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Some distance away, high upon the bows of his home, a figure looked out upon the plains in the direction of the Field of Kings and saw the newly erected marker. Squinting, the old mandrill's eyes could pick up the faint figures mourning nearby and softly side, looking sympathetically towards them. He felt the energy drain out of his creaky bones, having gotten little sleep from the previous night.

However, he had gotten up early that morning for a special purpose. One of the finalizing things he would do for this event.

The wind gently brushed through the leaves of his tree, filling the air with motion and knocking around his collection of dried gourds and other items about. The gourds on his own staff clanked about as he slowly walked towards the decorated walls of his branches.

As a mjuzi, it was traditional for members to serve as storytellers and historians usually commemorating significant events and figures with elaborate paintings in accordance to the ones which occurred during their time of service. Rafiki had a couple ones spotted around his tree, the earliest ones commemorating the earliest part of King Mufasa's reign when Rafiki had first been introduced and selected, and had gone all the way down to Mufasa's children and grandchildren now. A part of him wondered what masterpieces his successor would create, in their own home, and with new characters.

However, little of any of that mattered now, aside from the commemoration aspect. Older and newer generations aside, there was one specific he had in mind and a duty to fulfill.

His hand reached out and caressed a large branch on his home. Several of his earliest pictures were there, including his own handprint and early tests for the paints and markers he had created. A little slice of individual creativity, though among the magentas and cooler colors, one drawing, though fading, stood boldly out with it's warm colors and size.

He fondly remembered that painting and how it and he had gone throughout the years. He remembered it's first moments well. It had been the first night of the rainy season, the day prior being the prince's birth. He smiled softly, remembering the overjoyed, warm, kind smiles of his friends, how they excitedly introduced him to their son. He recalled how proud and confident they looked when they allowed him to adorn and present their cub to the kingdom, to the world. That night, as the rains fell heavily down from the heavens, being withheld throughout the day, he had gotten to work. Various dusts and handmade acrylics, formed from multiple plant materials and such, had been used, the end product being the prince's portrait, a design he was very proud of.

Of course the picture had gone throughout several changes throughout the years. At the end of Mufasa's reign and the start of Scar's, under the sorrowful belief that the prince had joined his father too, he had wiped the canvas, attempting the blur out the picture and signify the quiet notion that he had died young.

Seasons passed and the Pridelands had entered into a famine. Though his tree had withstood the trials of rainless days and the dying landscape, it still had been effected. The dry weather and deteriorating landscape had diminished the health of the tree somewhat, and had also decreased the quality of his pieces, as if it too was destined to fade with the Pridelands during this dark time.

Fortunately for him, years later, the spirits had granted him with immensely reliving and exciting news. Filled with renewed hope, he had gone over to his forgotten, deteriorated painting. Through the light of the leaves, he had applied a fresh coat of color to his picture, adding a bright red mane with immense elation towards what this all signified.

And now here he was again. The drawing. Worn and greying from the seasons, though still visible and discernable. He stared at it for a moment, thinking back to all the time which had passed since he first came up with and made this design, to where he was now.

With a sorrowful, heavy sigh, he made one last addition to the picture. His hand came up, his fingers lingering over the face of the character. He shut his eyes, letting the soft breeze come into his home and gently swoop around him, like one last embrace, one last moment of familiarity and encouragement.

Folding two of his fingers down and leaving two upwards, he pressed them against the drawing's face and drew downward. The breeze settled down and he opened his eyes again, seeing the now 'closed' eyes of the king before him.

Murmuring a few words of farewell and some personal things added that were not said during the funeral, the old shaman gave one last respectful nod towards the picture and the spirit of Simba. A king. A father. A friend. A lion worthy of an old baboon's loyalty, respect, and friendship.

Rest in peace, old friend.

A bit of even more lore here. In TLG, in Mizimu Grove there is a tradition where royal mjuzis plant a tree as tradition, to signify their induction as a royal mjuzi. Considering there are 16 trees in Mizimu Grove, it would imply that the Pridelands has had 16 mjuzis, right?

Well yes and no.

