The idea of rational fiction is to rewrite a story from a rationalist's point of view, and see what changes from there. Of course, there is only one lion in the Pridelands smart enough to fit the bill…

Samsara is the Buddhist cycle of death, suffering and rebirth which we must ultimately escape from, and which I imagine the Circle of Life was roughly based on.

(Cover art: Scar and simba from DeviantArt, by Wickfield)

"Scar! Help me!"

For once in his life Mufasa's proud face was marred by genuine horror, his eyes wide with fear not for his family or his subjects but for his own unsightly life. His nails dragged along the cliff face as he vainly sought purchase on the unforgiving rock, raw primordial terror taking over and fuelling his body with a desperate animalistic frenzy just as it would for any other beast.

It was sights like these that put Scar into a contemplative mood.

You see, it had not always been the case that Scar was up there, posing majestically upon the cliff's edge and gazing down at his poor downtrodden older brother. In fact, until recently it could be said that the opposite had frequently been the case! It felt almost like yesterday, when Mufasa had so magnanimously explained to him the many ways in which his innate superiority, their parents' favouritism and divine ancestry justified his absolute rule over all living things, including Scar himself.

"Brother, help me! I'm slipping!"

It had, in fact, been exactly four days, three hours and forty-six minutes ago. Scar did not bother counting seconds, because he was a big-picture guy.

"Scar! I am to inform you that His Royal Highness is on his way, so you'd better be prepared!"

"What is it now, Zazu?" Scar looked up drowsily from the cool stone resting spot which his brother had so graciously granted him access to. "Unless the cave is about to collapse in on me, I don't want to hear about it until lunch." He yawned and languidly stretched his spindly body, before directing his best predatory grin at the red-beaked hornbill. "Or did my brother send you here to serve as the entrée?"

Scar honestly did not know what he had done to raise Mufasa's hackles this time. He had been playing nice, even going as far as to show up for the presentation of Simba back when the little hairball was born. It was not like he had much of a choice: Even if the entire continent had gathered there to celebrate his renewed irrelevance, he could hardly afford to make any more enemies than he already had.

"Hah, no." Zazu clacked his beak in dry amusement. For all that the royal majordomo was a jumped-up gofer he possessed at least a modicum of humour, which was more than could be said for the rest of them. "His majesty wishes to discuss your recent transgressions with you. I took the liberty of clearing the next few days of your agenda – unless of course you don't want to stick to just the highlights?"

"That's enough, Zazu." A shadow passed between them as a silhouette entered the cave, his muscled form and crimson mane outlined in gold by the light pouring in from outside. "Scar. What is this I'm hearing about you calling the Circle of Life into question, right in front of my subjects and my own son?"

A flash of annoyance overtook Scar's features despite himself. That had not been part of any scheme of his, but mere idle talk with a couple of lionesses after sharing a good meal beneath the stars. He had been in one of his rare good moods, but even so he should have known better than to think he could let his guard down without suffering repercussions. "Mufasa. Don't tell me the captain of the Lion Guard is no longer allowed to discuss philosophy with his kin?"

His brother stared at him with that all-too-familiar disapproving frown, plainly trying to figure out the hidden motivations behind a scheme that did not exist. "Scar, you cannot tell me that you don't understand something that even my son has had explained to him. The Circle of Life is what connects all living creatures in the kingdom and guides every aspect of our lives. Without it, we are just… animals."

Scar felt his lips tug into a lazy smirk. "A noble sentiment, coming from someone at the very top of the food chain. Tell me: Have you ever managed to convince an antelope of this while you're eating them?"

"Hah, I never figured you for a vegetarian." Zazu hopped as close to Scar as he dared, then took a few hurried steps back when he smelled his breath. "Herbivores are not exactly the brightest stars of the animal kingdom, you know – a diet of grass hardly lends itself to a steady production of protein." He raised his beak and sniffed. "I mean, have you ever tried holding a meaningful conversation with a zebra?"

"I'll admit those interactions tend to degrade to screaming pretty quickly," Scar said with a slight smile.

Mufasa let out a long-suffering sigh. "Scar, when we die, our bodies are consumed by plants and insects, just like any other creature. Even we lions are not so different – for all that you would like us to be."

"Hmm, yes," said Scar. "That is a bit of a downer, isn't it? But antelopes are eaten by worms too, and they're hunted down and mauled to death by ravenous lions. It, ah, seems to me they still get the short end of that particular stick." There was an ire slowly building up inside of Scar, as it always did when this topic came up. His was not the fiery spirit of a young cub, however, that burned brightly but faded just as quickly. These were smouldering embers left behind by countless brushfires, waiting for the slightest kindling to reignite as a truly terrifying inferno. "And then there are the Hyenas," he continued. "They are not herbivores, but they are still forced to live off scraps in an elephant graveyard. Unfortunate situation, that."

