Life in retrospect has a certain dreamlike quality. To Kimatuli this was a horrifying realization. Her cubs were still young, they had their whole lives ahead of them. To acknowledge that she was nearing death was to admit that they would be denied a mother. They had Sadiki of course, but she had nothing she could leave them of herself or their father. In all honesty she had tried, had spent hours digging desperately into the deepest recesses of her mind, and had found nothing. All she wanted was a name, something to leave them with so they might be able to seek him out. They deserved at least that much. Her vision was fading much faster than she was willing to admit, she was hardly able to distinguish her cubs from a distance anymore. Nadhani seemed to know this, he always had been perceptive, but she didn’t want to scare him.
Now, in the darkness, she could only hear them breathing. She shifted nervously, trying to make sure she wouldn’t wake any of them. Sadiki had done so much for them in such a short time; she wanted to make sure he knew how much she appreciated it. But she couldn’t wake him now, it was much too late. It was frustrating, to have so little way to express yourself. She had thought she would become used to it, her days being plagued by an eternally compounding fog, but instead the few moments she did have lucidity had become a living hell. She spent as much of it as she could with her cubs, but there was something missing.
Her life was nearing its end and she knew almost nothing of it. Her history, her family, her very identity, everything was shattered into meaningless bits and pieces. Sometimes she could see flashes of it in her mind’s eye, fractured elements that she hoped eventually she would be able to assemble into something meaningful. So far, there was nothing like that.
In the past weeks she had been having dreams that seemed important. One in particular stood out to her. She would find herself lost in a sea of darkness, with a massive lion of light standing over her. The tune that had been embedding itself into her psyche would start up again, a mocking nursery rhyme. I never go to sleep, dear, I just go round to see my little children of the East who rise to watch for me. It would echo in her mind as she tried to find some semblance of sense in the dream. Was it a memory? She wasn’t sure. The lion of light would reach out one massive paw and lay it on her forehead and she would be transported. How did you get way over there and pray, where did you stay?
The tune would repeat endlessly, cascading to a whisper as she found herself in a field. The shadows of a lioness and a half dozen young cubs, no older than her own, could be seen running through the field, their forms leaving smoky trails as they moved. She found it intoxicating to watch, her own body intangible as she tried to move closer. She could hear a voice beneath it all, one that pulled at her heartstrings. Mother? She wasn’t sure; it could have been her own voice. She wanted nothing more than to get closer, but as she watched they would fade into the distance, leaving nothing behind but the faint sound of laughter.
And then she would be transported again, feeling as if her body was being torn to shreds. She would find herself a cub, looking up at its parents with bright eyes. But it wasn’t the faces of her own parents; it was her son, Eshan, and a strange female. “If only mother could have seen you,” he would say, and as he reached down to nuzzle her the world would disintegrate again.
After the dream she would always wake in a cold sweat, more lucid than she had been in months. This was one of those nights. Everything about it frightened her. There was no good reason other than that she was now losing her mind. If she couldn’t sleep soundly she wouldn’t be around for the cubs in the mornings. It shouldn’t have bothered her as much as it did, but the prospect of losing her touch with them far in advance of when she expected to was a horrifying one. She had to find some way to tell them. She could wake them, but they would think she was hallucinating. She wasn’t entirely sure she wasn’t.
Her body shook as she tried to settle herself, but it did no good. She would need to talk to Sadiki in the morning, as early as she could manage, and try to find a way to phrase her concerns that wouldn’t seem completely irrational. Taking a deep breath she looked to the mouth of the den and thought for a moment that she saw the lion of light standing at its entrance. Her heart caught in her throat but it was already gone. The time is near. The voice inside her mind was her own, and a subtle throbbing followed it. She would have her time with them even if it killed her to do so. They deserved the best she could give them. Sadiki would try to stop her, she knew, but she wanted them to have the kind of memories she lacked. They had each other, at least, and him. She wanted them to remember her as a strong lioness, not a weakened husk that spent so much time simply lying still and waiting for something that would never come. She wouldn’t wait anymore, she would make things happen. With a mixture of determination and delirium setting in on her mind she rose to her feet. It would start now. With her head pounding she stumbled through the den, picking up Eshan as she wandered out into the night. She thought she saw the lion of light amongst the trees again, but she ignored it, turning the other direction toward the river.
