Hello, dear readers! This is the very beginning of a new series titled The Lion King Tales! This series will attempt to carry on the legacy of The Lion King Adventures, but it will definitely be its own unique series.

I would love to thank everyone who has given me advice and encouragement via PM messages, and I hope you enjoy this series. Without further ado, here is The Lion King Tales!

In the Beginning

Chapter One: The Pridelands

If there was one place on Earth that could be called a paradise, it was the Pridelands. The grass was the brightest shade of green, the sky was always blue, and the entire kingdom was filled with life.

Zebra and antelope herds bounded across the grasslands as they fed on the luscious plants; giraffes and elephants towered over the savannah; birds flew through the endless sky, and the lions; the rulers of this kingdom, led lives of luxury.

But the most magnificent part of the Pridelands was its main landmark, a massive monolith that towered over every noticeable part of the savannah.

Pride Rock.

Pride Rock was the home of the lions, including the many kings that had ruled over the kingdom. Like all of the other kingdoms, the Pridelands had been ruled by a great many kings, but the three most recent kings were the ones that had brought the most life and joy to the Pridelands.

First in this line was Mohatu, sometimes speculated to be the most enormous lion that ever lived. He guided the Pridelands and its residents through many trials and tribulations, and his golden-furred son Ahadi, though a harsher individual than his father, carried on this legacy. Ahadi had two sons, Mufasa and Taka, but picked Mufasa as his successor. Mufasa, the currently reigning king, would prove to be an even better ruler than either of his predecessors.

At this moment, Mufasa slept in the den inside Pride Rock, directly next to his mate and queen, Sarabi. Sarabi was a magnificent lioness, fit to be queen, and her soft, honey-like voice perfectly complimented the impressive baritone that characterized Mufasa. But as the king and queen slept, someone else was wide awake.

At the very edge of Pride Rock, a golden cub sat watching the sunrise. He was a typical-looking cub, thin but with some muscle, with golden fur that sparkled in the sunlight. His face bore a smirk, as it almost always did, and right now that smirk embodied his thoughts as he watched the kingdom slowly light up.

"All of this will be mine one day," he whispered to himself. "It's so beautiful. If I could be prince of any kingdom, this would be it."

This was Prince Simba, Mufasa and Sarabi's only cub. Noticing that his parents still were not awake, he bounded down the side of Pride Rock, eager to explore the kingdom.

As Simba made his way to the waterhole, looking at the beautiful sights before him, he realized something.

"It would be nice to share this with someone, wouldn't it? But I don't have any friends. There's so many cubs in this pride! I'm sure I could make friends with someone!"

As he lapped up the cold blue water, wondering how he might go about making friends, he raised his eyebrows as an idea dawned on him.

"I know just who to ask!"

He then ran straight towards a large rock formation not far from Pride Rock. As it was, Simba did have one friend, but because said friend was a family member, not to mention an adult, Simba had never really thought of him that way. Nonetheless, Simba knew that his "friend" would be able to help him befriend the other cubs.

On a high cliff, a lanky red lion with a glossy black mane was watching over the kingdom with a scornful eye. This was none other than Taka, Mufasa's younger brother, though an accident several years ago had left him with another name…

"Hey Uncle Scar!" a distinctive high-pitched voice shouted. Scar gritted his teeth. He didn't exactly wish to be disturbed at this moment, especially by his annoying little nephew, but he felt obliged to interact with him nonetheless.

Oh what does that little golden insect want now? Scar asked himself disdainfully. Can't he leave his poor old uncle be for at least another hour?

Simba bounded over to his uncle with a massive smile on his face. How Scar loathed that smile. Despite this, he put on a smile of his own.

"How is my favorite little nephew this morning?"

"Good," Simba answered. "But I have a question, Uncle Scar. We both know you're basically my best friend besides Dad, but how do you make real friends? You know, friends with cubs your own age?"

Scar raised his eyebrow at this. Why would Simba be asking him? Scar had no friends to speak of, unless his wife and cubs counted. He hated the word itself with a passion. However, he decided to give Simba some advice. It would give him more time for sleep, at least.

"Well Simba," he began in his characteristic drawl, "you could try several things. You could just approach cubs and tell them you're going to be the King. Then they have to respect you! If that doesn't work, you'll have to figure out something else."

"How did Dad make friends?" Simba asked. Simba was rather fond of Mufasa, and often followed his example on matters such as this.

Scar began to think back to when he and Mufasa were cubs, a time he tried desperately to forget. Although he could not fully remember how well it had worked for his brother, Scar did recall one method, and decided to pass it down to Simba.

"My dear nephew, your father simply watched prospective acquaintances to figure out the best way to approach them. It meant different circumstances for different friends, but if I remember correctly, it worked out fairly well. He met your mother that way, I do know that."

Simba then smiled a bigger smile than before, and as he bounded away, he turned around and shouted, "Thanks Uncle Scar!"

As he watched his nephew embark on the attempt to find a friend, Scar finally flopped over on his side and began to fall asleep.

Now that he's gone, Scar thought, I can get back to dreaming about the time I got Mufasa stuck in quicksand