John Burkitt - The Spirit Quest

“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.”

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.

Rafiki stepped forward slowly and peered intrestedly at the cub nestled next to Sarabi’s chest. The tiny head turned and looked up at him, the young eyes open now and staring up at him with a wonder that delighted the mandrill. Sarabi smiled at him and nodded, and he picked the cub up gently, feeeling the child’s purring in his hands as he held him to his chest. He looked up as Mufasa and Sarabi for a moment, then turned and headed toward the end of the promontory. Reaching the end, he looked with awe at the assemble throng of life which spread before him. The sight took his breath away, and he held the cub out for all to see. “May the wind blow kindly on you,” he said softly, as the crowd below burst forth in jubilation. “May the sun shine brightly on you. May the gods take you to their heart.”

As if in answer, the clouds above parted, a brilliant shaft of light shining down directly upon him, dazzling his eyes. A golden nimbus surrounded the cub he held in his hands, and he stared in wonder and joy as the animals below knelt in reverence.

At last, he lowered the child and held him for a moment, then returned him to Sarabi’s loving arms. She smiled radiantly and nuzzled him. “Thank you, Rafiki.”

Mufasa nuzzled his son once more, then turned and descended the rocks carefully, his good mood fading. He had an unpleasant visit to make.

Some distance away, a small mouse lay flailing madly at the empty air in panic, her tail trapped in between two enormous claws. Taka stared across the gap between himself and the rodent, feeling as though he had been set aflame. Slowly, he turned the mouse this way and that, noting idly how the light glinted off the beady black eyes, now spread wide in panic.

“Life’s not fair, is it?” he queried the struggling mouse. “For you see, I...well, I shall never be king.” He uttered a grunting laugh, then looked at his captive in mock commiseration. “And you..will never live to see the light of another day.” Chuckling lowly, he spread his jaws, fangs gleaming in the morning light. “Adeiu.” He closed his eyes and extended his tongue expectantly, preparing to savor the delightful crunch the rodent would make before she was swallowed whole.

A voice which had begun to annoy him increasingly of late spoke from behind him. “Didn’t your mother tell you not to play with your food?” Zazu glared at Taka, who lowered the mouse, sighing with exasperation.

“What do you want?” he rumbled.

“I’m here to announce that King Mufasa’s on his way,” Zazu informed him gleefully. “So you’d better hava a good excuse for missing the ceremony.”

Taka’s claws flexed angrily, and he felt the mouse struggle free of his grip. The creature scurried acros the floor into a crack and was gone. “Oh, now look, Zazu, you’ve made me lose my lunch,” he growled angrily.