| Chapter Two |
Jozay breathed in the thin, pure air, and as he did he said a silent thank you to Sozo for the simple ability to do so. Never
one to take something for granted, the young male cub was grateful for every breath, especially at this altitude where
even some plants surrendered to the lack of oxygen. He sat on the Royal Cave high atop the Izusa Escarpment, dwelling
on the mysteries of life that had been his focus for some time. The Pridelanders’ Circle of Life and Great Kings of the
Past, the Izusans’ Sozo, his father’s Living Circle, old king Mufasa’s Great Spirit… what were the connections? Where did
the truth lie?
Though his color and spirit of adventure definitely came from his mother Zoay, he had inherited much from his father
Jothra. The darker toe-tips and snout and one blue eye were the limit of the physical resemblance, although he was also
expected to inherit the Mark of the Destined One when his mane started to come in. Jothra’s early maturity had also
found its way into Jozay; but whereas the father had come into adult romantic feelings as a cub, the son had discovered a
true love for knowledge and wisdom. Jothra was a Wise One in addition to being their people’s ruler, and Jozay wanted to
be just like him.
And so he found himself many days and evenings in quiet contemplation and meditation on concepts that were mainly
the realm of scattered shamans and Wise Ones. His subjects respected him, of course, he was their prince, their heir,
their likely Destined One. His mother the queen seemed somewhat worried that he wasn’t getting out enough, but the
occasional mother-son adventure into the jungle—to practice stealth despite their bright color--kept her happy.
‘Let no one despise your youth,’ his father had once told him. Which meant not letting it get to you when they looked
down you because of your youth, but it also meant trying not to give anyone reason to despise your youth. And so Jozay
shrugged off any whisperings he might hear about what ‘normal’ cub behavior should be and looked forward to the day
when he could take his place as the wisest and best-prepared Destined One in the history of the Izusa Escarpment.
“Sozo. Living Circle. Great Spirit. Great Kings of the Past. Circle of Life. Show me the truth.” Jozay whispered softly to
himself. Oh, how he wanted to know, to understand. His pride and kingdom had always directed prayers to Sozo, and he
definitely felt the most powerful resonance with that concept. But the Circle of Life certainly made sense—it was all
around him. His father Jothra had devoted his wise studies to the duality of the Circle of Life and the Living Circle, which
also had an undeniable logic to it. Pride Rock’s lions and their older Wise One Rafiki, Jothra’s mentor, always looked to
the Great Kings of the Past for guidance, particularly Mufasa. But Mufasa himself had in life sought to draw his pride’s
spiritual focus to the Great Spirit.
So what was true? Could he ever know? “Sozo, if you can hear me, please help me understand. Make yourself real to
me.” Somehow, the words aloud felt more real and more powerful than his inner thoughts had. “There’s so much
confusion, Sozo, so many maybes. So many what ifs. Help me see clearly.” The feeling of quiet power growing inside of
him was undeniable. He felt his voice growing too, beyond a whisper. Nearby pride members could probably hear him, but
he didn’t care just yet. He could actually feel something. “I want to see over the confusion, Sozo. I want to be above it and
unhindered by it. I want to freely soar!” Now his heart was racing, his adrenaline surging, his muscles flexing. He could
feel a tingle at the base of his neck and along his sternum. He repeated himself, now shouting, he couldn’t help it. “I want
to freely soar! Soar like an eagle! Sozo, grant me wings!”
Suddenly, a shooting pain overcame him. Jozay yelped in shock more than from the pain as he could feel his chest
burning, spreading outward and around, coming to sharp pricks of pain just below his shoulder blades. The muscles in
his chest started twitching uncontrollably, and though it was nothing compared to the pain, he could also make out a
slight tickle on the left side of his face.
It was over as quickly as it had started, leaving Jozay panting and stretching his muscles out. His shoulders felt heavier
somehow. Suddenly he became aware of the entire pride below him staring up at him in silent shock. Self-consciously he
lowered himself closer to the rock, and as he did, something entered his peripheral vision on either side: something that
looked a lot like big, feathery wingtips. In utter confusion, he craned his neck this way and that to get a better look at
whatever was on top of him, and as he did, he sensed that his balance was drastically different from what it had been a
few moments ago. As he reached his left foreleg up to try to grab at the feathers, he felt what he could only describe as
an extra muscle in his chest extend, and the feathers went higher, out of his reach.
At last, he got it. It made no sense at all, but he got it. He brought his paw down and focused on the extra muscles,
retracting them. The wings—for that was what they were—came together in front of his face, blocking out the sun. He
held them there for a moment, coming to grips with what had just transpired. In asking for understanding, something very
confusing had just happened. Sozo had apparently granted his request… quite literally.
