The sun was rising this morning brighter than ever, illuminating the jungles, the deserts and the rain forests of the great land of Saeva from edge to edge. His reddish golden glow wakes up the creatures of Saeva from their deep lethargy and, along with the message of a new day dawning, delivers the message of a new life that is about to begin. Today, the nature's beauty is at its zenith. Every tree, stream and flower is full of joy and life as they celebrate along with the breathing inhabitants of the land the birth of the werelion prince, Simba.

The werewolves are coming out of their caves, the centaurs are leaving the woods and gallop south and the shape-shifters take their animal form in order to arrive faster to their destination. All the creatures of the kingdom head towards the wide, unearthly beautiful and wild grassland which is the capital, the center and the beating heart of Saeva, the Pride Lands (named after its monarchs, the werelions' pride). But the common final destination is a much more special place: the Pride Rock. The Pride Rock is one of Saeva's wonders of nature: an enormous stone-made cave shaped as a throne in which the werelions' pride reside – and also, today, would be where the presentation of the newborn prince would take place. Every pack, herb and race in the kingdom gathered around the imposing structure, anticipating to see the newborn cub.

The werelions are the ruling race, the kings and queens of all Saeva. The ones who preserve the order and peace between the species, who form and wreak the Law of The Wild as it is called; according to which every species can hunt, shift, explore his second nature and discover their inner animal but only as long as their humanity remains intact. The current King, Mufasa, has been one of the greatest leaders of the pride and one of the keenest rulers Saeva has ever had and now his grand legacy would be continued through his son, Simba.

On top of Pride Rock, standing near the very pointing edge so as all his subjects can see him, in his human form but yet in all his imposing and majestic glory, it's King Mufasa. The warm tropical wind blows through his tawny hair, his expression is strong, wise and serious and his posture reflects power and majesty – ideal look for a King.

A shadow appeared in the sky, a bird with wings in the all the shades of blue, golden beak and sharp talons. It flew above the heads of the attending beings and it finally landed in front of King Mufasa. Then the bird grew bigger, his wings and talons turned into human limbs and his colorful feathers turned into a cyan clamys. A middle-aged man with dark hair, kind brown eyes and a smile filled with respect now stands in the place of the bird and bows before the King. Mufasa responds to this gesture of admiration with a thankful nod of his head and a light smile. The man's name is Zazu, he is a shape-shifter with the power to transform into a bird, a skill which has earned him the place as Mufasa's eyes and ears in the sky and his personal counselor. Zazu takes his place next to the King and gazed down at the crowd.

Suddenly the crowd opens so as to Rafiki – the wisest among druids, a servant of the werelions' pride and a dear friend of King Mufasa – passes through. The old druid walks arching by werejaguars, weretigers and shape-shifters of all kinds, carrying his cane for balance as he's climbing up the side of the Pride Rock. When Rafiki gets to the top, he and Mufasa exchange a warm friendly embrace and the two men lead the old druid to the inside of the cave.

There they find Queen Sarabi – Mufasa's beloved lioness – sitting cross-legged upon her leather beddings and holding her sleeping son in her arms. All the other members of the pride were sitting around the Queen, keeping her company and admiring the newborn prince, but once their Alpha walked into, the crowd spread across the room making space for the King to pass and approach his Queen. Mufasa wrapped his arms around his wife, Sarabi rested her head upon his chest and the two overjoyed parents gazed full of love at their dear child. Simba was a perfect-looking human baby, – all the werelions were born humans and their animal side was coming into surface later in life –, with flawless skin and beautiful facial characteristics. The only sign of his lion side was his eyes, two orangish brown gems which one day would turn to fiery glowing red – the color of an Alpha, the same color that Mufasa's eyes had. Sarabi placed a kiss upon Simba's forehead, the little cub woke up and stared back at his parents. Rafiki approached the happy family and knelled before them so as to have a better look at Simba – the little fellow titled his head staring at the druid and Rafiki gave him a smile – and start the established custom of the presentation day.

