A/N: Nirvana is the release from the pain of Samsara, which can only be attained through enlightenment, as I'm sure you've guessed. There is not one single recipe for wisdom, of course, but what I think this world needs most of all right now is rationality. If there is to be any way for us to exist in peace as a species, we'll need to learn not to take things at face value. We need to think and critically examine our own thoughts and beliefs, especially those that are most precious to us, since those are the ones which we are most likely to be wrong about.

I would like to say that I wrote this story specifically to teach that lesson, but ah, well… there's also the small matter of lion cubs. They're very cute, you see.

We gotta be honest about our motivations, after all.

The red and black smog blended together into a dark crimson, and when Scar breathed it in, it was by far the worst thing he had ever smelled. It overpowered even the stench of death that lay buried directly underneath – the stench which he had come to know so well all that time ago…

For one moment his vision swam, and then he crashed into the ground. The last he saw was the peak of the summit, looming over him.

"What is that smell?"

Scar blinked, trying to regain his bearings. His paws were trembling as his stomach heaved as though it were trying to crawl out through his mouth. He was – he was on a hill, somewhere, though it was hard to make out his surroundings through the crimson fog that extended all around him.

"That's the smell of death, my son. You should get used to it, for you will encounter it a lot."

Scar startled wide awake. That voice… as he looked up, he saw that a male lion loomed over him. His fur was yellow, but his mane was black and his features sallow. He looked far more like Scar than he did Mufasa, though that had never made any difference, somehow.

"I don't see why I have to be here," the other voice complained. "Taka's the one that's gonna be captain of the Guard. Not me."

"And you're the one that's going to be king, and yet he still has to attend those lessons as well." The yellow lion beckoned them onwards, up the lonely hill which peaked out above the fog. "Look down."

The valley below was a scene of devastation. A distant part of Scar recalled that there had only been a hundred hyenas or so, but in his vision they were crawling across the field in their thousands. They drove endless herds of cattle before them, leaving behind a trail of chewed-up corpses like an ever-expanding boneyard. As the animals' screams rose up to the sky, they were answered by a flash of thunder from the dark clouds above. From on top of a rocky outcrop a lone mandrill raised his staff, and at his behest lightning lanced down from the heavens, tearing the earth asunder with its fury. As scores of hyenas burned and were torn apart by this divine onslaught, the smell of copper rose and blended with the stench of fire and death that was already overpowering Scar's senses.

The yellow lion took a deep breath. "This is your destiny, son. Look, there is the Lion Guard making ready for the charge. One day, it will be you leading them against the enemy."

"Why is it only lions?" He realized with surprise that it was his own voice that spoke, though it sounded much weedier than it ought to be. "I'd bet a crash of hippos or rhinos would see them right off."

"Because it is the lions' duty to defend the kingdom." For the first time, the king turned to address him directly. The subtle slant in his eyes made him seem at once wise and weary, stern and unreachable. "All year long the royal family feasts on the zebra and the antelope, but when the season of war arrives, we are the ones that fight and fall while they seek refuge at Pride Rock. For that is the true meaning of the Circle of Life: Life pays for death and death for life, as it has done and will do throughout eternity."

"That's still dumb," he heard himself say. "So what, the lesser animals let us eat them instead of moving away because we protect them from other predators, but it only works because there are foreign predators who in turn protect their subjects from us? That sounds like a scam."

"Don't be disrespectful!" Suddenly Mufasa's face was in his vision, snarling at him. They were of the same litter, but nonetheless his brother had always been larger and more intimidating than him. "The Circle of Life is the reason we exist and why we have everything that we do. Isn't that right, father?"

"Get off it, you brownnoser." Scar tried to shove him away, but his arms were pitifully weak. In response his brother leaped on top of him, his paws pressing down on his chest until Scar could no longer breathe under the strain. Mufasa's face bore an almost playful grin, but underneath it all there was a sense of smug satisfaction – the easy confidence of one who wielded power over others. "Get… off of me!"

"Cut it out, both of you!" Ahadi shoved Mufasa roughly aside, and finally Scar could breathe again, though the smell instantly made him wish he couldn't. "This is a battlefield! Does that word mean nothing to you children?" That well-worn glower on his face still made him flinch, even now. "I am disappointed in you two – especially you, Mufasa. As the eldest child and the future king, you should know better."

