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“You are not simple. You’re a whole lot wiser than I am.”

Rafiki shook his head vehemently. “No! A whole lot older, I’ll grant you.”

Mufasa shifted uncomfortably. “You are gifted, Rafiki. You can see the future. Can’t you tell me what the right course will be?”

“Ah, so that’s it.” He grunted as he sat down on a low rock. “Come here, my boy.”

Mufasa obligingly padded over and sat next to him. Rafiki reached up and patted Mufasa’s shoulder. “Gods, you have grown. I still remember the young cub who used to come to me for jerky.”

“It was good, too,” Mufasa said.

“Let me give you something to chew on that is not as tasty, but fills the empty spirit.” Rafiki leaned forward. “Mufasa, it is better not to be tied to the future. It is the natural way of things to happen as they will. Your brother is bound to the future. It has crept around him like a small vine. But look what happens as the vine gets larger.” He took out one of his walking sticks, the top of which was coiled and curved. “It will grow to dominate your life, and twist your path in many directions. You will stop ACTING and go through life REACTING. You will be like a stone that lies around helplessly, waiting to see where the future will toss it next.”

Mufasa sighed. “I guess you’re right. I just...I’m afraid of making the wrong choices.” He looked at Rafiki, his face open and honest as ever. “I don’t want to ruin someone’s life because of an ill-thought decision.”

The words stung Rafiki. He had a vivid recollection of young Taka cringing in the corner of the old baobab, crying out in terror: “No! Tell me it’s not so!” He gasped and dropped his staff.

Mufasa blinked and peered at him. “Are you OK?”

Rafiki took a deep breath. “I’m fine, my boy. I don’t think it is wise for me to coach you on every small decision. Still, I don’t guess it would hurt THIS ONCE to look out for a major crisis?” Rafiki took a deep breath and let it out slowly. “Meet me at my tree this evening. Come alone. Tell no one.”

The time seemed to drag on interminably. Zazu made several reports to him which Mufasa only half heard, his mind on the coming evening.

Rafiki was also restless. He spent his time in prayers and preparation. Set lovingly by the scrying bowl was a large dose of deadly euphractus. At the first sign of trouble, he would take it immediately and silence himself forever. No more would the makei use him as a weapon against the ones he loved.

Mufasa found himself urging the sun to hurry along its path in the sky. Finally, the cool of evening encroached upon the land, and Mufasa excused himself from the others. Slipping quietly into the night, he wended his way along well known paths through the grassland until he reached the soaring baobab. Rafiki greeted him warmly, then bade him wait outside.

Rafiki entered his home and crossed to where his scrying bowl sat, the surface of the water lightly rippled by the slight breeze that blew through his home.

“Mano protect us. Mano equip us. Mano, we thank you.” Completing his prayers, he sat crosslegged before the bowl. The water rippled a moment longer, then stilled. Rafiki felt a pulling sensation, then all went dark.

He drifted in the darkness, floating calmly. This was only the beginning of the process, and sometimes it felt like it took hours before the vision would appear. Impatience only disturbed concentration and slowed the process down, so he relaxed and waited.

Abruptly the darkess took on a deeper tone, and fear began to make him shiver. The cold of death, more icy than an arctic wind, brushed him slowly. He felt a dragging sensation, pulling at him inoxerably with a grip of iron. He jerked away as two eyes flared alight in the darkness in front of him, a cold light emenating from them which illuminated nothing. Pain awoke in his hands, slamming up his arms in a wave of agony. Suddenly the eyes vanished, along with the dragging sensation, and he tumbled helplessly through the dark, crying out in fear as unseen shapes began to buffet him mercilessly in a frightful current of invisible force...

And then he opened his eyes to see the bowl of water shimmering in the bright moonlight that seeped through the leaves of his home. Shuddering with the reaction, he sat for a moment, composing himself. “Mufasa?”

The lion appeared quickly. He started to speak, but cut himself off, staring at the mandrill’s wan expression. “Are you all right? You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

Rafiki laughed shakily. “I’m supposed to see ghosts, my boy. That’s my job, remember?” He put out a hand to push himself off the floor, but winced. Pain throbbed in his hands as he looked at the bloodless gashes that perforated the backs of his hands. They faded even as he watched, but the pain left slowly.

Mufasa glanced down curiously. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing. Just a little mifupa setting into these old bones.” He flexed his hands gingerly. “I had a strange vision-”

Mufasa held up a paw, the gesture so like his father’s it broke Rafiki’s heart. “Hold, my friend. I was thinking while I was waiting down there about what you said to me earlier. I don't want to know. I want to make my own destiny.”

Rafiki relaxed, smiling slightly. “And you said you weren’t wise.” He placed an arm around Mufasa’s shoulders. “All right, but let me give you this little bit of advice: some of us are destined for long life. Others are not. But a little caution never shortened anyone’s time.”

“Sound advice for a king,” Mufasa grinned. “Thank you, my friend.” He started to turn away, but paused. “Are you sure you don't need to tell me something? You looked awfully scared.”

“No, my friend.” Rafiki put his arms around Mufasa’s neck and gave him a quick hug. “I worry about you sometimes. Just a foolish old ape with the jitters, I guess.” He backed away and flapped his arms at the huge lion as though he was shooing a fly. “Now beat it. Sassie’s probably waiting for you.”

“Well, since you put it like that...” Mufasa chuckled as he headed away into the night. Rafiki watched him go, then lifted his throbbing hands to his face again, his smile fading as he looked at the red spots that remained.

The next day, Rafiki led Uzuri aside. “I was wondering if you could perform a favor for me.”

“Certainly.”

“Shhhh! Quietly. Should Mufasa go with you on your hunts, please be careful. I don’t want to see anyone get hurt out there.”

“I am careful on every hunt, no matter who goes.” She shrugged, lionlike, by flicking her tail. “Still, it won’t hurt to bear extra caution.” She peered at him warily. “Why? What is wrong?”

“Just a feeling.” He sighed, then patted her shoulder. “Not to worry; I doubt much will come of it.”

CHAPTER 43: FAMILY MATTERS

The warm sunlight backlit the mandrill as he walked through the crowd of animals, stretching his shadow out before him in a wavering line. Rafiki nodded and smiled at the familiar faces as he made his way through the throng, the creatures parting before him in a living wave. Reaching the foot of Pride Rock, he began climbing the steep rocks carefully, finding a grip easily in the time worn stone as he ascended.

His arm curled up and over, laying flat upon the surface of the promontory as he hauled himself up. Gaining his balance, he lifted his head and saw the hulking form of Mufasa sitting there, awaiting him. The wind ruffled Mufasa’s mane lightly as a smile spread across his face. Rafiki grinned back at him, setting his staff down and embracing his old friend. The two stood there for a moment, then they both turned to look behind Mufasa.

Sarabi lay quietly, her forepaws wrapped around the small furry bundle that had become the center of her universe. As Mufasa came to stand beside her, she nuzzled him, burying her face in the soft tresses of his mane. Their purring blended in a soft rumble as they looked down at what their love had brought forth into the world.