The mind maggots have hatched. Their little metallic tongues whispered sweet, sweet lovelies into their fleshy homes. Only whispers though. Only whispers. . . Anything louder would most surely impede the listeners from their cattle-like tasks.
Only one remained unnoticed by the charismatic boat flies that swarmed, unseen by the eye's of mortals. An arcane apprentice, mere months away from graduating to a fully fledged magician. Without any idea as to why he was spared from the telepathic tongues, or how they even came to be, he walks. Forced to wander the world, alone. Armed with nothing but a few spells, a gnawing feeling of loneliness, and a mediocre sized bushel of apples.