He would perform a ritual which would acknowledge Simba as a part of the pride, a royal, a future King and the Alpha werelion. Rafiki started making circles with his cane above Simba's head, and as the cane was moving, the three sacred spheres which were attached to the tip began to dance around, – something which made the little one stretch his tiny arms in an attempt to catch them –, symbolizing the sun, the moon and the stars giving their blessing to the young prince. Afterwards, Rafiki cracked a blood-red fruit open, dipped his fingers inside its thick crimson liquid and painted Simba's forehead. The red paint was a symbol of blood and blood was the symbol of warriors and predators; consequently the symbol of the werelions' race, and the red mark upon Simba's forehead meant that he would become a great warrior one day. Ending, the druid took a handful of earthly ash and threw it all over Simba's face, acknowledging him as the future ruler of this land. The ash tickled the little one's nose, causing him to let out an adorable weak sneezing sound that made his parents chuckle. Now that the ritual was over, Rafiki removed Simba from Sarabi's loving arms, carefully took him into his own and carried him outside accompanied by the King, the Queen and Zazu.

The royal couple stood at a point of the sharp-edged Rock from where all of their subjects could see and worship them, and the bird-man took his rightful place, as the King's faithful, left from Mufasa. Rafiki passed them and walked all the way to the very pointed edge of the Rock and when he reached it, he held Simba in his hands and raised him high above his head. The ecstatic crowd bursts out in loud cheers which fill the air and echo at every inch of the Pride Lands, as they encounter the face of their new prince. Their adoration is expressed in the form of rejoiced howls, screams of delight and excited clatters that where causing the earth to shake; and even though Simba is only a baby cub, his curious eyes are captivating every second of this amazing image.

And then it happened. The clouds departed only above Simba's head and a heavenly light came down from the skies and washed over the young prince. A divine miracle, a phenomenon of pure magic. A sign omening something important. All creatures stared in awe at the marvelous sight and then bowed before their prince.

And just like that, Simba's place in the circle of life has been formalized and sealed. His journey has begun and is predicted to be a great one.

LATER THAT DAY

The naive rat made the fatal mistake to finally come out from its hiding spot. It didn't even have time to blink – let alone run away – before the keen and cunning predator manages to capture it in his hand and cage it with his claws.

The specific predator is not a common werelion. His name is Scar, he is a royal and the brother of King Mufasa. He once was a Beta, he was close with his family and he was one of the possible successors to the throne. Even though Scar had the sharpest mind and a respectful amount of strength and power, he never used them for good. He was always mischievous, troubled, unstable and, in his extreme moments, vicious, while Mufasa was virtual. He was wise, brave, the strongest and most powerful of all werelions, always made the right choices and knew what was the best for himself and for the ones around him – so of course he was the best choice for a King. But Scar thought otherwise, he believed he was the one who deserved to be a King and he was furious that Mufasa was the one chosen. That fury soon turned into passionate jealousy, which lead him to envious, reckless and rebellious actions that eventually made his family and his people think of him as a bad seed. Mufasa knew he had to do something in order to punish and discipline his brother, so he degraded him to an Omega. But Mufasa wasn't cruel. Even though he gave Scar the life of the pride's unwanted outcast he did not take his family right. He remained a royal, he could interact with his family and still had all the obligations going with – and unsurprisingly he was still in line for the throne – in hope that one day he would come to his senses and repent for his past mistakes.

But obviously that day hadn't come yet because there he is right now; with his honor tainted, living alone in the lower levels of the Pride Rock, forced to feed of the bones and leftovers from the pride's meal or the rats that are hiding in the chasms on the wall – both of which options are barely enough to satisfy his hunger. As the time was passing by, the misery and envy that had occupied his soul only grew stronger, feeding the evil inside of him which eventually took over and consumed his heart and soul. He feels nothing anymore rather than greed and hatred, his only desire, ambition and concern is to take revenge upon his brother and the pride who wronged him and become the King. But that won't be an easy task to accomplish especially now that the little filth, Simba, has come to the picture. Taking what he wants most might seems impossible at the moment, but Scar is smart and determined to find a way to make it happen.

