Simba watched through the window of his new room. The interior was too polished for his liking. It was too bright, cold, and sterile. He enjoyed the light from the torches of his old room. He liked the fur pelt rugs that used to line almost every inch of the floor. Here he could not run barefoot without catching a fever. The child was far too young to know what was happening outside, or what had transpired for the last several years. All he knew was that his mother was gone. Simba knew only that the war was won. He supposed he should be happy, but it seemed to take away more than it gave.

He rested his chin in the trench of his crossed arms folded along the windowsill, looking as dozens of swirls of smoke from the fires bubbled to the sky. He was sad his mother was gone, but his father seemed even more upset. He loved his mother a lot- the fact that Kasim out-staged his grief boggled his mind especially considering how his father seemed so infallible and flawless. Having a weak spot for the woman he loved made Simba happy knowing that his father loved something so much. Sometimes his warrior poise made him seem as though he was made of cold stone like this castle.

Kasim entered the room quietly, closing the heavy golden plated door behind him.

"Remind me to get these doors changed to wood," he smiled as he boisterously pretended to struggle pushing it closed, but the boy kept looking down on the city without a word.

"Sorry," Kasim sighed. " I thought that would make you smile after so much sadness."

Simba moved over on the bench he sat on, and his father heaved down beside him. Simba nestled his small face into his arm.

"Father, what are they burning?" he asked quietly. Kasim paused, unsure if he should tell him the truth. He was only an eight year old child. He deserved to live in the best world possible that was free of fear and tragedy. But Kasim knew the world they were given was nothing but problems he would one day be faced with solving.

"They are burning the afflicted," he said just as quietly. "We can't let them run around and infect everyone. Do you remember what I told you the curse does?" Simba's grip on his arm got even tighter.

"Yes. If you're infected, it makes your brain fall apart. It twists your reasoning, and prevents you from having kids. It would end humanity as the birth rate reaches zero."

Kasim nodded. "That's right, my little warrior. It may be hard, but it has to be done. We have to protect our people." Simba paused for a moment.

"Mommy said that we should treat everyone like our own family, that everyone matters even if they are sick. Would you burn me at the stake, Daddy?"

Kasim fell silent, remembering the child he just sent to his death. There was churning in his stomach for a moment before he could answer. Simba could feel him tremble slightly.

"Of course I wouldn't. I love you son, but sometimes we must do what is right for everyone. The curse threatens everybody in the realm and the sooner we get rid of it, the sooner we can cure our land."

"What if I ever caught the curse?" Simba asked coldly, unsure of his father's priorities. Kasim squeezed him in a tight hug, tears rolling down his face.

"I will never let that happen, even if I have to die protecting you. You are my son, and I will love you no matter what. When you're older, you'll have to inherit this problem. I'll teach you everything you need to know to save our people." Simba paused, looking at the smoke again through the window.

"I miss mom." Simba buried his face in Kasim's chest. Kasim's cheeks flood with tears, eyes shut tight in pain. His wife and his son were the only things he cared more about than the crown on his head. He had to rid the world of the curse for Simba's future. When the Columbines took her from him, he lost part of himself. Despite what she did to him and his family, she was still the love of his life.

"I do too."