A/N: Everyone has heard of the philosophical concept of Karma, of course. It's the idea that good actions are rewarded and bad actions punished either later in your life, or through reincarnation into the next life. Take the spirituality out of it, however, and you're left with the important insight that acting like a jerk will often make your life really miserable, even if you seem to be winning on paper.

Now as a man is like this or like that,

according as he acts and according as he behaves, so will he be;

a man of good acts will become good, a man of bad acts, bad;

he becomes pure by pure deeds, bad by bad deeds;



And here they say that a person consists of desires,

and as is his desire, so is his will;

and as is his will, so is his deed;

and whatever deed he does, that he will reap.

"Just Zira? Are you sure?"

"I couldn't make out the details from that distance," Zazu said, still catching his breath. "Since you told me to return immediately should there be any sight of her. But there was no one else on that rock, Sire."

Scar growled, pacing around in front of the Royal Den as though preparing himself for a hunt. He could not risk letting anyone else talk to Rafiki if the mjuzi was there after all – that was the problem. "I'll go check it out myself," he said, as he had known he would. "You and Sarabi hold Pride Rock until I return."

"Of course, Sire." Scar barely heard the voice as it faded behind him – he was already going.

He bounded off in the direction of the Outlands, moving with uncharacteristic haste – something was wrong, he could feel it in his bones. Zira would never return before the mission was completed; she would not dare disappoint me, not in a million years! If she had chosen to come back regardless, then the implications were even more worrying: Did something happen to Rafiki? Is he dead? Was there an attack? A new crisis of which she had to come warn me?

At last Scar arrived at the base of Flatridge Rock, and he almost sagged through his legs in relief at the sight. He did not dare pause however, scrambling up the smooth stone even as his trembling muscles almost caused him to trip and fall again. Lying on top was Zira's body, sleeping or perhaps – no!

He nudged her with his snout, and breathed faint relief when she stirred and met his eyes. "…Scar?"

"Zira, what happened?" He already knew; there were no other explanations possible, at this point.

"He hit me, from behind, with his stick… I thought – I'm sorry, Scar. I failed…"

He cursed and leaped off the rock, trusting Zira to follow him. If Rafiki had attacked her, then there was only one possible cause of action for him to take next. Why did I decide to come here? I am such a fool!

He ran all the way back to Pride Rock, ignoring his aching muscles and the acid that pumped ever faster through his veins. Distantly, he was aware of another set of footfalls slowly catching up to him.

He reached the top of the entryway with a single bounding leap, only to find Sarabi jumping back in surprise at the sight of him. "Scar! I see you found Zira, thank goodness. Did you send that bizarre pig and rat here as well? You know how I feel about having lesser animals encroach on Pride Rock."

"Pig? Rat?" Scar turned to face Zira in a panic, and the look of realization in her eyes was all the confirmation he needed. "Where's Simba? Sarabi, tell me you know where Simba is!"

Her eyes widened in surprise, then fear. "He's outside playing with Nala, right over… there…"

Scar was already moving again, leaping to the grassy knoll where Nala still stood, wide-eyed and alone. "Where is he? Where did they go?"

"I don't…" Nala stared at him with the look of someone who was only just now realizing that something was terribly wrong. "The old monkey said he was going to take Simba to see his past. King Scar, what's going on? Who was that?"

"Nala, where did they go?"

Nala pointed a frightened paw in the direction of the withered forest, and Scar was moving again, Zira falling in beside him and looking just as horrified. As a huntress she was faster than him by far, but there was no benefit to speed if they did not know where they were going.

Why did Rafiki not tell them the truth immediately? Why the secrecy? Does he not know? But then why would he act against me at all? That implies he only suspects, and now he needs Simba to find proof...

"Water," he panted to Zira, willing her to understand. "Where is water?"

There was a thoughtful frown on her face for a second. "There's the old swamp, close to here – it's not safe for drinking, so there should still be some left."

Scar nodded, and they both headed in the direction she indicated. Please let me be in time to stop him, he prayed – but of course, all the spirits who could hear him would wish for him to fail.

