Vous êtes sur le point de vous lancer dans une aventure qui a débuté il y a des millénaires de cela, alors que l’espèce magique des Peridots foulait la Terre. D’où venaient-ils ? Personne ne le sait. Nombreux furent ceux qui tentèrent de le découvrir, mais finalement, là n’est pas l’essentiel. Leur gentillesse et leur compassion sont tout ce qui importe vraiment. On raconte qu’ils existaient avant même les licornes et les fées, et comme eux, pendant bien longtemps, tout le monde pensait qu’ils n’étaient qu’une légende.

Il y a bien longtemps, avant le monde que nous connaissons aujourd’hui, la Terre était simple, avec des arbres simples et des oiseaux tout aussi simples. Nul bateau, nulle école, nulle plume pour coucher ses pensées sur le papier. Ce monde n’avait pas grand-chose, à l’exception de quelques rochers, de l’humus et d’un peu d’herbe…

Chaque heure qui passait, chaque jour et chaque nuit, le Violet et l’humain apprenaient à se connaître un peu plus. Au bout d’une semaine, Kee avait bien grandi. « Il pourra bientôt m’aider à faire des tâches plus complexes », pensa l’humain…

Après bien des efforts, jour et nuit, le Violet arriva enfin à l’âge adulte. L’humain était fier de voir le Peridot assumer davantage de responsabilités. Il pouvait survivre seul, vivre comme il l’entendait, et peut-être qu’un jour…

Cela faisait des mois que Kee, le Violet, avait dit au revoir à son ami barbu. Malgré le nuage de tristesse qui passait sur le cœur de chaque humain, leur chagrin ne durait pas. En effet, ils comprenaient que rien ne les différenciait de l’homme barbu et qu’un jour, peut-être même plus tôt qu’ils le pensaient, leurs Peridots les quitteraient à leur tour. Nul n’avait le pouvoir de lutter contre l’instinct animal des Peridots. Ils ne l’exprimaient pas tous à voix haute, mais en leur for intérieur, tous les humains savaient qu’une fois un Peridot parti du foyer, son départ n’était jamais synonyme d’oubli. Les souvenirs des bons moments, eux, restent.

Olo, notre ami au corps jaune et aux membres blancs, inspirait l’agacement. Plutôt coquin de nature, Olo imaginait des farces et des blagues qui ennuyaient humains et Peridot. Bien sûr, certains humains riaient à ses tours, et parfois même s’esclaffaient. Il arrivait à obtenir un gloussement ou deux. Un ricanement hebdomadaire, peut-être. Mais rares furent les rires en chœur. Il faut dire que ceux qui riaient n’étaient jamais le dindon de la farce. Et dès lors qu’ils étaient visés, ils cessaient de rire avec 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?