His brother weathered the rebuke with his head held high, managing to look proud even when brought to shame. Scar growled at the sight. "Why would you expect better from him? I'm the smart one!"

"Enough!" Ahadi turned away. "It is time for the charge. I need to join up with the rest of the Guard."

"Why does it have to be you? Let someone else lead the attack while you stay here, father."

"Because I am the King and Captain, and it is my duty." He sighed. "Perhaps one day you'll understand."

"There's nothing for me to understand!" He reached out to his father, but in his dream they were miles apart, and his paw never reached. "You'll die out there, and for what? Because of honour and duty and the Circle of Life? Those're all just words that you made up!" He snarled as Ahadi pulled away from him. "You don't really love us at all, do you? You're just a selfish idiot who's going to get himself killed for no reason. And then the crown will go to my stupid brother who's got no idea what he's doing, and–"

His father turned around and slapped him in a single movement, and the yellow paw rang against his skull. Through blurred and hazy vision, he saw that Ahadi's claws had still been extended, and through his left eye the world ran red. His father either had not realized or did not care, for he was already going.

"Taka," his brother said, fear and worry in his voice. "Taka, are you all right?"

He pushed him away again, this time finding the strength to manage. "Go away! I don't need your pity."

Mufasa stared at him with that stupid dejected look on his face. "Taka…"

"That's not my name," growled Scar.

Scar shook his head, his senses slowly returning to him as the last of the smoke cleared. With one paw he reached for the scar on his left eye, which seemed to be aching once more. That battle hadn't been when it really happened, but it seemed his vision did not care about such niggling matters as truth.

What are you trying to tell me, spirits? That my family are all clueless jerks? But I knew that one already.

No, more likely it had just been a dream, brought about by the desolate scene that extended all around him. Down below, the storm was still playing havoc with the hyenas and forcing them away from the lionesses, for all that Rafiki was no longer there to direct it. He really had been just a pawn, it seemed.

Still, he could not count on his good fortune to last. It was time to do what he had come all this way to do.

He moved no more than two steps before his legs gave way beneath him, and when he looked up he saw that there was a lioness in front of him. Her features were hard to make out through his hazy vision.

"Sarabi?"

Her paw descended on his throat, and he gasped as she almost crushed his larynx. "Give me a reason."

"To kill me? I can think of many." Scar tried to chuckle, but the pressure on his throat reduced it to a choking cough. "Sarabi… You told me that Mufasa was your rock, and that without him you lost all certainty in life. Now that I betrayed you, I imagine you feel the same way once again." The pressure redoubled, and he turned his head to try and give himself some room to breathe. "But… but although that certainty was an illusion, so is the way you feel now: The world's still the world, and your rock's still your rock. How else could it possibly be?"

Mufasa wouldn't kill Scar in her situation, and they both knew it. Although, if she did kill him, he'd have to explain things to him instead. He was not sure which he preferred, at this point.

There was a gust of wind, and with it came the barest whisper of a voice. "…smooth-talking jerk…"

Slowly, the pressure lifted, and Scar took that as permission to get up. "Thank you," he said. He gingerly rubbed his throat. "And Sarabi, I'm sor–"

He blinked: There was nobody there. Did I black out again after she left, or was all of that another dream? And perhaps more worryingly, was there any difference at all?

He shook his head and headed up the winding path that lead up to the spire. He paused briefly when he realized that the tiniest glowing ember was floating behind him, carried by the wind. When he started walking again it reluctantly drifted along with him, as though pulled along by an invisible thread.

Oh.

"You're stuck with me, aren't you?" He sighed, but did not halt his long walk up the path. "I'm sorry, but you have your kid, and now it's high time I saved mine. You understand, don't you?" After drifting just a moment longer, the ember bobbed towards him, and started circling around his head like a lost firefly.

Zira… I'm sorry. You deserved better than what I gave you.

Up the winding path he went, and though his eyes were closed to hold back tears, he could feel the passage of the stones underneath his paws. The old injury in his paw was aching again, and he could feel the throb of all the accumulated bruises from his falls, but he paid them no heed.

