Goa / Goa
Un saludos a todos, el siguiente relato fue inspirado por el arte digital de @xpilar, los invito a que visiten su blog. La imagen que motivó este relato es la siguiente.
Greetings to all, the following story was inspired by the digital art of @xpilar, I invite you to visit his blog. The picture that motivated this story is the following.
Goa
Al pie del túmulo, con sus incontables árboles Guragui, que se elevaban cual brazos al espacio, como tratando de alcanzar aquel mundo que miles de periodos atrás habían perdido, ellos observaban y recordaban a todos los otros que una vez, hace mucho, habían llegado a este nuevo mundo, que les había dado cobijo.
Madre, su planeta de origen, ya habría perecido, su órbita se había desestabilizado producto de la aproximación de una estrella errante, que puso su mundo en un espiran de aproximación a su estrella. Probablemente hoy las nubes de Madre habrán sido barridas por el viento estelar, y su superficie, otrora rica en agua y bosques, debía estar arrasada por el intenso calor y las erupciones de plasma.
Su camino desde Madre había sido largo y lleno de penurias, luchas intestinas en su sociedad llevaron a la muerte de muchos durante el trayecto, linajes enemistados, iniciaron una guerra por los espacios en las arcas, los alimentos escasearon y varias de las naves debieron ser abandonadas por el agotamiento de sus reactores.
Pero en buen momento lograron llegar a este nuevo planeta, su atmósfera era casi adecuada para ellos, y sus mares con abundancia de minerales disueltos, eran adecuados para sus especies acuáticas. Les pareció contradictorio que un planeta con tales condiciones, estuviera deshabitado, la Conciencia lo había puesto en su camino, justo cuando su existencia estaba a punto de acabar.
Él y sus otros él, eran la quincuagésima sexta generación de su linaje, sus madres originarias habían llegado a bordo de una de las nueve arcas que lograron completar el viaje desde Madre. Goa, “El regalo de la Conciencia”, era su nuevo mundo y esperaban que así fuera por muchas generaciones, como Madre lo había sido antes.
Aun conservaba las memorias de sus vidas en su antiguo mundo, recordaban a sus antecesores calentar sus cuerpos ante la luz de su estrella, extendiendo sus apéndices para aprovechar todo lo posible la radiación infrarroja, los aromas de las montañas, de árboles Guragui y de la niebla salobre que entre ellos se colaba desde los lagos, los largos periodos de hibernación entre sus otros él en las profundidades de la colmena.
La vida en Madre era tranquila y pacífica, ellos eran pocos, su raza estaba formado por veintisiete linajes y cada uno vivía tranquilamente en su respectiva región, sin embargo, cuando se vieron obligados a compartir arcas en su largo viaje, resurgieron enemistades que siempre se habían creído olvidados. Su tranquila raza, degeneró en una especie belicosa y conflictiva. En una constante lucha por el espacio y la comida.
Al llegar a Goa y encontrarse con un mundo tan amable, estas enemistades quedaron atrás y nuevamente, los sobrevivientes del viaje, ahora reducidos a diecinueve linajes, habían encontrado la paz.
Ahora esta paz, se veía amenazada por la llegada de los humanos, quienes se decían los pobladores originales de Goa. El que las matriarcas hayan decidido dejarlos hacer su voluntad y andar de un lado a otro, escarbando en antiguas edificaciones, no había sido del agrado de algunos linajes y nuevamente las antiguas enemistades surgían entre ellos.
Él y sus otros él, decidieron emprender camino a la colmena, pronto se haría de día y el periodo de maternidad se aproximaba, así que la actividad llegaría a su máximo, debían regresar a resguardar los pasillos del área de la guardería, donde con frecuencia, los infantes se metían en problemas mientras estaban a la espera de sus madres. Al despedirse del túmulo y sus hermosos árboles, deseaban que su especie haya aprendido de aquellos turbulentos periodos en las arcas, cuando estuvieron a punto de exterminarse unos a otros.
Goa
At the foot of the burial mound, with its countless Guragui trees that rose like arms to space, as if trying to reach that world that thousands of periods ago had lost, they observed and remembered all the others that once, long ago, had reached this new world, which had given them shelter.
Mother, her home planet, would have already perished, her orbit had been destabilized as a result of the approach of a wandering star, which put her world in a spiral of approaching her star. Probably today Mother clouds will have been swept by the stellar wind and its surface, once rich in water and forests, must have been devastated by the intense heat and plasma eruptions.
His journey from Mother had been long and full of hardships, internal struggles in his society led to the death of many during the journey, enmity lineages, began a war for the spaces in the ark, food was scarce and several of the ships had to be abandoned by the exhaustion of their reactors.
But in good time they managed to reach this new planet, their atmosphere was almost right for them, and their seas with an abundance of dissolved minerals, were suitable for their aquatic species. It seemed contradictory to them that a planet with such conditions was uninhabited, Consciousness had put it in its path, just when its existence was about to end.
He and his others he, was the fifty-sixth generation of his lineage, their original mothers had come aboard one of the nine ark that managed to complete the journey from Mother. Goa, "The Gift of Consciousness," was their new world and they hoped that it would be so for many generations, as Mother had been before.
They still retained the memories of their lives in their ancient world, reminded their ancestors to warm their bodies to the light of their star, extending their appendages to make the most of the infrared radiation, the scents of the mountains, Guragui trees and the brackish mist that ran through them from the lakes, the long periods of hibernation among his others he in the depths of the hive.
Life in Mother was calm and peaceful, they were few, their race was formed by twenty-seven lineages and each lived quietly in their respective region, however, when they were forced to share the ark in their long journey, resentments that were always They had believed forgotten. His calm race degenerated into a bellicose and conflictive species. In a constant struggle for space and food.
Arriving in Goa and meeting such a kind world, these enmities were left behind and again, the survivors of the trip, now reduced to nineteen lineages, had found peace.
Now this peace, was threatened by the arrival of humans, who said the original settlers of Goa. The fact that the matriarchs decided to let them do their will and walk from one place to another, digging in old buildings, had not been to the liking of some lineages and again the old enmities arose among them.
He and his others he, decided to make their way to the hive, soon it would be day and the period of motherhood was approaching, so the activity would reach its maximum, they had to return to guard the corridors of the nursery area, where frequently , the infants got into trouble while they were waiting for their mothers. As they bid farewell to the tumulus and its beautiful trees, they wished that their species had learned from those turbulent periods in the ark, when they were about to exterminate each other.
Sólo me queda agradecer a @xpilar por permitirme usar su arte digital en mi publicación y por motivarla. Muchas Gracias @xpilar
Gracias a todos por visitar mi publicación, espero sus comentario y agradezco su apoyo, hasta la próxima
I can only thank @xpilar for allowing me to use his digital art in my publication and for motivating my creation. Thank you very much @xpilar
Thank you all for visiting my publication, I hope your comments and I appreciate your support, until next time
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