Chapter 29: This Land

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(Heshima's POV)

By far the most horrible think I had bare witness to was seeing a father and son, fighting to kill each other. One whom I considered a son, a student, and a friend. The other, the king of a foreign land, one whom had once brought balance to the circle of life.

"Lions and Cheetahs will perish in battle, or mourn their dead kings." I repeated silently in my head,

"Scar, your lust for destruction has chased my kind far from our home." I growl,

"Haha, you don't see it do you! This land belongs to me! It always has!" He scoffs,

He turns away to face my coalition and his pride, locked in another gruesome stalemate,

"I have perfected my vision of this land, and for the incompetencies of those whole I ruled in my first life, I will tear it apart piece by piece!"

"Incompetencies? My allegiance was always to the Pridelands! To the circle of life!"

"No, it was always to your coalition, when it should have been to me!"

Lightning suddenly crashes, and I see the flash in his eyes...

He thrusts his body rearword and charges me, lucky for me I happen to be faster than him.

"Insolent pest! I will slay you just like the pathetic weaklings that tainted my land all those years ago!" He yelled as he charged me again,

This time I wasn't so fast, he landed a strong swipe on my side, opening up an ugly wound. Not without me clawing at his shoulder, leaving a series of deep cuts.

"Simba! I know your in there! And Kion did to!" I scream at him as I regain my footing,

"Simba and Kion are both dead. They were weak, and the weak shall be silenced."

(Simba's POV)

The fire and flame inside my spirit raged against the two sides constantly fighting with one another. As if I was deep beyond the border of hell.

"Stop fighting him Scar!" I roared in my thoughts,

"Silence yourself weakling!"

He yelled back, sending crippling pain through my body and spirit, the blackness of my mind creating a clear image of the demon that was my uncle in front of me.

He looked as if he was one with the land, seemingly as though part of his body was made of stone, and his scar lit with fire.

"Why do you just now decide to present yourself to me?" I ask,

"Simba, Simba, Simba. Oh how you've forgotten." He laughs,

"Forgotten what?"

"I will live forever, as long as fear can be instilled by the mention of my name. And by the looks around us, I'm finally back."

'This can't be real...' I think to myself,

"Cut the flesh on your arm and see if it is, my little nephew."

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