If the monkey had told the boy the truth, Scar would rip him to shreds – but as for Simba… he could not finish that thought. He could not imagine what he would do, in that case.

Where did everything go so wrong? Were all my plans doomed right from the moment I decided to let Simba live? Or perhaps it was when I killed Mufasa – or even when I angered the spirits long before that?

Withered trees passed them by on either side as they leaped over rocks and fallen logs, until at last they arrived on top of a small outcrop overlooking a murky pond. It had almost dried up, but in the centre some water still remained. Two figures were crouched amongst the desiccated river rushes: An old mandrill with blue facial markings and a staff from which red fruits dangled, and beside him an adolescent lion, a few strands of red hair falling over his face as he leaned over to peer into the pool.

"Simba! Get away from there!" The lion looked up in shock at the mention of his name, while the mandrill merely glared at Scar. Scar tried to say something else, but his voice was overpowered by a great roar from above. When he looked up he saw that the weather had changed: Dark clouds were roiling and twisting together like a maelstrom in the sky, and flashes of light heralded the coming of lightning. Simba looked up at the strange clouds in horror, and ran.

Scar and Zira leaped down to follow, but Rafiki stepped in to bar their way, his staff raised in challenge. A warthog and a meerkat appeared from the river rushes on either side of him, the former looking decidedly more intimidating than the latter.

"Rafiki," Scar growled, "if you've hurt Simba…"

"Ooh, concerned for your favourite nephew, are you?" The mandrill leaned on his staff and stooped over, as if to try and get his face as close to Scar's as possible. "The brave king defends his family against the hostile intruder, fighting side-by-side with his loving queen. What a pity it is all a lie!"

"I'll handle the pig and the monkey," Zira said with a snarl. Her claws were already digging into the dirt, even as the meerkat mounted his steed for a charge. "You go after Simba."

"Right," said Scar. "I will come back to help you against Rafiki as soon as I can."

"Nope," said Rafiki, "wrong again!" He waved his staff at Scar, and then the sky came hurling down on him. Crushing winds grabbed hold of him and tossed him around like a mere plaything of the gods, and smashed him against the rocky outcrop from which he had come. He looked up, dazed, trying to find his direction amongst the withered plants that surrounded him, when he realized that the sky really was howling at him: Through an empty patch amongst the clouds the constellation of the Lion shone brightly, and it was from there that the cold wind blew.

Mufasa…

He scrambled back on his feet, ducking his head low to limit the wind's purchase, and scurried through the river rushes as best he could. He could already hear the mandrill landing at the spot he had just left, but he counted on the darkness and the withered plants to obscure his black mane from sight.

After moving but a few feet he heard a bloodthirsty roar behind him, and he chanced a glance backwards: Rafiki was desperately holding off a pouncing Zira, jamming the length of his staff between her jaws to stave off her bite. The meerkat and warthog joined the fray with a furious charge, and then Zira was fighting all three of them at once – and winning. She roared victoriously as she smashed aside the meerkat with a single swipe, and bit into the warthog's flank with a bloody fury. Then Rafiki raised his staff once more, and the whole scene became a blur of wind and devastation.

Scar rushed onwards, taking advantage of the commotion to pick up the pace. Soon he came upon a wide open clearing which had once been a rich sea of grass. Now there was nothing but a grey carpet as far as the eye could see, and the prince of the Pridelands was running through it in a blind panic.

"Simba!" He called out again and again, but the boy only seemed to become more agitated at the mention of his name. He jumped from one place to the next, all the while staring up at the roiling sky and shouting at the clouds with a fear and desperation that cut straight to Scar's heart.

"It's not true!" The boy shouted at the clouds, which only a moment ago Scar could have sworn resembled Mufasa's face, but which were now moving apart and dissipating. "It's not true…"

Scar crept closer, his sense of dread rising with each step he took, yet forcing himself onward. "Simba."