At last he felt the wind blow onto his face and through his mane again, and he knew that he had reached the top. He took the last step up onto the summit and opened his eyes. The surface of the peak was as flat and desolate as it had always been, except that at the very edge sat an adolescent lion. Someone must have placed a brazier in front of him, for a thick crimson smoke was billowing upwards into the lion's face.

"Simba…"

"Uncle." The lion did not turn around: He must have heard Scar coming, despite the wind. "Master Rafiki told me to stay here and practice my lessons away from the hyenas. Is it true what he said, that you sent them here to attack us?" There was a brief pause. "Did you kill him too?"

"Simba," he said again, his voice faltering. "You should step away from the smoke. It's not safe."

"Not safe." Simba turned around, and Scar saw to his dismay that the boy's noble features were marred by crimson markings. He recognized the symbol for a newly anointed king on the lad's brow alongside the mjuzi's circle, as well as the Guard's paw print on his left shoulder. It seemed that Rafiki had been trying to fashion himself a weapon. "What are you doing here, uncle?"

Scar winced. For just a moment it had almost felt like he was talking to his brother again, back when Mufasa had warned Scar never to threaten his family. "I'm here to apologize," he said, the words ringing hollow in his own ears. He hesitated, finding himself once again equipped with nothing but the truth. "And, well, I was hoping to get you to convince your mother to end this conflict between us."

"To turn me against her, you mean." Simba's expression was one of rank disgust, though it did not seem to be directed at Scar. "You know, that's the first thing Rafiki said to me, after he found me with Nala. He told me that my dad had a message for me: That he was murdered by a hidden enemy, someone more ruthless and cunning than any hyena. I didn't have any idea who he could possibly mean." There was a gust of wind which blew Simba's red strands of hair across his face. "You weren't kidding when you called me an idiot, uncle."

Scar flinched again. "You're not an idiot, Simba – I am. Everything I told you up until that moment was the truth. I had convinced myself I was tricking the red powder with my cleverness, but in fact I was more honest with myself than I had been in a long time. It was true when I said that I wasn't worthy of your mother's praise; that I was selfish and full of resentment and that I didn't deserve my title or your appreciation. It was only when the dust settled that I said the absolute worst, dumbest lies."

For the first time Simba looked uncertain, if only slightly. "So you're saying you didn't kill him, then?"

Scar shook his head. The fact that he might still have been able to convince Simba of that made it hurt all the more. "I did, but I didn't do it because I hated him. I did it because I was… afraid."

"Afraid," Simba repeated, hollowly. "Why, did you think that he was going to grab you and throw you down the gorge instead? That maybe he was plotting to have you trampled to death by wildebeests?"

"No," said Scar, "I was afraid I would die while he was allowed to live on forever, just because he didn't want to disappoint our father by going back on tradition; because it's just so much easier to justify things when you're the one who holds all the power. I didn't want to have to watch as Zira and anyone else I cared about disappeared forever, and, well… I guess I was afraid of caring for anyone else at all." He shook his head again. It was strange, how every time he spoke he heard words he never thought he would hear himself say. "I told myself I wasn't really killing him; that I was just helping him move on to the next life, but really I had no idea if that was even true at all. The fact is that I killed my own brother, your father, because I was a coward who couldn't face up to reality. Simba… can you ever forgive me?"

"Forgive you?" Simba stared at him emptily. "Forgive you for killing my dad, lying about it, and then telling me bedtime stories when I couldn't sleep from the nightmares? For making me think I was the one who did it and calling me an idiot when I tried to apologize?" His hair rose and his muscles tensed as black clouds roiled and churned above him. "You killed my dad and seduced my mum!"

At the sound of his voice the winds rose up and grabbed hold of Scar, hurling him backwards. He felt his chest lurch in terror as he realized he was falling off the summit, but then his claws found purchase and he was hanging onto the edge for dear life. He looked up, and saw that Simba was staring down at him.

"You should've killed me," said Simba. Strands of red mist were circling around his head, just like the smouldering ember did for Scar. A thin trail of tears trickled down his cheeks. "You should've… you should've just killed me!"