"Hyenas?" Zazu looked like he had just swallowed a cockroach – though in fact he would have probably quite enjoyed that. "You'd let those slobbery, mangy, boneheaded scavengers into our kingdom? They have no culture, no education to speak of, and no capacity for restraint whatsoever. They'd just eat our food, reproduce past any sustainable limit, and what's worse my nest's property value would go to pot."

Scar shrugged his bony shoulders. "Oh, I'm not questioning our natural superiority, Zazu. Just, ah… I detect a certain incongruity in using the heavenly samsara of murder and torment as justification for our oppressive regime, and calling it the Circle of Life." He grinned without any trace of humour. "Have we considered naming it the Circle of Death instead? It's a tad more evocative."

Mufasa's frown deepened. "Scar, death is just as much a part of life as birth, no different in essence from the time before you were born. I would have thought you put that childish fear aside a long time ago."

"Ah, yes, I remember having this conversation." His fury was reaching that point where it went beyond being any mere part of him, and instead transcended into a festering blackness that consumed the entirety of who he was. He walked past Mufasa, making sure to brush close enough to be disrespectful, and gestured towards the tiny figure that stood hidden in the cave's entrance. "Still, how did you put it? I find it hard to believe that something which even a child can understand would be beyond you."

"Simba," Mufasa said to the figure. "What are you doing here? I told you not to eaves-drop anymore."

"I'm sorry." the young cub meekly flattened his ears and his head against the ground. "I was just…"

"Just curious," Scar finished, "as is only right and proper for a lad!" He placed one paw around Simba's shoulders, eliciting a strangled mew as he nearly squished his lithe little body in the process. "My dear boy, I'm afraid I have some dreadful news to tell you. It seems that I and everybody else you know are fated to die and become food for the worms. How does that make you feel?"

"Scar," Mufasa said warningly.

The boy looked at him, eyes wide with horror. "I – I don't want you to die, uncle Scar."

"And I don't want to die either! It seems we share a distinct preference on that count." Scar's voice had gained an edge and he spoke with an almost manic glee; he was well past the point of caring what Mufasa thought of him now. "I have some good news for you, though – it would seem that all the kings of the past get to live on as stars, whatever that means, and so you and your dear dad get to live forever to share your wisdom with the next generations. But ah, not me, I'm afraid, and not your friends either."

Scar could see the growing dismay forcing a desperate calculation in the boy's eyes. "But I don't wanna be up there all alone! Can't I share the kingdom with you when I grow up?" He turned to his father. "Dad, could you just make him and mum king for a day, so they get to be up there with me as well?"

Scar's grin threatened to stretch outside his skin. "Ah, now there's a clever lad. So full of bright ideas!"

"ENOUGH!" Mufasa leaped at him with a roar so loud and powerful that it almost physically pushed him back, and Scar cursed his own cowardice even as he scrambled away. The full muscle-bound form of the king stood looming over him, snarling at him with an almost palpable bloodlust. "I told you not to bring my son into this! Are you trying to inflict mental trauma on him?"

Scar tried to retreat further, but found the cave's cold stone wall pressing against his back. He faced his brother's snarling visage as only a cornered animal could. "I wouldn't say that I am the one frightening the poor lad right now, brother."

Mufasa tore his gaze away to glance at where Simba stood trembling. "Zazu, take Simba to his mother."

The boy hesitated. "But…"

"Go!"

Zazu landed next to Simba, evidently having sought refuge in the air, and placed a comforting wing on his shoulder. "Come on, let's leave them to it. Trust me; you're not going to want to be involved in this."

Mufasa waited just long enough for Simba to disappear before his growl redoubled in intensity. "Do you have any idea how long it will take me to coach him into sleeping easily again, without dreams in which he is devoured by earthworms? The boy still has nightmares from your last discussion, and already you seek to inflict them anew!"

"Fear is the unfortunate price to pay for gaining a modest understanding of the world." Scar gave Mufasa his best contemptuous glare. "See, that's what I never understood about you, brother: Tell me, do you genuinely believe that it is preferable for those around you to be ignorant in order to maintain control, or is it simply that you're afraid of any power that you yourself cannot master? I ask only for academic reasons, you understand. Still, the boy is far brighter than you – he will learn, given time."

"Be careful, Scar." Mufasa's eyes narrowed dangerously, and he lowered his head so he could look Scar directly in the eyes. It was perhaps less terrifying than the unpredictable animalistic rage he had shown before, yet it was still unnerving in its own right. "I may allow you to take your fears and insecurities out on me if it helps with your personal issues, but I do not forgive anyone who hurts my family."

