Estás a punto de iniciar un viaje que empezó hace miles de años, cuando una especie mágica conocida como Peridots bendijo esta tierra. Nadie sabe de dónde proceden. Aventurarse a proponer un origen es inútil, pues su parentesco y bondad es lo único que importa. Los rumores de su existencia son anteriores a los del unicornio y los duendes, y como en el caso de estas criaturas fantásticas, se cree que el Peridot no es más que fantasía.

Hace muchísimo tiempo, antes de que existiera el mundo tal y como lo conocemos, no había más que tierra, árboles y pájaros. No había barcos, escuelas ni siquiera plumas para anotar las ideas de las personas. Poco había en este mundo, salvo rocas, polvo y hierba…

El Morado y los humanos se volvieron más cercanos a cada hora, día y noche que pasaba. Pasada una semana, Kee era visiblemente mayor y más grande. “Pronto me podrá ayudar con las tareas más pesadas”, pensó el humano…

Tras muchos cuidados, día sí y día también, el Morado pasó de joven a adulto en todo su esplendor. El humano se sintió orgulloso del cada vez mayor sentido de la responsabilidad del Peridot. Podría vivir solo y si así lo hiciera…

Einige Monate sind vergangen, seit Kee, das Lilafarbene, von seinem bärtigen Freund Abschied genommen hat. Unter den Menschen breitete sich Niedergeschlagenheit aus, die jedoch nur von kurzer Dauer war. Die Menschen hatten erkannt, dass es ihnen genauso wie dem bärtigen Mann ergehen würde. Eines Tages – vielleicht schon sehr bald – würden auch ihre Peridots sie verlassen. Niemand konnte etwas gegen den Instinkt der Peridots ausrichten. Die Menschen waren sich einig, zumindest mit sich selbst, dass sie ihre Peridots niemals vergessen würden, auch wenn sie sie eines Tages verlassen. Die glücklichen Momente würden sie für immer in Erinnerung behalten.

Olo, nuestro amigo de cuerpo amarillo y patas blancas, enfadó a muchos. Olo era travieso, se inventaba trastadas y artimañas que frustraban tanto a los humanos como a los Peridots. Los humanos se reían, claro, aunque yo diría más bien que soltaban alguna carcajada. Una risita por aquí o por allá. Una sonrisa a la semana. Pero rara vez se oían risotadas a coro con lagrimillas incluidas. Los que reían nunca eran el blanco de las bromas, pero cuando les tocaba a ellos, ya no les hacía tanta gracia ese tal Olo.

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?