A thousand years of countless wars passed, and the victors turned out to be... spiders. As if mocking fate, their strategy proved successful. All other races and civilizations successfully obliterated each other, simply forgetting that there was still another side of the conflict hiding in the cracks. However, it should be noted that by the time of their "victory," only three colonies of spiders remained. One was located in the far north, on an island beyond the Arctic Circle. This is where I was born. Two others eked out their existence on the southern continent, also not far from the pole.
Almost a thousand years have passed since then. Unfortunately, the victory proved to be Pyrrhic, and our colony could not find a way to move to more favorable areas. Spiders were terrible sailors, and there was no proper forest here to build ships. About three hundred years ago, contact with the other two colonies was lost, so their fate remained unknown.
Over the thousand years, spider magic had significantly degraded. And no, it wasn't due to a loss of knowledge. The ancient heritage was intact. The problem lay in the decline of intelligence levels. Six thousand years of directed selection had its effect. The current spiders could not master the magic of their ancestors and used only its pitiful remnants, simplified to the utmost.
Fortunately, when I, while still in the egg, infused my body with chakra, all the dormant genes awakened, and my brain developed to a level quite comparable to the great mages of the Ancients. So now I was absorbing all the knowledge accumulated by the civilization while simultaneously writing a guide for idiots on growing hemp.
Two weeks after my birth, a "rescue group" set out, of which I was a part. During this time, my size increased from a couple of centimeters to a full meter in girth. That's not counting the legs. However, the growth of the physical body was not linked to the growth of magical abilities. Spiders only became more or less decent mages about ten years after birth. But my minimal abilities were enough to use a thermal shield spell, which protected against the cold. I also made everyone in the expedition learn this spell. Although it was currently the local "summer," that meant the surface temperature was not minus seventy but "only" minus forty.
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I was included in the expedition only because I was the sole specialist capable of understanding how and where to gather plant seeds. Fortunately, the unexpected ice age had occurred during the northern hemisphere's winter, so the seeds should have been in a state capable of surviving the low temperatures. True, they had to endure seventy years in permafrost, but I had every chance of finding still viable seeds.
Rag-Hak didn't want to go with me, so I had to demonstrate remarkable cunning to make the commander of our detachment, who was several steps higher than me on the social ladder, follow my orders. Even so, I found and dug up half of the seeds myself.
Upon returning to the native caves, I took up gardening. Within a week, the first seeds sprouted, and my laboratory became a pilgrimage site for all the important spiders in the colony. Only the queen disdained to come to me. Instead, several pots with plants were brought to her chambers, which she deigned to admire before eating.
The attitude of the local authorities toward me didn't fundamentally change. They all considered me an object of their intrigues and made no secret that I would live only as long as I was useful. After all, my knowledge and skills were a challenge to their dull existence. However, I was not deceived, so the necessary instructions were written slowly, meticulously, and only after studying a vast amount of ancient books on magic.
A year after my birth, food production was finally put on stream. All the "old cadres" were awakened from hibernation, and the nurseries were filled with eggs of future workers, warriors, and even mages.
One fine day, I was reading a book on soul magic when this activity was interrupted by the appearance of my superior, Seg-Nim-Het. Old Rag-Hak had angered one of the senior spiders just a week ago, and his mutilated body had been sent to feed the scarabs. And now, judging by the emotions radiated by the female-spider, my turn has come.
"Shag, our queen has decided to grant you an audience. You have done much for our people, so she deigned to see you with her own eyes."
"Good for her" - I expressed my delight at this fact, setting the crystal with the book aside.
"Let's go. The queen doesn't like to wait."
"Of course. I just need to return this book to the repository" - I pointed to the crystal laid in a special box. - "It's on the way."