bit us her people to give it to the wisest and strongest of her daughters. Not one of us would declare her anything but. Give her this mask and she will know it belongs to her and she should protect her people. And she will. She is her mothers child. Once she returns to us the spooks of the night will be in your corner. We will trigger our cells all over the land and cause great disruption in the enemy camps. There will be chaos in the field and our agents will swoop down and mop up what remains of the resistance. You will have as clear a path as we can make it to the Shadow that rules the west.”
“I have a condition.”
“Your bargaining position is weak, but speak.”
“I would have your scouts help me find her. And look for other allies in the meantime. If I am dealing with your queen to be I need you to talk to the bats and convince them to talk to me. And if you can I would have a sit down with the rest of those that still hold to the memory of the land as it once was. Find me the Aardvarks, The Badgers and The Pangolins. Lead me to them so I can gather their strength and we can crash with the evil that infested our land.”
“We can do something. Discreetly. We would not be seen as openly opposing the King just jet. But we can ask. We can coerce. We can lead. We can even give you some tips on how to deal with each of them. But remember the wrath of the Stingers is on you. We will not be seen acting.”
“Fair enough. More than I hoped to achieve.” The Lion picked up the mask of the queen and set it on his face. To a collective gasp from the shadows it stuck to his face, making him look alien and dangerous indeed. “Now enough talk. It seems I need to travel west. Over the mountains. I must find someone to fight, for my claws are itching and I have friends to make.” With that he turned and sauntered off, the boy on his heel.
They traveled mostly in silence, I both milling over what they have learned. It was disturbing thought that somebody would abuse the disappearance of the Lion to further his goals. But What they heard regarding their enemy was also strange. The monster they envisioned was a fierce enemy. And even if they lied about their exploits what they did hear was still fierce.
“What do you think of our chances?” The boy finally asked. “I am fearful for the first time since leaving my home. It is not a calming thing to know so little of your enemy. And what we do not know is even stranger. How did he send the deziese onto the land? And what is his plan? So many questions, so little answers. And what answers we get they just pose more questions.”
“That is the way of the world. Life never gives you answers but mostly questions. You are the one that must find the answers.”
“You are strange. You sound like a wise old man, but at the same time you act like an angry youth.”
“A am neither of these things. I am the Lion. I am the king of the land. Old and wise, brave and strong. I was entrusted with the protection of the steppe and the forests, the rivers and the watering holes. I realize now I failed in my duty. But I plan to make things right if it is possible. That is how my line is. And how my clan will continue.”
“It is good, I think. If everyone took responsibility for their mistakes the world would be much better.”
“Not everybody has the strength. Sometimes the weight of responsibility is too much to bear and people just hide their head in the sand. It is sad. They should be pitied not hated. Weakness is not something you should punish people for. You should support them so they are stronger and they can deal with future problems by themselves.”
“How old are you?”
“I am not old. But at the same time time has little meaning to my kind. It is your forefathers who invented the concept of time. We just are. And will remain so.”
“Are you immortal?”
“I have not died yet. That is all I can say. I do not deal with these questions. Only your ancestors deal with them. There has always been a Lion. There has always been a king. There has always been the old King. It is impossible for human kin to understand this. You and I are made from a different cloth.”
“A man in my village claimed his ancestors were lions.”
“Who am I to say otherwise?”
“He was nothing like you. He mostly tried to boss everybody around. He would scream at anybody who disagreed with him. He would turn violent when drunk and would try to get into fights. Not many people could deal with him. And I do not think anybody respected him.”
“He might be a Lion then. It sounds like me when I was young. But hard to say.”
Just then they heard a noise in the bush. Someone was approaching them, making a racket like a herd of elephants. The Lion inhaled deeply trying to identify the smell, but could not. What could be making this racket?
“Heyy, Heyy, Heyy. Wait for me. Iii have important information to conveyy.”
The Lion remembered these sounds from his life in the prairie. He knew the owners were making them night after night. But he did not find them interesting. In fact he usually found their insistent whining tiresome. And they were not nice to eat. He stopped and turned towards the rushing noise.
“Heyy, heyy, heyy. Good, kind sirs. I have come as I was told. To help good sirs I’ve come to guide and give guidance! I have knowledge of the hills and heights.”
“You have knowledge of a whining voice.” The Lion mumbled under his breath.
“He sounds like a yawning baby.” The boy commented back.
“It is uncanny is it not? That is why I never associated with them. Part of me wants to cuddle with them and another part knows it would hurt for days if I tried.” Commented Trevor.
“So kind and caring sirs. I would direct and give directions over the mountains and ranges. Telling you all I can about the hosts and the ghosts on the other side. Come, come, fair and friendlyy sirs and lords. Let me show you the wayy and the road.”
With that the spiny creature sauntered off, shaking it’s long pointy back side at them.
“I will tell you all we have managed to learn of the monstrous and devious king. All I tell you! So listen up and listen well, for I have a long and sorted storyy to conveyy.”
The boy and the lion followed in a bemused silence. Looking at the hypnotic shaking of the posterior.
“It was not long after the locust flight and flight that we realized something was terriblyy wrong and amiss. So we conveyed, gathered our heads in a meeting and hashed trough what was going on and about. And much was talked about and discussed.”
“And little enough was actually said if I am any judge.” Murmured the lion. But their guide paid him no mind.
“And we decided that things must be explored and evaluated. And so we formed a commission that took a good look at all the stories of the land of the west. We talked to all who would listen, all who would care and made some strange and wonderful findings.” The animal happily cooed to itself. “Indeed we did. The porcupines found and discovered out all they could and and fine and interesting things came about.”
“I am having trouble understanding him. What is he trying to say? Did they get useful information or not? And what is it?” Asked the boy.
“What? O I have no idea. I can’t focus on what he is saying. I am hoping somebody will give us a synopsis at some point.” Answered the lion, looking meaningfully at the boy.
“Ah, yes, yes.” continued the creature in front. “An easy path leads over the mountains. Hidden from sight it winds over the screaming river, winding it’s way past the roaring and screaming falls and finding a path under the cover and shade of trees to the other side where the green river starts it’s ponderous descend into the plane. There I will take you and we shall say our goodbyes and farewells, for I dare not go any further. But I am told that another will find and meet you and give you directions.”
“
