It wasn't much of a room. More like a cell. Nothing but grey surrounded him. Grey walls, grey bed, grey everything. Hesitantly, he sat down on the bed, staring down at the floor. It was grey, too, made of some sort of stone. It was cold beneath his feet. More than anything, he wished for a rug. Or perhaps shoes.
After a moment, he got up, and attempted to open the door. It was bolted shut from the other side. So this really was a cell. Stuck in here until he complied with the Empire's demands. Although he didn't even know what they were asking of him. With a heavy sigh, he went and sat back down on the bed. This was so much different than his home. He missed his mother.
He looked up sharply as he heard the door being opened. There stood two men, and the Emperor himself. "Are you ready to show us your magic, boy?"
He stared for a moment, before spitting in response. One of the men took out a knife, and advanced into the room slightly before Gestahl stopped him.
"I told you, I don't know magic. I just know stupid tricks. They labeled it as magic because they didn't know what else to call it."
"Well, then, show me these tricks."
With an aggravated sigh, he stood up, "I can't show them to you. I'd need fireworks for that. It's just concealing things in my hands. Like making coins disappear, and making sparks fly out of my hands. Stuff to keep the little kids occupied. It's not magic." He waved his hands around as if to prove he couldn't cast magic, "See? Nothing."
Gestahl frowned slightly, then walked over to Kefka, as if sizing him up, "Fine. Come out of the room, boy."
"I'd much rather stay. I don't want anything to do with your stinking Empire." At that, one of the soldiers grabbed Kefka's arm and dragged him over to Gestahl. The boy wrenched around, attempting to get free from the man's iron grip, but the attempt was futile.
"Trust me, boy, we're not here to hurt you. You've got a fighter's spirit. I like that in a person. How old are you, boy?"
The boy glared in response, "That's none of your business." He squeaked as the grip on his arm tightened, and immediately tried to pull away. "Th-Thirteen! I'm thirteen." The grip relaxed slightly, but not enough for him to pull away.
"Perfect. Come with me, boy. We have plans for you."