Final Fantasy - All Series Fan Fiction ❯ Multifaceted ❯ Theme #9: Fire; Blaze - Twisted ( Chapter 1 )

[ T - Teen: Not suitable for readers under 13 ]

Title: Twisted.
Author: Shaded Mazoku.
Fandom: Final Fantasy VI.
Subject: Kefka Palazzo.
Theme/Challenge: #9: Fire; Blaze.
Rating: PG.
Disclaimer: Not mine at all. They’re Squeenix’. I just borrow them.

*

The first time he ever used magic, he very nearly put himself on fire, staring so intently at flames flickering in his hands that he forgot that he wore long, floofy sleeves that day. He hadn’t even noticed, so deeply fascinated. In the end, it had taken Leo shaking his shoulders to stop him from putting something, or himself, on fire.

He’d had a deep fascination with all sorts of fire since. There was a fancy lamp on his desk, made from metal and glass, both twisted into an intricate shape, and it was fuelled by oil, as most lamps were. It hadn’t always been as twisted, not at all, but he had found it lying around in the ruins of what had been a house before he’d made it burn, flames blazing from his hands. The unusual shape had caught his eye, and he’d made one of the soldiers bring it back to Vector for him. Metal got far too hot to touch when left in fire, after all. It wouldn’t do if he burned his hands when he needed them to write reports. Far better to let others burn. And he’d really wanted that lamp. It fascinated him how fire could twist something into only somewhat resembling the original.

That lamp, having since been made functional again by the best craftsman in Vector, and the glass restored to a wonderful green hue, was always burning, one side left open to bare the flame to the eyes of anyone seeing it. Of course, the only one seeing it was him, sitting alone in his quarters, staring into the flame in the lamp and the one burning in his hands. He couldn’t stop playing with fire, even if he had wanted to. He didn’t. Why should he?

So he spent his evenings staring into flames, the flickering of the fire reflected on too pale skin, and in too pale eyes. He had no interest in the foolish gossiping of the court, and though Leo could be good company, he always tried making him “better”, as if he was sick, or wrong somehow, and he disliked that. Far better to stay there, staring into the fire and daydreaming about the screams of those hurt by the flames. Pretty colours and prettier sounds, making him feel alive in a way nothing else ever had.