There once was a very mighty and scornful lion that ruled them all. His name uttered perfection, Kamili. Every animal in the jungle respected and feared his reign because he was, without a shadow of a doubt, the king of the jungle. That is, every animal except the lionesses in his pride. They all loathed him. How could it be that ALL the females hunted day and night restlessly whilst he, the MIGHTY KING, lay underneath the shadows of the proud baobab tree. 




One fateful night, Nea, the goddess of nature and all beautiful creatures, visited Kamili. She said, “My dearest Kamili, I have seen all your wrongdoings and I am not pleased. You were seen fit to rule as a fair king. You have done nothing but cast aside your responsibilities as leader of the pride and, therefore, the jungle. The lionesses have taken over your command due to your inability to lead the pride towards welfare and prosperity.”




“How dare you speak of such atrocities!” said he. “I have done nothing but rule this jungle fairly…as it ought to.”




“Beware, my king for you do not know what lies ahead. If you fail to mind what I’ve come to tell you, the world will draw to a close. You have been warned, Kamili. All that you love, all that you treasure will cease to exist. Your land will burn and only cinders of the earth will remain.”


She faded into the nighttime and her words echoed within the jungle. The unyielding lion defied mercilessly her warning.




As time took its toll, decay came into sight. The leaves lost their green, the water faded into thin air and food became scarce. The wildlife of the jungle collapsed and faded into nothingness. The fiercest of animals remained, feeble and morose. They all resented Kamili’s ruthless ruling. They cursed him relentlessly. Kamili beheld the debris his reign had evoked. Evidently enough, he was compelled to act yet he gazed into the barren land.




As Kamili slowly began to lose his sense of power, dominance and pride, the rest of the jungle followed. The grass was not as green, the trees were not as high, the sky was not as blue, and the water bit by bit started to disappear. Life as they knew it was not the same anymore, even the fiercest animal of them all had stopped hunting its weakest preys.




One cold foggy night, when even the hungriest predators could hunt no longer, when they were all asleep, the king of the jungle suddenly began to suffocate. It appeared that he was being punished for his unwillingness to rule. The night lasted longer, the sun didn’t rise. His heart sunk. It was unfathomable. The richest, greenest jungle had deliberately withered.




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