Long ago, in the burrows of old, there was a tunnel that reached down further than another other. No one knows where it came from, but it’s said that the first of our kind wandered the land, until the day came that they passed between the tall green trees, and came up to the base of one of the pillars of heaven. Between two of the large roots of the pillar, was a mound of dirt, and a hole that lead deep into the ground.
They wandered inside, searching the tunnels, and found them empty. Deeper and deeper they walked, as the light went out and the tunnel grew smaller, until, finally, the tunnel opened wide, and they stood in a large room, all alone.
The first one looked and saw something in the middle of the room. It smelled sweet, and tasted good enough that the first one ate and ate, until they could no longer leave the tunnel. They threw their head back in despair, terrified of being lost to the darkness below, until they felt something deep in their abdomen. The pressure grew, until the first egg of our kind was laid.
The eggs grew and developed, until they hatched, revealing the first workers of our kind. They filled the tunnels and rooms, and were the first to go back out into the world, and find the food that fills our halls, keeping us fed when the cold comes. The first one became the first queen, and our people spread over the land, eventually taking to digging our own tunnels, in the way that our ancestral home taught us. The original one spread the secret of how to make the sweet food of the first tunnel, allowing a select few of our kind to become queens themselves, allowing our people to cover the world, and grow in strength and number with every passing day.