C'mere.

Yeah, you. I'm not suspicious, promise. Seriously!

You know who I am- I'm the same bard from the little place down the way that serves spirits and such- no, I'm not trying to bring you in for tips. Well, I'd appreciate the money, but that's seriously not the point. I'm not looking for trouble. I'm a little drunk, and I feel like talking. That's all.

I've got a story to tell you. I just- I need to tell somebody.

It's not the story of my life- calm down. It's not about me.

Alright, it is, to an extent, 'cause it's mystory, but it's- it's about this boy I found. Or, this boy who found me- out of the blue one day, with this giant spellbook in his hands and this even bigger oversized robe covering over his watery eyes like some kind of freaky mourning veil or something. The older of a pair of brothers from the Shadow Mountains north of here. You heard of anyone like that before? No?

You don't like guessing games? How about I try his real name- Shigeo, first Mageprince of the House of Salt.

Yeah, that one. That boy from the Shadow Mountains. Makes you a little more interested, doesn't it? I know shit about his Majesty himself, the boy whose ass is currently sitting on the giant throne across the moat and past the gates right over there- so you can take your sass and shove it in your mouth so your listening ears can do their damn job.

So how's that for a bard's tale?

I was his advisor, you know. The prince's. The king's. Whatever he is, now- it's changed. He was coronated recently- not that I'd been keeping up with it, or anything.

I taught him, actually. Not sure how much he learned, but, well.

He called me master, once, for whatever it's worth.

But you know what royalty does when they don't need you anymore- they cast you out like a bucket of fish left to sit an hour or five too long in the baking sun, and then watch you float around and spread your stink around to the rest of the folks swimming beneath you and desperately hoping not to get caught up in the next haul. They don't care what you did for 'em, or gave up in order to lift them up higher. They got what they wanted, and so now you're just chum to attract more suckers.

Anyway, but this isn't about me.

Mob.

I called him Mob, before he ascended up to the purple and above all the rest of us plebeians. He used to come around here to flip through his giant magician tomes, right? You saw him too- you're a local- the kid with the glazed-over expression and covered in weird painted runes all over his clothes? You remember him? He said they were magic seals, when I asked- that they could keep his power sealed inside of him. I thought he was shittin' me at first, but I've thought a lot of things in my life.

He was a Mage, like, a Wizard. Actually, that's probably not right. Mob was- is- a sorcerer, honestly. Yeah, the scary kind- the kind of magic user that can make something out of almost nothing. Magic, but in the truest, most mysterious, most unexplainable sense.

I didn't believe in magic before he came around. Not at all. Not even a little bit. I thought the surrounding Mage wars were all just a bunch of bullshit. I'm young, you know. Too young to know otherwise. And I'd never actually seen a real Mage with my own eyes since they conveniently had died out before they could see the new shape of the country they left behind, but now...

Now, I...

...I doubt, just a little bit. I doubt everything in this whole damn world, all because a boy in a bar with clothes that didn't fit him asked me if I could teach him to lock away his powers and read him some instructions from an old book he'd found in a shack somewhere. God knows where! I was stupid enough to say yes, because I wanted the attention and I wanted the power. I wanted to know what it's like to be extraordinary rather than some no-talent spectator on the sides.

Obviously, that didn't work out. I just couldn't hack it, not even with a goal or a bed or food. I'm not meant to be special, even with every advantage I get. I'm a bard, for cryin' out loud! I never thought I'd be just this, nothing but this! I thought by now, I'd definitely-!

No. Sorry. I'm just not... not myself. But this isn't about me. It's about Mob.

'Cause always, always. It's really, truly always been about Mob.

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

Author's notes: This is actually inspired by one of my original stories- I just transplanted the Mob Psycho 100 characters into it to give it a test run to see how it would work.

Also, it's really refreshing to use First Person point of view after usually being so didactic about a character's internal worlds. Kinda needed a break.

Thanks for reading!