The boy twisted around and faced Scar with a look of… hate? No, horror? "Uncle Scar." The red strands of hair that fell over his eyes made him look like a drowned cat, and just as miserable. "It was my father. It was him, I swear! He was… he was up there, in the clouds, just like you said he would be."

Scar stared at the boy, not daring to speak. He supposed he could have tried to convince the lad he was delusional, but… "What did he say? Did he – did he mention me, at all?"

"I forgot to ask." Simba looked wretched with guilt, which made no sense. "He… he said I'd turned my back on him. That I'd forgotten him." He hung his head even lower. "He sounded so disappointed…"

There was a fury rising inside Scar, the kind he had not felt since Mufasa's death, though this was somehow stronger still. "Simba, I've known my brother all my life. The Mufasa I knew would never have said that to you, not in a million years. I don't know what glamour that shaman cast, or what it is he told you back there, but I can tell you for a fact that if Mufasa looked down on you now, he could do nothing but smile with pride in his heart at the lion that you've become."

He drew Simba closer, and placed a paw over him as he had done so many times before, though he could no longer cover the whole of him with just one arm. Still, even as his rage subsided, the fear which churned in his stomach redoubled to make up for it: For if Mufasa really was gone and Simba had only been speaking to his own reflection, then Zazu was right and there was nothing to hope for in life but hope itself.

As the two of them ran back to the swamp, Scar's full fatigue finally made itself known, and he scarcely managed the energy to feel renewed panic when he found Zira waiting by herself upon their return.

"They got away from me," she said, with the tone of someone who knew exactly how badly she had messed up. "They're heading back to Pride Rock, I think." She eyed Simba apprehensively. "Did he…"

"He's fine," Scar said shortly. "We need to go back, before – before Rafiki reaches the others."

Simba looked at them with dawning horror. "Aunt Zira? What's going on? The monkey said he was my dad's friend – was he lying?" He shuffled awkwardly on the spot. "Am I in some kind of trouble?"

"No," said Scar. "You're not. Just – just go on ahead, will you? I need to… I need to catch my breath."

As the boy anxiously scouted ahead through the withered forest, Zira fell in next to Scar, tail hanging low. "Scar, I'm sorry. I told Rafiki about the drought starting right after Mufasa's death – I think he figured out something was wrong from that. I didn't realize how it would look from his perspective."

Scar groaned. "Damn it Zira, we discussed this! That's why I told you to use the nightmare story instead." He shook his head, feeling too tired to muster any real anger. "Never mind. I should have known better than to trust anyone else with a task like this."

She stared at him in silence for a moment, but then her features twisted to anger. "What was I supposed to do? Your stupid story didn't work! What kind of plan was that supposed to be, anyway? You find the one person who could foil your plans, and you decide to invite him over for dinner? Oh, and don't forget to be polite to him Zira! We wouldn't want our strongest enemy to feel uncomfortable or anything!"

"Alright," Scar growled, "that's enough. You've made your point."

"Ooh, look at me, I'm Scar! I'm the smartest animal in the Pride Lands, don't you know. Hey, I have a great idea – how about I let my brother's heir live so he can challenge my claim to the throne later, and then I cosy up with all the lionesses who are still loyal to him? But wait, first let's send the only person who actually cares about me away so she can go fetch me another enemy who can talk with the dead." She gave him a look of withering contempt. "You should've just let me pounce when I said so."

"You're right," Scar snapped, "I should've just used violence to solve all of my problems. I don't know what I was thinking! I should've just hired an army of hyenas and taken over by force. Then I could have killed anyone who might stand in my way – including you of course, since you might betray me later for all I know – and turned the entire Pridelands into a desolate graveyard. Then I could have ruled all alone in a kingdom of the dead, just like I always wanted!"

She turned her head away in disgust, and the three of them continued onward in bitter silence. As Simba moved ever further ahead of them, Scar's sense of panic once again resurged, and he hurried to catch up. Deep down, however, he already knew that they would never make it in time to stop Rafiki from starting what was surely coming next.

By the time they arrived at the entryway, the lionesses had already assembled.