Scar stared at him, too dumbstruck to think of any cutting reply. The implication that he was not family hurt more than he would have expected, or ever would admit. And the way he had said it… Be careful of what, exactly? 'Remember that as king I could have you killed at any moment'? Was he supposed to feel thankful that as the king's brother he was occasionally allowed to speak his mind without being punished for it?

Because that was the essence of it, wasn't it? How could there ever be a real brotherly relationship between the two of them when one dangled the life of the other so casually from his claws? Scar turned away, not willing to face Mufasa in that moment – for if he did their fight would only escalate further.

"Don't turn your back on me, Scar!"

Scar growled back without thinking. "Oh no, Mufasa, perhaps you shouldn't turn your back on me."

"Is that a challenge?" Before Scar could even register what was happening, his legs buckled and then he was lying on his back with the full weight of his older brother on top of him, heavy paws crushing his chest and slavering teeth bared in front of his face. "If you want to fight, let's do it right now!"

"Temper, temper," Scar chided, because it was the thing to say, but though Mufasa let go it was already far too late to change anything. The fear and helplessness which he had been made to feel finally distilled into their purest essence, snuffing out the last of the fire which he had once imagined to be hate. "I wouldn't dream of entering a physical contest with you. Now, if this kingdom had a more sensible system for transferring power – crowning whoever comes up with the best insult, for example – then certainly. But when it comes to brute strength, I'm afraid I'm at the shallow end of the gene pool."

There was no satisfaction to be found in his barbs, nor in having the last word as Mufasa silently withdrew. It was only then that Scar appreciated what had truly motivated those insults in the first place, and what it was that he had ultimately lost. He lay back on the cool stone slab in his dark cave, and pondered long and hard.

I accept your challenge, brother…

"Help!"

Scar slowly made his way down the cliff, taking care not to trip over the loose rocks that littered the path to the valley below. The entire ravine was covered in a cloud of dust that had been kicked up by the stampeding wildebeests, obscuring all sight and choking the lungs like a poison mist.

"Somebody! Anybody…"

When it came to understanding Scar, people tended to fall into one of two camps: There were those who imagined he had simply been born evil, and so he deserved what he got. The other group, however, imagined that something terrible must have happened to him in his past: An event suitably grand and dramatic to be commensurate with the bitter person he had eventually become.

In truth, it was the little things that mattered. A great tree could weather the grandest storm and survive the foulest sickness, only to wither and fall should an endless drizzle cause a rot to set in at the roots. A decay that could not be seen, but which slowly spread and grew over time...

It was always the little things that passed beneath your notice, right until it was too late.

He found what he was looking for underneath the withered tree in the centre of the valley, where he had told the boy to stay. Simba had draped his father's paw over his body as though the two of them were only sleeping, and for the first time in four days Scar felt a shadow of doubt cast over him.

"Simba, what have you done?"

The boy looked at him with bright, horror-filled eyes, and Scar once again felt that shadowy grasp in his chest, squeezing him almost like a physical force. "There were wildebeests, and, and he tried to save me…" Tears trickled down the boy's cheeks. "It was – it was an accident. I didn't mean for it to happen."

"It's not your fault," he said, and to his surprise he found that he meant it. He pulled the boy towards him, away from his brother's corpse, and clasped his furry little body against his forepaw. "Still, the king is dead – and that means you are now king. Do you think that you ought to rule the Pridelands, Simba?"

The boy shook his head. "I don't… I don't want to rule anything anymore. I just wanna go home."

Scar nodded. He nudged the boy along with him, away from the scene of tragedy. "Come, Simba. I will rule the kingdom for you until you are ready. We shall be kings together, just like you wanted." His late brother's words regarding nightmares resounded in his ears, and for a moment the thought of having to explain all this to Mufasa in the next life unnerved him. "Try not to grieve too much: Your father is not truly dead. You will see him again one day, and you might even be able to talk with him before then." Though it would probably be best to keep Rafiki away from him for the next few years at least – Scar did not know if being a spirit would do much to cool his brother's wrath.

The thought seemed to console the boy a little at least, and as the two of them walked back home his sniffling stopped, and his tears soon dried under the blazing sun. "Uncle Scar… do you think we could make mum and Nala king for a day too, so that we can all be together again up there in the stars?"

Scar smiled ever so slightly. Somehow, it felt better than his usual sneers. "My dear lad, under our reign, everybody will be king for a day."

A/N: That's it for the first chapter! Please leave a review to let me know what you think, and share it with anyone who you think might enjoy it. I originally intended this chapter to be a stand alone story, but I decided to continue it seeing its popularity, so read on! The story is already finished, so there no need to worry about it being discontinued halfway through. :)

For more Rational fiction, please check out my other (much longer) Naruto story, The Need to Become Stronger, Less Wrong's Harry Potter and the Methods of Rationality, or go to r/rational on Reddit.