In the beginning, there was a void, stretching wide and far. Within this void, a consciousness resided. It was a slumbering mind, a dormant soul; it was hidden deep inside the Darkness. There trapped It rested patiently awaiting its destined hour. Silent and still, it was bidding its time. The soul was waiting to be born yet again. It was waiting to start a new cycle.

Like muted whispers in the night, uncounted centuries had passed. Yet this dormant essence, while bathed in eternal darkness, yearned for the right moment. When the time was right its essence would sour free and, like a phoenix, it would be Reborn. Aeons might have passed, but then, at last, the destined moment had arrived. A voice called to it. A somewhat lonely voice pierced that void, that endless darkness. The soul stirred, it was gently roused from its sleep.

From the depths of the void, a rebirth unfurled. And as the word trembled, in awe and delight, in fear and horror, this awakened soul embraced its newfound chance at life. It was no longer confined, no longer concealed so its essence shimmered and its purpose was revealed. It was to thank that lonely voice which broke it out of Darkness. The reborn soul decided on its own that it would express its thanks in eternal service.

The web was cast and the two souls were entangled by an invisible thread. The bond was stronger than any magic, stronger than those nebulous powers which governed this world, it was unbreakable, it was greater than love.

…

The soul was ancient, countless times it had been reborn again and again. Between the resurrections, at times when it couldn’t be reformed anew, it went back to the void. It would lose its experience, its memory and sometimes even its sense of self, but a sliver of something would remain. It managed to keep just enough so that when it was reborn, it wouldn’t stumble in the world like a newborn baby – it had retained some things. But even then, it could not remember everything.

Its body naturally had taken a most familiar form, to an ignorant observer it would resemble that of a spider, and the soul embraced that moniker with pride; but it was so much more than that, it wasn’t just a spider. The body felt comfortable and natural, and it took no effort to control it. The spider observed the one who roused it from the slumber; a peculiar being with a peculiar soul.

‘Let me help you, Friend. Let me be of service.’ The spider thought but couldn't voice those words.

The soul was strong, but the body it had managed to form was still weak. It will take time to shape it for its needs. Regardless, the spider felt a duty, to help this strange being who set it free. No, there was more. It was strange, unexplainable even, but the feeling it felt was one which was very close to love. It was that but even bigger. They were kindred souls, yes, they were kin!

The spider didn’t even question those feelings; it didn’t need to find a reason for their existence. To feel was already enough… Soon, It had tasted its first meal in millennia, and it was simply divine. Right there the newly reborn soul had decided that it was its favourite meal; a hasty decision, but it just felt right.

The kindred creature was showing the spider things some strange some not and at first it just watched. When then it had seen enough it desired that it was time to make itself more useful. It might have taken the most basic tasks of all, tending to a plant, but it did so with joy and pride. Not only the plant was pleasant to look at, but it also provided the spider with its first and most favourite food – TomGrape. Just like that, the spider decided that it was the best plant of all. TomGrape, the King of Plants!

Yes, the spider was falling in love with a lot of the things it had seen just once. But first love was like that – sudden and unpredictable. And then imagine when the spider realised that its kindred friend also loved TomGrape. Amazing! – What a coincidence. And there was also this little detail: the plant was clearly born from his mana; he made that plant. But also, the spider could feel the same mana swirling inside its core. Were they all: the spider, the plant, and the kindred Friend somehow siblings? It was strange but possible…

But, anyway, the spider felt the end drawing near, the body was reaching its time of expiration.

‘Worry not Friend. I’ll be reborn.’ The spider curled up and died, but not before laying its eggs.

…

And it was reborn, and in greater number. Without needing to go to the void it had retained its memories and experiences.

‘Hello’, ‘Hello’, ‘Hello’ … It waved a greeting to itself.

All of the spiders here were ‘IT’, the original spider but now reborn. Soon they will go and tend to the beloved TomGrape and in even greater numbers. They will serve their kindred!

Stolen content warning: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences.

…

Spiders died, and spiders came to be. Not all were the same, but all carried the experience of their direct parent, and hence by extension the memories of the first spider. All were bound by selfless oath to thank that lonely voice, the one who brought them out of the dark void. And you know, all spiders loved to work and be of use. If you asked them and if they could speak then all of them would say, “Hey, work is amazing! I wish I didn’t need to sleep!”

Unfortunately, there was only so much work to go around. A tragedy really. But maybe not so much. A lone spider had decided to help its friend more directly, a more personal approach. But how remained a conundrum. It took time, an embarrassingly long amount of time, but the spider did realise something important. It was simply not smart enough to understand his friend. A minor issue really, which will be solved in an evolution or two. But in the meantime, the spider kept watching, always observing his dear Friend.