Scar scrambled back up the cliff, his heart pounding as he looked his nephew in the eye, trying vainly not to flinch. "What… what're you going to do?"

"Go away," said Simba. "Leave, and never…" He shook his head as though trying to clear the mist from his face. "No, he's not… no, that's not right." He staggered dangerously, and for a second Scar thought he would fall, but then he steadied himself and walked away from the cliff's edge. "Wait… hold on. Stop!"

Scar followed the mist to its source, and found the brazier from which red smoke unnaturally rose to follow Simba wherever he went. He gave the burning embers a sharp kick, taking care not to touch the dust with his own paws, and watched as it flew off the cliff's edge – only for a sudden wind to carry it up above them where it formed an angry swirling pattern in the sky.

And then it all came rushing down.

"No, stop!" Simba screamed as the red mist fell upon him, his cry of anguish dragging the powder down his throat and throttling him as he flailed along the ground. "Stop it! You're hurting me!"

"Get away from him!" The wind roared along with Scar and blew into Simba, targeting not the boy but the smoke itself, yet for every strand of mist that was forced away two others forced itself down the boy's throat, and his screams lost all semblance of sanity or reason. Flames seemed to ignite across his fur as the crimson markings flared into life, angry red lines burning themselves ever deeper into his skin.

Simba screamed once more, and this time the whole sky screamed with him: There was a clap of thunder, and Scar had just enough time to raise the earth in a dome around him before there was a flash of blinding light followed by another clap that shattered it. Stone fragments hurled through the sky as the world tumbled and fell around him, and then the sky flashed white once more.

Zira, protect me!

Pillars of stone rose up all around the summit, raising bulwarks meant not to shield him but to catch the lightning, and when they did they exploded into countless shards. Entire segments of earth and rock broke off from the summit, piles of flaming debris hurtling towards the ground below and igniting the trees that stood there. Still more lightning struck the base of Pride Rock, adding to the growing inferno.

Through the flashes of light and the ringing in his ears Scar rose and clambered over the debris to look for Simba. He found the boy shrouded in a yellow light like a cloak of golden flame, and Scar snarled at the sight. Somewhere deep within him, a black rage which he had thought long defeated rose anew.

"Mufasa!" The golden lion turned to face him with eyes red as fire. "You finally got what you wanted, brother: A chance to face me and make me pay for what I did. So, was it worth it?" He gestured at the devastation all around them; at the dead and blackened Savannah that stretched on endlessly and the billowing fire that threatened to consume it all. "Look around you! Look at what your rage has wrought. All throughout the kingdom your subjects are dying of hunger and thirst, your pride is shattered, and your own family – your own son is forced to pay the price!"

The golden lion roared with a scream so suffused with rage as to be beyond reason, and the ground groaned from the reverberation. Cracks formed in the earth as the summit split apart beneath his paws, and before Scar knew it he was falling: He had one second to twist in mid-air and see the ground rushing at him before a sudden wind caught hold of him and plunged him into something that gave way and turned the world blue around him. He stared up, dazed, floating, and saw the stars above him.

There were twelve of them; a dozen blue lights surrounding a lonely crimson ember. One by one the blue lights fell upon the red one, and then they were no longer stars but lions. All twelve of them leaped atop her, and she desperately batted each aside, clawing one and biting another. They were on her back, tearing into her flanks, their teeth searching for her throat as she screamed.

Scar paddled towards the surface, trying feverishly to reach up to her, but there was an entire ocean between them and he seemed to get no closer. Another roar from Zira split the heavens, and Scar realized she was not screaming in pain or fear at all: Somehow, she was winning. She grabbed hold of one of the lions and threw him into another, and then her teeth found the throat of a third. One by one the lions fell, reducing them to stardust – and yet a single golden star still stood before her.

Scar broke the surface of the water and gasped, coughing up water he did not realize he inhaled, and forced himself to take in the sight before him. A crimson smoke filled the great cavern of the Lion Guard, coalescing into a cloud of smog and fire, and as he watched the cloud fell upon the golden lion. Before he could do anything, he felt the water from the pool rise up into the air as it dragged him along in its wake. When he fell onto the ground the water continued without him, and it was only then that he realized what was happening. The water crashed into the burning smog, and with a scream like a hiss of dying embers the flames went out, until only golden light remained.