Scar catches the unfortunate rodent from its tail and picks it up from the ground. The werelion enjoys taunting his prey before he devours it, so he lets it struggle in order to free itself from his grip but it's hopeless. Scar's claws have now become a prison for the poor little animal.

"Life it's not fair, is it?" said Scar with his voice full of grievance, addressing both to the rat and himself. "You see I...well I shall never be King". He looses his grip a little bit and the rat starts running upon his fingers. Scar laughs at the rodent as it jumps of the tip of his fingers and he catches it while it is in the air. "And you...shall never see the light of another day. Hmm-hmm-hmm, adieu " he mocks. He opens his mouth widely and lets the rat hanging over his bared teeth.

"Didn't your mother ever tell you not to play with your food?" an irritating throaty voice echoed and it didn't take long for Scar to understand to whom it belonged to. He turned around and saw Zazu standing in front of him, wearing a ceremonial cyan clamys, his arms crossed in front of his chest in a censorious way and with that reproving look on his face that always get on Scar's nerves. His appetite was lost in seconds.

The werelion scoffed. "What do you want?" he said. He was in no mood to hear that annoying fowl's preaching. Zazu tilted his head, slightly smiled and took a small bow. "I'm here to announce that King Mufasa is on his way" he said using his formal voice and then he was back on scolding Scar with his look. "You better have a good excuse for missing the ceremony this morning". That explains the formal dress, thought Scar. He was so indifferent to Simba that the ceremony didn't even cross his mind. Mufasa would be down right mad at him but that wouldn't bother him. He couldn't care less about what his brother thought.

Or...maybe it would be better to care. Maybe he should start playing nice to his brother. That way he would start trusting him again. That's it! What a better way to destroy someone than getting close to him and learning his weaknesses? If he could approach Mufasa enough to catch him off guard he could make him fall right into his doom.

Lost as he was in his thoughts, he unwittingly loosed his grasp on the rat, resulting on the little animal running away and hiding back in one of the holes in the wall. "Oh Zazu you just made me lose my lunch" said Scar with a fake pitiful voice. "Ha! You'll lose more than that when he gets to you. He is as mad as a hormonal werewolf during full moon time" said Zazu.

Scar's look turned sinister and he bared his teeth once again. "Oh I quiver with fear" he hissed and started walking menacingly towards Zazu. He had enough of that stupid bird, and since his meal had run away, he decided to grab a bite out of something else. Zazu took a few cautious steps back. "Come on now Scar, don't look at me that way..." he mumbled with his voice trembling from terror. He quickly shifted to a bird and tried to fly away from the danger but his attempt was in vain. "Help!" he half-croaked/half-cried before the werelion captures him with his mouth and close him between his jaws.

"Scar" Mufasa's angry growl hit Scar's ears. He tried to say something but his mouth was full so the only thing that came out was a purr. "Drop him" Mufasa demanded. Zazu's beak popped out of Scar's mouth and said: "Impeccable timing your majesty". Scar spat Zazu out of his mouth and the bird-man looked full of disgust at his spittle-covered wings. Even and when he shifted back to a man, his clothes and his hair were filled with saliva.

"Why! If it isn't my big brother descending from on high to mingle with the commoners" said Scar sarcastically while walking around, disdaining the presence of his brother. Mufasa was standing straight and tall, and even though his face was emotionless, a small spark of anger was burning in his eyes.

By looking at the two brothers, you could see that it wasn't just their personalities who differ. Mufasa had wheaten skin, brownish golden hair, strong body and face structure and fiery red eyes while Scar's hair were as black as the night, his skin too tanned from the too much exposure to the sun, his body slightly slimmed from the lack of food and his eyes had the wicked green color of all Omega had (the color of the eyes was a common change when a werelion was moving from one place to another). Also Scar had one big battle scar across his left eye from the first time he ever got into a fight – and won – when he was still a kid (it was such a significant feature that was named after it, his birth name has been long forgotten). At first sight, you could barely tell they were related. They were as different as day and night.