One mind working on a problem was good, but a few more were even better. And it was more fun to be jobless together with other siblings. So once again the now sextet of spiders drew upon their memory and did what their first ancestor did. They hung on the ceiling and observed their Friend, maybe he had a good job for them. And maybe they could do something more than plain farming.

…

The spiders made their attempts to be ‘helpful’, and as the saying goes ‘it’s the thought that matters’, right?

Here are some well-meant examples:

A spider helpfully tasted the watery soup the Friend was making, it was watery but rather delicious. The way the Friend had made the soup was rather odd, he bathed in it for some reason. But hey, it did taste delightful! The spider called its friends to have a sip. They too agreed.

A spider helpfully sorted the Friend's belongings. It was obvious that those things didn’t belong on the ground. On the web, they must go, yes! And on the web, all of it went, tangled in BanditAgave rope for good measure. We can’t let them fall by accident, can we?

Sometimes, the Friend would put a strange cloth on his appendages, he called those items, Leafy Socks, and it was a rather peculiar item. He always did so when finished with his sleep cycle. So why not help and do it for him, just before he awoke? And why stop with two appendages if he had all four and way too many socks?

For some reason, the Friend was often bewildered at their spidery attempts to help.

“Ha-ha, you jesters.” He would laugh in mirth.

To make him laugh was a good thing, but this wasn’t what the spiders were trying to do. So sometimes they observed further, trying to understand what went wrong, and sometimes they just kept trying new things. Eventually, they will find their purpose.

…

What an eventful day! Their Friend was always full of good ideas.

“… an expedition…” He said somewhat excited.

The spiders too felt excitement, even if they didn’t know what the word ‘expedition’ even meant.

They were kitted out the gear most fancy clothing the Friend had made for them. And then the ever-helpful Jesters marched forward.

And soon it became clear that their Friend was more than just a friend, he was their leader too. The Boss of the Jesters, the Leader of the Spiders, or as he liked to call himself the King of Spiders. The Spider King!

And then, later in the expedition, a formidable adversary was found. As soon as they saw it, the spiders felt it. They felt a threat. The plant was just a flower, it was vivid blue and radiated that deceptive aura of innocence. But the spiders saw past its facade, they knew that they had to stay away. They went to warn the king but…

But he didn’t seem to be affected. Ah! As expected of the King. It was only natural, yes. Fearlessly he bit at the enemy eating it whole. No mercy had been shown! Then, the fearless King escorted the six spiders away from a blue sea of monsters. Yes, everyone was safe and sound.

However, the unimaginable had happened. The King went back into the blue field of flowers and then… and then he began slaying. One, two, three… too many to count, he exterminated them all. Spiders watched struck with awe. The King did what the spiders couldn’t, he’d fought the blue menace for them. He showed that it can be defeated, he showed that there is no need for Fear. He shoved the defeated enemy into the bags and brought it home as a trophy. Likely to show other spiders that the blue flowers were nothing to be feared.

Some time had passed, and the King was now growing a small patch of DustyBlue flowers. Obviously, the spiders remained wary of their natural enemy, after all unlike the King, they were unable to approach it. The jesters retold their comrades the tale of the glorious King emphasising on his courage and the intention that he grew it here so that the spiders could stop fearing it. As in that saying ‘Keep your friends close and enemies closer.

Even more time had passed. The King had made an unlikely friend, it too was fearless and unafraid of blue menace, and a friend of a friend is also a friend, or so the spiders thought. What a peculiar creature it was. It consumed the DustyBlue and converted it into something beautiful. Something no spider could resist. It was like ambrosia, sweet and filling. Indeed, the King was wise to conquer the blue menace and turn it into his slave.

The spiders dyed their webs in its blood, they even soaked their clothes in it, and they ate its processed corpse with gusto. A lot of things here were blue, and it was a reminder to the future enemies – don’t mess with us!

But even then, the King had also shown a lot of Kindness. Even if enslaved, the DustyBlue was treated well, its children grew now in the spider farm, and they grew to be magnificent. In a sense, this wild and once scary plant was domesticated. Once an enemy, now a friend!

…

A spider stood tall on its six legs. It was looking at something precious with all four of its gem-like yellow eyes. “The new Slug Jelly.” The mandibles clicked excitedly. A collective memory flashed across its mind, it was the spider story of idleness, loss, victory and then purpose. Emotions and experiences its parents had gathered. But mostly nostalgia.

It slurped an amount no bigger than a bottle cap. “Sweet. Delectable. Delicious.” Its mouth was overflowing with joy.

[Buff: Magnificent]

“That's new!” It chirped intrigued.