Once upon a time, in the golden savanna of Africa, a little lion cub named Simba curled up beside his father, Mufasa, beneath a sky glittering with stars. The night was warm, and the air hummed with the soft chirps of crickets. “Papa,” Simba whispered, “tell me again about the kings of the past.” Mufasa smiled, his deep voice gentle as he began, “Long ago, the great lions who came before us became stars to watch over the Pride Lands. They guide us, reminding us to be brave, kind, and wise.” 
Simba’s eyes widened. “Will I be a star one day?”
“Not for a very long time,” Mufasa chuckled, nudging him playfully. “First, you must learn to rule with courage and care for every creature—from the tiniest beetle to the tallest giraffe.”
The next morning, Simba bounded across the grasslands with his best friend, Nala. They chased butterflies, pounced on shadows, and splashed in watering holes. But when they strayed too close to the forbidden Elephant Graveyard, a pack of snarling hyenas cornered them. Simba’s heart raced as he stood protectively in front of Nala. “Run!” he yelped. Just as the hyenas lunged, Mufasa leaped from the rocks above, his roar shaking the earth. The hyenas fled, and Mufasa carried the cubs home.
“Bravery isn’t about seeking danger,” Mufasa told Simba later. “It’s about protecting those you love.” Simba nodded, though his paws still trembled.
Days later, Simba’s mischievous uncle Scar lured him into a narrow canyon. “Your father has a surprise for you,” Scar purred. But as Simba waited, a stampede of wildebeests thundered toward him. Mufasa raced to save him, hoisting Simba to safety before being swept away by the raging herd.
Heartbroken and believing he caused his father’s death, Simba fled into the desert. Exhausted, he collapsed under the scorching sun until a meerkat named Timon and a warthog named Pumbaa found him. “Hey, kid!” Timon grinned. “You look like you could use a friend!”
For years, Simba lived with his new companions, eating bugs and singing silly songs. He tried to forget his past, but at night, the stars seemed to whisper, Remember who you are.
One evening, Nala stumbled into their jungle oasis while hunting. “Simba? You’re alive!” she gasped. She told him Scar had ruined the Pride Lands—rivers dried up, trees withered, and the animals fled. “You’re the true king,” Nala urged. “Come home.”
Terrified, Simba refused. But that night, the ghostly image of Mufasa appeared in the stars. “Simba,” his voice echoed, “you must take your place in the Circle of Life.” Tears welled in Simba’s eyes as he whispered, “I’m not as strong as you, Papa.”
“You are stronger than you know,” Mufasa replied. “I will always be with you.”
With newfound resolve, Simba returned home. Scar, now a tyrant, sneered, “You’re no king.” But as they fought atop Pride Rock, Simba realized Scar’s lies had caused Mufasa’s death. With a roar, Simba defeated his uncle, and rain began to fall, quenching the parched land.
Animals gathered as Simba climbed Pride Rock. The clouds parted, and the stars shimmered brightly. “I’ll protect this kingdom,” Simba vowed, “just as my father taught me.”
Years later, Simba stood under the same stars with his own cub, Kiara. “Papa,” she asked, “tell me about the kings of the past.” Simba smiled, his heart full. “Long ago, the great lions who came before us became stars to watch over the Pride Lands…”
And so, under the endless African sky, the Circle of Life continued, reminding every creature that courage, love, and hope could always light the darkest night.
The end.
(Word count: 536)
