TLK: His Unrestful Soul

One

He was too weak and lithe to lift his own head or even open his own eyes. Without his mother he was helpless, but he rarely left her side. Even when he did, it was to be under the protection of his grandmother, or the shaman that had saved him from certain death a dozen times over, or one of the dozens of other lions who would die to protect him.

And so he slept for at least twenty hours out of the day. He woke to feed and then he slept again and for the better part of a fortnight, that was all he did. In this manner, the cub started to gain weight, and the gaunt chalky fur on his body started to cling to him once again. His fur he had inherited from his father, and already a few flaming strands of hair indicated where his mane would someday grown. In all other aspects he was similar to his mother, from the shape of his face, to the beginnings of the sleek elegant grace she displayed with every motion.

The sickness he had been afflicted with at birth, whatever it was, was gone, chased away by the power of his naming and his father's pilgrimage. And so, in time, Kopa grew to be very nearly a chubby healthy little lion cub. Nothing less was expected of the future king.

The first thing he saw in his life was his mother. It happened unexpectedly and all at once, after he was finished feeding. When Nala adjusted the position of her body and waited for him to sleep again, he sniffed at the air, faced her, and then opened his eyes. He was the image of his father, even at his age, and his grandfather before his father. And when Nala saw that, she couldn't keep the happy tears from her eyes.

But he quickly became troublesome, the future Lion King. His eyes open and his health regained, it was all his mother could do to keep him close. The slightest indication of exhaustion or a lack of attention and he left her side to go scamper off into the depths of Pride Rock, or, worse, to the open stone peak outside.

More than once she had to pounce on him and carry him back to where he belonged by the scruff of his neck. It wearied her, but at the same time, it gave her pride. To show that sort of bravery at that age... he really was his father's son.

Until dawn, he was his mother's son, and until his father returned, she was the only parent he had. This much Kopa gleaned from the soft words she occasionally purred to him, though he still couldn't articulate words of his own. And this he took to mean that, in the shadowy hours before dawn, he was free.

And he had come to recognize those hours that were too early to be called day but too late to be called night. There was something in the air in those hours, a sort of dry cold dustiness that made the young prince hide his nose under his paws to avoid sneezing. Then he stood up and carefully slipped away from his mother. He missed the warmth of her body, but-for just a few minutes-he could be alone. And he could explore.

He began by patrolling the perimeters of the cave within Pride Rock. No dimension or demarcation missed his inspection, and although the big dark open outside still scared he, he patrolled that, too, and hazarded a glance outside. He recognized the stone outcropping for what it was, but could make no sense of the twinkling starlit sky and the terrain beyond. He understood that there was a world outside of the cave, and that that world was big, but... no world could be that big. No Lion King, not even one who was spoken of as reverently as his father was, could be King of such an expanse.

His patrol finished, Kopa made to return to his mother. Dawn would come soon; then he might mewl and prod at her until she relented and fed him again. But a flicker of movement in the shadows caught his eye.

At first he thought it was someone's tail, and so he stifled the instinct to duck low, crawl forward, and then, at just the right moment, pounce. He'd already earned a clout on the head for that once, before his victim realized who he was.

But when Kopa looked closer, he could see no tails twitching. The only one in that corner of the cave was a mother and the only other child in the pride, a cub barely a few months older than him, and his mother, and both of them slept soundly and still. It was likely nothing, nothing more than a trick of the light and and odd shadow, but already Kopa grasped that he was the future Lion King. It was his responsibility and his duty to investigate.

Besides, it would be fun.

Noiselessly, and with all the grace of his mother, Kopa crouched and silently began to creep forward. He often had to stop and plan his way through the tangle of sleeping bodies in the cave, but, in time, it was worth it. He achieved an overlook of the cub in question, and his mother. And then he watched and he waited.

And nothing happened.

His duty done and his mind calmed, Kopa began to stand. Dawn really was soon, and that meant that his mother would awake. If she awoke without him at her side, she might clout him again, as she had taken to doing when he misbehaved too much-

And that was when it appeared.

What was it? A gaunt shadow? A moving cluster of dust? Whatever it was, Kopa both saw it and saw through it, and it was too hazy and ethereal to define anyway. But whatever it was, it hissed and slithered through the air like a waft of wind through a hollow in the rocks.

And it was heading right for the cub.

Kopa wanted to squeal, or mewl, or something, but terror silenced him. And so he watched as that phantom shadow descended upon the other cub with a flash of transparent teeth-and then vanished.

The malicious presence in the air was gone. And so, a few silent moments later, Kopa stood.

Everything was alright, as far as he could see. Neither the cub nor the mother were harmed, and the rest of the lions were still breathing softly and sleeping-and then he felt a ray of warmth on his backside. The sun was rising and his mother was stirring, and so, all thoughts of the aberration forgotten, Kopa loped back to her and dove into position and acted as if he too was just waking up.

She smiled at him as she always did. He batted at her whiskers as he always did. And then he darted to the safety of her side as a shriek pierced the early dawn serenity of Pride Rock.

The cub had gone to sleep so full of life and light the night before. But he hadn't woken up. And he would never wake up, ever, ever again.