Given that Makini moved to the Tree of Life to become their royal mjuzi, and Rafiki is left without a successor in the Pridelands, it got me wondering. Rafiki had lasted since at least Mufasa's reign down to Kiara's, so that's three generations at least. I'm just gonna assume that the Pridelands has had at least 12 generations of ruler thus far, which means more then one mjuzi for each generation, if not for what Makini showed by moving to the Night Pride. I now believe that the Pridelands has served as a sort of mjuzi-school for generations, with at least one present at all times to serve as mentor and to serve the royal family. Given that it's confirmed that there are other prides aside from the Pridelands with royalty, I do believe that several of those trees in Mizimu Grove belong to mjuzis who received training in the Pridelands before going off to other places to serve and bring their knowledge and abilities to them.

Additionally, after looking over a lot of Rafiki's tree while trying to prepare to make this, I kept on wondering how extensive his art gallery must be and how much it includes. Give that we've seen him painting on the walls in the Lair of the Lion Guard , some paintings seem to be going back generations, I decided that in terms of residences for the mjuzis, for example Rafiki's tree, well, it's just that, Rafiki's tree. It's not any other mjuzi's tree, just his. I imagine the other mjuzis which have served have also had their own residences, probably other trees or caves, each decorated with historical pictures illustrating the events of the time they served under. I also think they could maybe serve as a bit of a spiritual, history museum for inhabitants curious about Pridelands history, sort of like the Cave of Secrets , but for the public or maybe just the lions/mjuzis/apprentices. Given how open and close by Rafiki's Tree is to the other residents of the Pridelands, when he finally goes his tree might become sort of a holy landmark where future mjuzis and such can go for history/spiritual guidance, but it generally is separated from the rest of the foliage.

Anyways, lore aside, sorry for how long it too to make this. Rafiki is by far the hardest character for me to do, if only just for finding a good color scheme for him. I can't tell you how many reference pictures I went through before I finally decided on a palette. To top it all off, he's going to be present in another picture soon, but with a background tint, so I ReAlLy lOoK FoRwArD To tHaT.

Anyways, this picture did have some significant meaning to me and the story at hand. It's hard to believe that these events are part of the results of a neglected, termite-infested, teenage lion being adopted by a loving aunt. Really puts into perspective of the flow of time or whatever.

Nala, Rafiki © The Lion King © Walt Disney Animation Studios
Kiara © The Lion King 2: Simba's Pride © Walt Disney Animation Studios
Story, Art © Vtoony

Description
Previous || Next

Some distance away, high upon the bows of his home, a figure looked out upon the plains in the direction of the Field of Kings and saw the newly erected marker. Squinting, the old mandrill's eyes could pick up the faint figures mourning nearby and softly side, looking sympathetically towards them. He felt the energy drain out of his creaky bones, having gotten little sleep from the previous night.

However, he had gotten up early that morning for a special purpose. One of the finalizing things he would do for this event.

The wind gently brushed through the leaves of his tree, filling the air with motion and knocking around his collection of dried gourds and other items about. The gourds on his own staff clanked about as he slowly walked towards the decorated walls of his branches.

As a mjuzi, it was traditional for members to serve as storytellers and historians usually commemorating significant events and figures with elaborate paintings in accordance to the ones which occurred during their time of service. Rafiki had a couple ones spotted around his tree, the earliest ones commemorating the earliest part of King Mufasa's reign when Rafiki had first been introduced and selected, and had gone all the way down to Mufasa's children and grandchildren now. A part of him wondered what masterpieces his successor would create, in their own home, and with new characters.

However, little of any of that mattered now, aside from the commemoration aspect. Older and newer generations aside, there was one specific he had in mind and a duty to fulfill.

His hand reached out and caressed a large branch on his home. Several of his earliest pictures were there, including his own handprint and early tests for the paints and markers he had created. A little slice of individual creativity, though among the magentas and cooler colors, one drawing, though fading, stood boldly out with it's warm colors and size.

He fondly remembered that painting and how it and he had gone throughout the years. He remembered it's first moments well. It had been the first night of the rainy season, the day prior being the prince's birth. He smiled softly, remembering the overjoyed, warm, kind smiles of his friends, how they excitedly introduced him to their son. He recalled how proud and confident they looked when they allowed him to adorn and present their cub to the kingdom, to the world. That night, as the rains fell heavily down from the heavens, being withheld throughout the day, he had gotten to work. Various dusts and handmade acrylics, formed from multiple plant materials and such, had been used, the end product being the prince's portrait, a design he was very proud of.