"Sarabi and I didn't see you at the presentation of Simba" said Mufasa sharply. "That was today? Oh, I feel simply awful" the last word didn't sound very clearly cause Scar scratched the stony wall with his claws, something which made Zazu grind his teeth. Even the thought of apologizing for something he had no intension regretting, sickened Scar. "Must have slipped my mind" he tried to justify himself.

"Well as slippery as your mind is, as the King's brother you should have been first in line!" said Zazu bringing his face close to Scar's so as look more intimidating. Scar threated Zazu with bitting him, smiled wickedly at the bird-man and Zazu hid behind Mufasa for protection. "I was first in line till that little brat-kitten was born" Scar growled at the bird-man. Mufasa got between Scar and Zazu, forcing his brother to look him in the eye and meet his unwavering, flaming death glare. "That little brat-kitten is my son. And your future King" his words were sharp like blades and serious as the law itself. If anyone else dared to get into a fight with Mufasa would have been crushed by the King's powerful and imposing personality. A reasonable being wouldn't even think to test his boundaries in the first place, but Scar wasn't from the reasonable ones. "Oh, I shall have to practice my curtsy" he quipped, made a sarcastic gesture and turned around, heading to the cave's exit. "Don't turn your back on me Scar!" Mufasa commanded. "Oh Mufasa, maybe you shouldn't turn your back on me" said Scar without any hesitation.

That was the last drop, the striking nail upon Mufasa's nerves. The angry werelion let out a loud roar and with one super-speedy move he got in front of Scar. "Is that a challenge?" he growled, exposing two rows of sharp teeth and pairs of fangs. Scar changed his attitude and tried to look respectful and maybe a little intimidated, there was no use in causing his brother's rage. "Temper, temper. I wouldn't dream of challenging you" he said in his most sincere voice. Zazu popped out from behind Mufasa and gave a skeptical glare at Scar. "Pity. Why not?" he said. Scar raised his eyes on the bird-man. "Because as far as brains are concerned, I got the lion's share. But when it comes to brute strength" he now glares enviously at Mufasa but he quickly gets rid of his hostility – if he wants to get close to the King, the best approach is to earn his sympathy. "I suppose I'm the shallow one in the gene pool" he said, passing by the two men and exiting the cave, with a doleful expression on his face.

Zazu let's out a sigh when Scar leaves the cave. "There's one in every family sire. Two in mine, actually" he grinned. "And they always manage to ruin special occasions" he said giving Mufasa a friendly pat on the shoulder. Mufasa shook his head skeptically while gazing at the horizon, as if he was expecting for a sign which would help him understand his brother. "What am I going to do with him?" said Mufasa and the torment in his voice was real. Zazu thought of it for a second. "He'd make a very handsome throw rug" he proposed with a wide smirk spreading across his face. "Zazu!" Mufasa said surprised, but couldn't help himself from laughing at the idea. "And just think, Whenever he gets dirty you can take him out and beat him" said Zazu and both of them laughed.

And after saying those words, the King and the counselor, head back to their homes laughing. The intensity of the previous moments have already start to fade.

LATER THAT NIGHT

Tonight the rain is pouring heavy as waterfalls, overflowing the rivers and the streams and making the hot, scorching ground of the Pride Lands to steam. It is almost midnight and every creature in the grassland is peacefully sleeping. Everyone except one curtain druid.

Rafiki is busy tonight. He is obligated to complete one final task that is required to be done on the presentation day. On the outskirts of the Pride Lands, at the place where the race of druids lives, there is a tree, (a humongous thing, as old as time and tall till the sky), called the Tree of Life. Every time a new creature was born, it was a druid's job to draw a picture of him on the Tree of Life and upon the trunk of this tree his life story would be written. And that's exactly what Rafiki is doing at the moment for the newest arrival.

A couple of brushes there, some color on the hair and eyes, the light brush of a finger to create some shades on the cheekbones and the angles of the face, and it was ready. The picture of a young boy with dirty blond hair, glowing orangish brown eyes, slightly tanned reflection and a slimmed yet muscled body. The boy he is gonna become. Simba.