Not too far away from Knuckles, someone else was thinking the same thing.
The place hadn't seemed too bad at first. A giant graveyard? Splendid! He wouldn't have to walk very far if he wanted to bury any bodies. Not that he would. Cremation was always so much more satisfying. Nothing beat the sweet smell of burning flesh in the morning, especially when it was mixed with a soundtrack of screams from the not-quite-dead.
But then there were all these creatures. Heartless, weren't they called? It didn't matter. They kept appearing in front of him, and attacking him, and getting in his way. He only had so much magic to spare!
"Die you miserable, useless,insects!" Kefka shrieked, flinging spell after spell at the Heartless that surrounded him. "Go bother someone else for a change! I'm sure there are plenty of weaklings you can tear apart somewhere else around here!" In fact, he wouldn't mind seeing that. It would give him something to laugh at for a change. The mage smoothed his colorful--though more muted and torn--robes as the Heartless disappeared into wisps of darkness, uttering a small "Hmph!" as he continued through the woods and entered the graveyard area.
Knuckles caught Kefka's eye almost immediately, and he broke into a grin much wider than was possible for any man, the blood red stitches at the corners of his mouth straining to keep the skin from splitting. "Well, well, well... Look who we have here," Kefka sang, stepping closer. He absently shooed away a ghost with a wave of the hand.
A finger went to Kefka's temple as he cocked his head to the side, his grin fading into a small, overly troubled frown. "My, I seem to have forgotten your name. What was it again? I haven't a clue." And suddenly, the smile was back, the singsong quality of Kefka's voice fading into a deeper tone as he regarded Knuckles with a half-lidded gaze. "Must not have been very important."
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The place hadn't seemed too bad at first. A giant graveyard? Splendid! He wouldn't have to walk very far if he wanted to bury any bodies. Not that he would. Cremation was always so much more satisfying. Nothing beat the sweet smell of burning flesh in the morning, especially when it was mixed with a soundtrack of screams from the not-quite-dead.
But then there were all these creatures. Heartless, weren't they called? It didn't matter. They kept appearing in front of him, and attacking him, and getting in his way. He only had so much magic to spare!
"Die you miserable, useless, insects!" Kefka shrieked, flinging spell after spell at the Heartless that surrounded him. "Go bother someone else for a change! I'm sure there are plenty of weaklings you can tear apart somewhere else around here!" In fact, he wouldn't mind seeing that. It would give him something to laugh at for a change. The mage smoothed his colorful--though more muted and torn--robes as the Heartless disappeared into wisps of darkness, uttering a small "Hmph!" as he continued through the woods and entered the graveyard area.
Knuckles caught Kefka's eye almost immediately, and he broke into a grin much wider than was possible for any man, the blood red stitches at the corners of his mouth straining to keep the skin from splitting. "Well, well, well... Look who we have here," Kefka sang, stepping closer. He absently shooed away a ghost with a wave of the hand.
A finger went to Kefka's temple as he cocked his head to the side, his grin fading into a small, overly troubled frown. "My, I seem to have forgotten your name. What was it again? I haven't a clue." And suddenly, the smile was back, the singsong quality of Kefka's voice fading into a deeper tone as he regarded Knuckles with a half-lidded gaze. "Must not have been very important."