Of course the picture had gone throughout several changes throughout the years. At the end of Mufasa's reign and the start of Scar's, under the sorrowful belief that the prince had joined his father too, he had wiped the canvas, attempting the blur out the picture and signify the quiet notion that he had died young.

Seasons passed and the Pridelands had entered into a famine. Though his tree had withstood the trials of rainless days and the dying landscape, it still had been effected. The dry weather and deteriorating landscape had diminished the health of the tree somewhat, and had also decreased the quality of his pieces, as if it too was destined to fade with the Pridelands during this dark time.

Fortunately for him, years later, the spirits had granted him with immensely reliving and exciting news. Filled with renewed hope, he had gone over to his forgotten, deteriorated painting. Through the light of the leaves, he had applied a fresh coat of color to his picture, adding a bright red mane with immense elation towards what this all signified.

And now here he was again. The drawing. Worn and greying from the seasons, though still visible and discernable. He stared at it for a moment, thinking back to all the time which had passed since he first came up with and made this design, to where he was now.

With a sorrowful, heavy sigh, he made one last addition to the picture. His hand came up, his fingers lingering over the face of the character. He shut his eyes, letting the soft breeze come into his home and gently swoop around him, like one last embrace, one last moment of familiarity and encouragement.

Folding two of his fingers down and leaving two upwards, he pressed them against the drawing's face and drew downward. The breeze settled down and he opened his eyes again, seeing the now 'closed' eyes of the king before him.

Murmuring a few words of farewell and some personal things added that were not said during the funeral, the old shaman gave one last respectful nod towards the picture and the spirit of Simba. A king. A father. A friend. A lion worthy of an old baboon's loyalty, respect, and friendship.

Rest in peace, old friend.

A bit of even more lore here. In TLG, in Mizimu Grove there is a tradition where royal mjuzis plant a tree as tradition, to signify their induction as a royal mjuzi. Considering there are 16 trees in Mizimu Grove, it would imply that the Pridelands has had 16 mjuzis, right?

Well yes and no.

Given that Makini moved to the Tree of Life to become their royal mjuzi, and Rafiki is left without a successor in the Pridelands, it got me wondering. Rafiki had lasted since at least Mufasa's reign down to Kiara's, so that's three generations at least. I'm just gonna assume that the Pridelands has had at least 12 generations of ruler thus far, which means more then one mjuzi for each generation, if not for what Makini showed by moving to the Night Pride. I now believe that the Pridelands has served as a sort of mjuzi-school for generations, with at least one present at all times to serve as mentor and to serve the royal family. Given that it's confirmed that there are other prides aside from the Pridelands with royalty, I do believe that several of those trees in Mizimu Grove belong to mjuzis who received training in the Pridelands before going off to other places to serve and bring their knowledge and abilities to them.

Additionally, after looking over a lot of Rafiki's tree while trying to prepare to make this, I kept on wondering how extensive his art gallery must be and how much it includes. Give that we've seen him painting on the walls in the Lair of the Lion Guard , some paintings seem to be going back generations, I decided that in terms of residences for the mjuzis, for example Rafiki's tree, well, it's just that, Rafiki's tree. It's not any other mjuzi's tree, just his. I imagine the other mjuzis which have served have also had their own residences, probably other trees or caves, each decorated with historical pictures illustrating the events of the time they served under. I also think they could maybe serve as a bit of a spiritual, history museum for inhabitants curious about Pridelands history, sort of like the Cave of Secrets , but for the public or maybe just the lions/mjuzis/apprentices. Given how open and close by Rafiki's Tree is to the other residents of the Pridelands, when he finally goes his tree might become sort of a holy landmark where future mjuzis and such can go for history/spiritual guidance, but it generally is separated from the rest of the foliage.

Anyways, lore aside, sorry for how long it too to make this. Rafiki is by far the hardest character for me to do, if only just for finding a good color scheme for him. I can't tell you how many reference pictures I went through before I finally decided on a palette. To top it all off, he's going to be present in another picture soon, but with a background tint, so I ReAlLy lOoK FoRwArD To tHaT.

Anyways, this picture did have some significant meaning to me and the story at hand. It's hard to believe that these events are part of the results of a neglected, termite-infested, teenage lion being adopted by a loving aunt. Really puts into perspective of the flow of time or whatever.

Nala, Rafiki © The Lion King © Walt Disney Animation Studios
Kiara © The Lion King 2: Simba's Pride © Walt Disney Animation Studios
Story, Art © Vtoony