A servant of Chaos (not Kefka Palazzo) antagonizes Terra Branford before a duel. In free verse.

Disclaimer: I do not own Final Fantasy Dissidia, Cosmos or any of her ten servants, Chaos or any of his ten servants (though I wish I owned Kuja the Silver Wizard), or any locations within. Only thing that's mine is this poem.

To the Red Mage

You stand before me, Red Mage,

poised for battle as though you would spring at me,

a death-glare in your sapphire eyes

as though you would kill me with the strength of your anger.

I'm curious, my dear,

why do you hate me so?

Is it because, in the course of the present fighting,

I fight for the God of Discord, just as you serve Harmony?

For that, do you consider me

to be in league with your own adversary,

that clown who is known in your world as Kefka Palazzo,

and thus curse my existence with equal venom?

Or perhaps you've found a fondness

for that weak-willed boy who would try to challenge me yet again.

Know this now, you cannot help him.

He will never find his light, not through you,

Not through any who would serve your sweet goddess.

Or maybe, just maybe, it's not Cosmos whom you serve.

It's possible that you're here for vengeance, perhaps—

not your own, but that of the White Mage,

that cursed little girl who sought to oppose my plan.

But as you cannot help the boy,

nor will you do that girl any justice by fighting me today.

It's true you defeated the clown Kefka in your world,

but his power is as nothing to mine. I could defeat you easily.

Let no one say that I didn't warn you.