Jozay, the lion cub, had grown wings!
one to take something for granted, the young male cub was grateful for every breath, especially at this altitude where
even some plants surrendered to the lack of oxygen. He sat on the Royal Cave high atop the Izusa Escarpment, dwelling
on the mysteries of life that had been his focus for some time. The Pridelanders’ Circle of Life and Great Kings of the
Past, the Izusans’ Sozo, his father’s Living Circle, old king Mufasa’s Great Spirit… what were the connections? Where did
the truth lie?
Though his color and spirit of adventure definitely came from his mother Zoay, he had inherited much from his father
Jothra. The darker toe-tips and snout and one blue eye were the limit of the physical resemblance, although he was also
expected to inherit the Mark of the Destined One when his mane started to come in. Jothra’s early maturity had also
found its way into Jozay; but whereas the father had come into adult romantic feelings as a cub, the son had discovered a
true love for knowledge and wisdom. Jothra was a Wise One in addition to being their people’s ruler, and Jozay wanted to
be just like him.
And so he found himself many days and evenings in quiet contemplation and meditation on concepts that were mainly
the realm of scattered shamans and Wise Ones. His subjects respected him, of course, he was their prince, their heir,
their likely Destined One. His mother the queen seemed somewhat worried that he wasn’t getting out enough, but the
occasional mother-son adventure into the jungle—to practice stealth despite their bright color--kept her happy.
‘Let no one despise your youth,’ his father had once told him. Which meant not letting it get to you when they looked
down you because of your youth, but it also meant trying not to give anyone reason to despise your youth. And so Jozay
shrugged off any whisperings he might hear about what ‘normal’ cub behavior should be and looked forward to the day
when he could take his place as the wisest and best-prepared Destined One in the history of the Izusa Escarpment.
“Sozo. Living Circle. Great Spirit. Great Kings of the Past. Circle of Life. Show me the truth.” Jozay whispered softly to
himself. Oh, how he wanted to know, to understand. His pride and kingdom had always directed prayers to Sozo, and he
definitely felt the most powerful resonance with that concept. But the Circle of Life certainly made sense—it was all
around him. His father Jothra had devoted his wise studies to the duality of the Circle of Life and the Living Circle, which
also had an undeniable logic to it. Pride Rock’s lions and their older Wise One Rafiki, Jothra’s mentor, always looked to
the Great Kings of the Past for guidance, particularly Mufasa. But Mufasa himself had in life sought to draw his pride’s
spiritual focus to the Great Spirit.
So what was true? Could he ever know? “Sozo, if you can hear me, please help me understand. Make yourself real to
me.” Somehow, the words aloud felt more real and more powerful than his inner thoughts had. “There’s so much
confusion, Sozo, so many maybes. So many what ifs. Help me see clearly.” The feeling of quiet power growing inside of
him was undeniable. He felt his voice growing too, beyond a whisper. Nearby pride members could probably hear him, but
he didn’t care just yet. He could actually feel something. “I want to see over the confusion, Sozo. I want to be above it and
unhindered by it. I want to freely soar!” Now his heart was racing, his adrenaline surging, his muscles flexing. He could
feel a tingle at the base of his neck and along his sternum. He repeated himself, now shouting, he couldn’t help it. “I want
to freely soar! Soar like an eagle! Sozo, grant me wings!”
Suddenly, a shooting pain overcame him. Jozay yelped in shock more than from the pain as he could feel his chest
burning, spreading outward and around, coming to sharp pricks of pain just below his shoulder blades. The muscles in
his chest started twitching uncontrollably, and though it was nothing compared to the pain, he could also make out a
slight tickle on the left side of his face.
It was over as quickly as it had started, leaving Jozay panting and stretching his muscles out. His shoulders felt heavier
somehow. Suddenly he became aware of the entire pride below him staring up at him in silent shock. Self-consciously he
lowered himself closer to the rock, and as he did, something entered his peripheral vision on either side: something that
looked a lot like big, feathery wingtips. In utter confusion, he craned his neck this way and that to get a better look at
whatever was on top of him, and as he did, he sensed that his balance was drastically different from what it had been a
few moments ago. As he reached his left foreleg up to try to grab at the feathers, he felt what he could only describe as
an extra muscle in his chest extend, and the feathers went higher, out of his reach.
At last, he got it. It made no sense at all, but he got it. He brought his paw down and focused on the extra muscles,
retracting them. The wings—for that was what they were—came together in front of his face, blocking out the sun. He
held them there for a moment, coming to grips with what had just transpired. In asking for understanding, something very
confusing had just happened. Sozo had apparently granted his request… quite literally.
Jozay, the lion cub, had grown wings!
 |
| |
 |
| |
 |
| |
 |
| |
 |
