Neval's Den

Born to an infertile mother, Neval was looked upon as a curse from birth. There was an old tale, something that went along the lines of infertility being the mark of a bad omen. Should an infertile lass bear cubs, it’s certain her offspring’s conception stems from a supernatural force. What that force exactly was, no one could decipher. But there Neval was. Small, young, squeaking life newly entered into the world. There was just one cub in the litter, and it was him. Nobody gave a second thought for him. There was no empathy, no hesitation. He was abandoned from the get-go.

Luckily for him, his fate wasn’t so unfortunate. These lands had something sacred behind them, something peculiar.
A long line of mysterious shamans long since disappeared used this land for their work. Their exact work was unknown, but their presence in these lands was a surefooted fact. Their whereabouts raise questions whenever brought up - what really happened to them, where did they go? Perhaps their mystifying spirits are what remain?

Something kept Neval alive. He ended up making it to his adolescence, following into adulthood. He could barely remember what happened during his cubhood, but he should’ve died. No way could a vulnerable cub like that survive all on his own.

He didn’t let it eat at him, instead, he found distractions; he gathered the beautiful lionesses roaming the lands, bringing them in and forming a pride. They bore his cubs, and Neval felt a sense of belonging - only it was temporary. A new irritation was bothering him, the constant feeling as though he had responsibilities to take care of elsewhere instead of leading a pride. As if his true purpose was out there somewhere, or contained within these strange, shamanic lands.

It nagged at him, not sparing him peace for a second. So, eventually, he left his wives and cubs, searching for the source of this unbelonging.

For several weeks he’d roam the lands seemingly haunted by the shamanic spirits. A single drop of clearance wouldn’t fall his way until he had a vision, a trance, some may call it. Most of it is unable to be remembered, but what comes back to him is a glimpse of the future.
The spirits themselves tell him, that something significant is to come, to the lands, his pride, and to himself. That his purpose is to bring about the changes leading to the path of significance, to make that significance happen. To change his own destiny, the destiny of those around him. It is why he is here, to change.

Through Neval's vision, he picked up on something else as well, the long line of shamans eventually all boiled down to one lion, him. He will be the one to lead, to give direction to his pride, help them achieve whatever destiny is meant to come. He was simply meant to be a shaman like that all this time.

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