You are about to embark upon a journey that started thousands of years ago, when a magical species known as Peridots graced this Earth. Where they came from, no one knows. To speculate is to pursue a fool’s errand, for their kinship and kindness are all that matter. Rumors of their existence predate those of the unicorn and pixy, and like the unicorn and pixy, the Peridot is thought of as nothing more than fantasy.

A long, long time ago, before there was the world we know today, there was a simple land with simple trees and simple birds. to capture one’s thoughts. There was little to this world, except for rocks, dirt, and grass…

The Purple One and the human grew closer with each passing hour, day, and night. A week had gone by and Kee was noticeably older and bigger. “Soon, it can help me with bigger tasks,” thought the human…

After much tending, day in and day out, the Purple One grew from a young adult to a fully grown one. The human took pride in the Peridot’s increasing sense of responsibility. It could live on its own, and in the chance that it would…

Several months passed since Kee, the Purple One, said goodbye to its bearded friend. Sadness spread from one human to the next, but lasted briefly. Humans understood they were no different from the bearded man. One day – perhaps one day soon – their Peridot would leave them as well. No one could break the forceful pull of the Peridot’s animal instinct. Every human agreed, at least to themselves, that once a Peridot leaves their care, it may be gone but never is it forgotten. Happy moments are just a memory away.

Olo, our friend with the yellow body and white limbs, inspired the annoyance of many. A mischievous sort, Olo drummed up tricks and ruses that frustrated humans and Peridots alike. Sure, there was laughter from humans—or more so, the occasional guffaw. Maybe a titter or two. A weekly chuckle perhaps. But seldom a chorus of giggles or chortles. Those who laughed were never the object of the trick. Once they were, they never laughed with Olo again.

Vida sported six pronged feathers in the proximity of what would be a Peridot’s tail. The plumage was sprawling and aquatic. Their colors possessed a certain depth of blue, only to be matched by the depth of blue of Vida’s caboose. Their ears and hind legs were turquoise and lithe. Their chest and front legs were white as snow … which, at the time of their birth, Vida had yet to see. Their face was a mixture of blue and gray, maudlin colors that did not reflect Vida’s mood or spirit. This was a vibrant, plucky companion. No human keeper had seen such a unique Peridot, for up to that point, diversity of the species remained confined to a few colors, a few tails, and a few ruffles around one’s head. Vida’s magnetism charmed many a human, some of whom hoped that their next Peridot would be as beautiful as, if not more so than, Vida.

Everyone admired Vida for their selflessness, and other Peridots strived to be like them. But when Vida became a teenager, the idolatry came to an end. While their gesture to create “Little Kingdoms for One and All” impacted Peridots and their keepers profoundly, Vida stumbled through life just like every other Peridot. They were no less clumsy, no less awkward, no less unknowing, and no less in need of companionship.

No one had seen anything like it. Peridots had now traveled the earth for dozens of years, expanded the reaches of their original land, made friends with thousands of humans. Yet no one – be it a human or Peridot – had ever come across anything like Anza.

After years away, the Purple One returned to visit the campgrounds which they once called home. The campgrounds comprised more humans than Kee remembered. More Peridots too. Lots more. The grounds themselves were now home to two schools, a Tawnis’s sanatorium (a veritable herald’s square with a primitively fashioned stage) and a cobbler’s shop, where humans would barter rare fruits and veg for sturdier sandals. Huts were aplenty and sheltered families of up to four people and two Peridots. Snug, yes. And cozy. To Kee, this was no mere village, but a little world, where everyone had a purpose and a place and somewhere to make friends.

Anza, now a teenager, stared wistfully at the hut deep into the forest. Humans had last seen the old man with the white beard harvesting acorns, but some claimed he did not return. Where Anza lived, there were now more humans than Peridots – vastly more in fact. After the Drought of Engura, many humans ventured forth in search of more fertile soil and took their Peridots with them. Those who stayed behind were older, had already raised Peridots, but no longer had any of their own to tend to. The desire was there, but … Peridots were elsewhere. What these people needed, Anza felt, were more Peridots. Alas, there was little Anza could do in that regard. In fact, there was little Anza could do in general. Except to wait.

At the same moment that Anza departed to their habitat, Kee returned to the forest. Like Anza before them, they scoured the land high and low for the old man with the white beard. When their search yielded sorrowful stares from others, Kee sat upon a tree stump, tearful, submerged in the memories of sweetness and bitter-sweetness of their beloved keeper.

Humans and Peridots were no strangers to storms. Over the years, they adopted resilience and quick-mindedness on where to take shelter, on how to preserve food, and on how to watch out for everyone. But sometimes, rare events occurred that were catastrophic and, on one or two occasions, cataclysmic. Sometimes, a catastrophic event would presage a cataclysmic one. The following was such an event.

A rumbling from the ground rattled from their slumber a red-bodied Peridot with spikes across its tergum and head. Retto was hot-tempered and did not like to be woken up by anyone or anything. Retto, and only Retto, was in control of their eight hours of shut-eye. With fresh eyes, Retto noticed there was no one to charge at or frown at with a menacing stare. Retto chalked it up to the wind and rested their head upon a raised stone to sleep some more.

Retto and the others found the new world a thrilling one. Peridots ranged in deeper colors and some had sinuous bodies and longer appendages than Retto was familiar with. One even neared the height of a human! Is it the food, Retto thought? Everyone ate the same onions, tomatoes, pears, and kelp, so it couldn’t have been the food. Hmm, what could it be?