"Zira!"

A single ember fell from the remnants of the smog, clattering onto the ground while emitting only the faintest crimson glow. Scar tried to reach out for it, but a golden paw idly batted it aside.

Scar looked up at the lion before him, the black rage consuming him like it never had before. He stared at his enemy, too livid for words. The yellow light had covered Simba completely now, leaving the boy utterly unrecognizable. Beneath the coat of gold his markings still shone through, blazing red and angry, and from the yellow flames around his head rose up a black smoke that was almost like an adult's mane.

"Death does not become you," he spat. "You've changed. The Mufasa I knew would never have acted like this. You… you are not my king, and you are not my brother." Terror and fury warred within him, competing for dominance, but he forced himself to look his enemy in the eye regardless. "You're destroying everything, and for what? You killed my queen, starved my subjects…" He gritted his teeth at the sight of Simba's blistering flesh. "And now, your own son…"

"How dare you bring up my son," the yellow lion roared, "When it was you who killed him!"

Scar stared in shock for just one second, and then the ground trembled again as the cave crumbled all around him. Stone spikes rose from the earth to impale him, and it was all he could do to raise walls of his own to block them. He scrambled between the bulwarks even as they groaned and squeezed under the force, threatening to squash him flat. "Father? Father, please stop – it's me, Taka. Your son!"

"My son is dead!" Ahadi roared again, and this time the whole cave came crashing down on top of him. Scar hurriedly squeezed into one of the side-tunnels, but even so he could feel the stone groaning under an invisible strain. He tried to run, but the walls of the tunnel edged in ever closer, warping, shifting, growing talons and holding him down, until finally the stone split apart and he was dragged by the legs out into the open, lying naked before a golden sun. "Murderer."

"No, father, please–" The stone around his paws squeezed, and he screamed out in pain. "Stop it, you're hurting me!" He tried to reach out for Zira, but the connection was so faint it might as well not be there. He reached further, searching for anyone who could help – if there was anyone left in the Pridelands who he had not yet made into an enemy. Sarabi, Zazu… anyone! Ahadi roared one last time, and the golden light blazed into Taka, burning into his scar as if carving it anew. Fire raced through his skull as he screamed from an agony he had never imagined possible – until the golden light set the rest of his body on fire and his new torment eclipsed even that. "Somebody, anybody…" His vision blurred with tears as he made one last desperate, unthinking attempt to find a connection. "Brother, help me!"

There was a clap of thunder as something slammed into the golden lion, and for one brief second Scar could feel Simba's connection flicker into existence, and he pulled on it with all his remaining strength. There was a brief tension as the world see-sawed around him, and then the connection came loose with a snap followed bythe sound of a small body hitting the ground with a thud.

Scar blinked against the golden specks that were still burned into his retinas, and when he opened his eyes again he saw that the specks had turned into drops of rain, pouring down from the massive hole that had opened in the cavern's ceiling. It seemed that the long drought had finally ended.

"…uncle Scar?" Simba opened his own eyes, clearly finding it difficult to do so. "What… what just happened?" He lifted his head slightly, taking a drowsy look around. "How'd we get down here?"

Scar tried to get up, but found that the stone around his paws made it impossible to do so. "We were attacked," he said instead, settling down on the cool moist rock. "I think… I think your dad saved us."

"Oh," said Simba, closing his eyes and letting his head drop down again. "That's good."

"Yeah…" Scar considered saying something else, but the boy was already sleeping. The rain pattered down on the two of them as they lay there in silence. After a moment's struggle, Scar managed to get one arm loose enough to place his paw over Simba, sheltering his nephew just a little from the rain.

A/N: That's it! I'll write an epilogue after this, but aside from that this chapter concludes the story. I have to say it's been an absolute blast writing this, as you could probably tell from the rate of updates. Overall I'm very happy with the end result, though there are surely some things that I'd go back and change if I wrote it all again. Please write me a review to let me know what you think, even if it's just a short message! And if you know of anyone else who's interested in this kind of thing, forward it to them. The more people get to enjoy this story, the more I'll feel like it was time well spent.

Though to be honest, I would probably still have written it if nobody had read it at all.