Animalia

At the beginning there was Chaos.

 

The gods created the particle with the Homo Sapiens, and they believed it was salvation. Solis shared her light. Aura brought the breeze to the trees that Vita gifted from her seed. Unda created the seas and Humus the mountains. It was Anima who had the idea of creatures that resembled the gods, all coexisting in the particle. Chaos lost the battle. The orb ignited hope for the universe.

 

The little particle creatures lacked a soul, being this a “god-worthy” trait. This brought mayhem and great sadness to the particle. The gods came together and decided on it’s fate.

 

“The Homo Sapiens need guidance,” Solis assured.

 

“It’s too late to change it,” said Vita.

 

“Should we destroy it?” Unda timidly proposed.

 

“Unda, we should keep in mind why we created the particle in the first place,” roared Solis, “Chaos must not win!”

 

Unda felt small. You are not that powerful, Solis, she thought.

 

“I could make new creatures, ones that could link the Homo Sapiens and nature. It would guide them through a path clear of Chaos,” Anima eagerly spoke, “But they must have a soul. They must have the ability to know what is right and wrong and to look out for one another and their surroundings.”

 

Animalia, they called them. Sent one by one, slowly grew in numbers and significance. Anima made sure to link every god to a new creature.

        

         Lampyridae came first. Solis gifted her the light, the ability to shine through the dark. Firefly, she liked to call it sometimes. Buzzing at night, wishing good night with her protective personality. “Don’t worry,” she’d whisper to the Sapiens’ sleeping ears, “I’m here to protect you from the dark.”

 

         Then came Acinonyx, a slender quadruped with the ability to move as fast as the wind could blow. Aura fell in love and named it Cheetah. She’d teach Sapiens to run and enjoy every moment. “Feel the wind in your face, never stop feeling!”

 

         Gorilla was third, and Vita decided to keep its original name. She was big and fury and full of power, full of life and lessons. “The trees are our home, our food, our companions, and we must serve the trees,” Gorilla would lecture sitting under a shade.

 

         Suricatta came along, but Humus despised that name, so Meerkat became popular. She would teach Sapiens about the soil, how to use it responsibly. “Look! Here you can dig, dig, dig, dig and you’re done! Just place the seed down there and soon you’ll have a big orange tree.”

 

         Time passed and Anima created Pygocentrus for Unda, but she never claimed the creature. An adorable red-bellied, fast swimmer, and no god to guide her; Unda was mad at the gods and relentless to help with Anima’s plan. Still, Pygocentrus heard a voice in her head.

 

Piranha. Are you hungry, Piranha?

 

“I’m really hungry.”

Chaos taught Pygocentrus to feed off Sapiens who neared the lakes where she lived. The moment when the first drop of blood touched the water, all Sapiens forgot everything the rest of Anima’s creatures taught them and decided to reverse the lessons. Chaos ruled again. Salvation was no more. The gods knew this, and they stood and watched as the inevitable happened.

 

At the end, there was Chaos.

 

 

Andrea Barragán & Oscar Ruiz

View andreabarragan's Full Portfolio