Illusion
Written for The Weird Prompt: Revelations
Prompt: sickfic
A/N: One of Kefka's often overlooked abilities is the power to create illusions. I always wondered what would happen if he created an illusion for Terra. So I wrote this to explore the idea of Kefka creating a fantasy world for him and his favorite doll.
He can set the world on fire with his touch. His fingers, laced with scars from burn injuries, close around the doorknob, and he feels it growing warm in his hand. Which is amusing because people have actually been burned from touching things he's handled. He likes to laugh when someone reaches for a doorknob and burns the hide off their fingers. But not today. Not when the flames have consumed him and all he feels is fire burning in his blood.
He leaned against the door, his strength failing as he collapsed onto the hardwood floor. He closed his eyes, feeling the cool wood make contact with his hot skin as he slipped into a dazed stupor. It wasn't long until Terra found him lying on the floor, his eyes opening as she pressed the palm of her hand against his forehead.
A simpering smile spread across his painted face, and he giggled, one hand pawing at her dangling curls like a kitten batting a piece of string. She'd seen him like this before, delirious from fever and sick from those horrible experiments. He was shivering and sweating, with beads of perspiration coating his forehead, standing out like a galaxy of fine dots against his pale skin. His makeup was smudged, distorting his clownish features with streaks of red, white, purple and yellow that dripped down his face and stained the ruff around his neck.
"Come on, Kefka," she murmured. "We need to get you into bed."
She slid her hands beneath his back, his head lolling to the side as she eased him into a sitting position. His feathers tickled her nose, obscuring her vision as they danced in front of her face. She was lucky he didn't weigh much, which made it easier to lift him onto his feet and walk him to the bed.
They made it halfway across the room when Kefka seized her by the wrist, a mad glint in his eyes as he laughed and spun her around. He didn't see her as Terra Branford. In his mind she was the Queen of the ancient castle, her dress flowing like waves of liquid silk as they danced across the ballroom floor.
He dipped her low enough that her hair brushed against the floor, and she gasped, her eyes widening as she looked up and saw a chandelier hanging from the ceiling. Curtains in shades of blue and gold were rippling in the wind, the scent of jasmine drifting in through an open window, enveloping her with its delicate fragrance as the illusion took hold of her senses, whisking her away to a world that existed only in his mind.
She began to lose herself in his creation. Her eyes closed as she let the rhythm of his movements guide her in a dance as old as time. There was music playing somewhere in the distance, an exotic melody that filled the air and lifted her towards the stars. It felt like she was flying, climbing higher and higher with each step they took, until suddenly the illusion faded, plunging her down into the depths of reality.
She opened her eyes and saw Kefka lying on the bed. He'd fallen across the mattress, his cloak trailing over the side of the bed, with feathers scattered across the surface of the multicolored duvet.
Terra moved towards him, taking a seat beside him on the bed. "Kefka, are you alright?" She leaned over him, one hand on his shoulder as she gently shook him. "Can you hear me?"
His lashes lifted to reveal cloudy, pale blue eyes, and he moaned. It had taken the last of his strength to create the illusion for her, but it was worth it, because they had been able to escape the confines of reality, existing in a world of his own design, a paradise made just for them.
He felt the mattress shift as Terra stood up, her footsteps retreating down the hall as she went to retrieve a bowl of water and a washcloth from the bathroom. Her name escaped his lips, and he smiled, remembering the way she looked in his illusion. There were rings on her fingers and ribbons in her hair, her dress shining like opals in the moonlight. There was also a crown made from rose gold and diamonds encircling her brow like a wreath. It was the image of her wearing this crown that lingered in his mind long after he fell asleep. And when he dreamed he saw her dancing beneath the moon, still wearing the crown made from shimmering bands of fire and starlight.