Just before it begins…

"Text": Its regular speaking text.

'Text': It's what the chars are thinking.

"Text": Words said earlier.

: This means when the POV (Point Of View) changes from one char to another, wich many times implies a change of surroundings and stuff.

Exceptions are rare but understandable.

I'm doing this because I'm sick of my own usual one shot's. I decided to make my own Final Fantasy so I picked up the lot, meaning I-XII and inspired my whole story in it. The chars are from various games but the main are from X. I will thus mention places that some people would never heard from. In that case, you're free to e-mail me and I will supply you with such pic. If you bother at all, that is.

All said and done…

I DO NOT OWN ANYTHING AND NEVER WILL ABOUT FINAL FANTASY SERIES. I WRITE THIS FOR FUN AND AS A STRESS TREATMENT AND RELIEF. OTHERWISE FOR MY MENTAL STABILITY, I DO NOT OWN ANYTHING ABOUT FINAL FANTASY. ONLY SQUARE-ENIX DOES AND THEY ROCK HARD AS LONG THEY MAKE FINAL FANTASY GAMES. THIS WILL BE APPLIED TO OTHER CHAPTERS, SO THIS DISCLAIMER IS UNIVERASAL TO THIS WHOLE FAN FIC

Boring stuff apart… let's begin.

By the way, I will not appeal for review. This will be here, and if people enjoy it, then review it. I don't care minimally about flaming and if this stuff is really that bad, burn it to the ground. Hope you like it.

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'This world is finished…'

Tidus thought while gazing endlessly the old marble floor, inscribed with fine patterns of delicate white, very likely created by the craftsman of old, ages ago.

"We should be moving soon. Be ready." Auron informed the party, but they already knew that. In fact, even in much troubled days, when war and tragedy roared through the skies with vengeance and death cries, hope was always there to aid people, to make them go forth with their lives and their battles. But now… were was hope? Now that their need was most dire? In truth, maybe a shadow or fiend like they kill everyday. Hope is dead and with it are their once normal lives. And they know it with every fibre of their being. That's why Balthier's spends his days looking to the high heavens wich he can no longer cut with his amber wings, or Squall who barely stands holding his Revolver; all because of memories. Yet memories do hurt and sometimes even kill. Another trait that both Tidus and Ashe share in common.

"Stay here, near the fire. I'll go refresh my mind just one bit, ok Yuna?"

She only looked at him, a saddened glow in her emerald and sapphire eyes, ever piercing into her lover's soul who burned with anxiety. He got up and only putting his hand on his love he could feel enough strong to do the sacrifice he needed to. To unwrap once again his memories, hidden deep within his mind that has now seen the good, the bad, happiness and sorrow… love and tragedy. And so, he walked towards the great, arched window of the high tower. Cloud too was reminiscing, the Buster Sword hold tightly in his hand. They shared a distant look and Tidus proceeded. It was with little or no fear he put himself right in the edge of marble and glanced into the far away horizon. His bright clothes were waving at the will of the mighty wind, that both cold and strong, pushed him back and back. But no, he was now too strong for be beaten by a wind. All had vanished but he remained. He remained for a purpose, for the world needed to hear a story…

'Listen to my story… our lives. This will be our last chance…'

This world as seen much. For all times and ages, wars have been waged and misery has spread also. But, like a storm, they too were gone before people could lose what is most precious to man: hope. But, to every rule there is an exception: The Ancients, the first of the Kind; those primordial beings, father to all conscious races from the Guado to the Ronso, were the first to discover the awful truth. They build more than a simple empire; they build a world upon a world, expanding to the edges of reality and beyond, unifying the realms of existence. However, how such power disappeared only to leave gigantic constructions, which even ruined, as testimony of the power of old is beyond most people of today.

But life is not in past but in future. And so, it is with positive trust that we face our dear and little planet: Spira, a world of unchangeable change, a witness to the immutable truth: everything is mutable. The continents are not only but 4 mass lands: Spiral at the center, connecting westward to Ivalice, land of the Mighty Warring Empires; eastbound is Griever's Alliance, composed of nations who banned since antiquity sorcerers and summoner's; to the North is nothing more than the prosperous city state of Zanarkand, the last frontier to the unexplored depths of the Pole and its elder craters. The smallest continent, although unfairly powerless is Alexandria, home to the Garnet's Accordance wich permits the Isles surrounding the South Sea to have a minimally… decent living.

Indeed, it's a world of great contrasts and problems; but also virtues. A place were fiends still exist and they will exist, as long the Pyreflies still fly around and Mist flows at the will of the Lifestream…

But these matters hardly concern the denizens of Spiral, on other hand. Why concern with fiends when the final of the World Cup of Blitzball is about to take place? A good way to end this year of 999 of The Great Calm…

…or maybe not.