Yup, this is the end.

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Epilogue: At Least We're Dreaming

The wind howled across Razorback Mountain, the highest peak at the 'Independent Nation of Half-Breeds (Commonly known as 'The Islands)' Academy of magic, more commonly known as INHAM. Small birds flew past, twittering their songs, oblivious to the small gathering below. Damon Valentine, an exile among the united nations, was a student, along with his twin brother, Aaron Valentine, studying magic under grandmaster Rath, or just plain Jarred as he preferred to be called. It was hardly dull: You ran the constant risk of pissing off the teachers, and therefore ran the risk of death, considering how duels were an excepted method of justice, and if you managed to appease them, then there was still the magic itself that could rip you to pieces. At the moment, Jarred Rath had declared that illusionary magic class would be held at the mountain peak.

"... One of the most important skills you're going to have to master here at the academy, is the ability to polyform. It's a skill the other teachers frown upon, but after a while here at the academy you'll see that they usually frown on anything I think is important." Some of the students cracked a smile or laughed at this. "So I'll let each one of you theorize how it can be done. Right now. For the next hour. And then you will put it to practice." The tall, black skinned warrior lectured, standing on the edge of a steep fall.

There erupted a mass of murmurs from the students immediately, mostly of panicked theories. Damon smirked lightly as the stern man shouted instantly, and began reprimanding his students.

"Stop that, stop that! I will not have any of this cooperating! I'll have none of it! I want each one of you to make your own theories, and not steal someone else's! I say this because this is what I want, and anyone who doesn't obey will be forced to learn how to fly very quickly, if you catch my meaning. Here, I'll give you a quick demonstration, but after that I expect to see a lot of people doing their own work, thank you."

Jarred spread his arms wide, slowly leaning backwards. With a few startled yelps from the students, he fell over the edge, soundlessly. Collectively, the students surged to the edge, expecting to see the emanate death of one of the most reputedly evil people to have existed.

He was falling head first, and fast. An eerie blue glow surrounded him, and his hands moved quickly, drawing sigils in the air. He pulled off his shirt, and a pair of snowy white wings sprouted forth. His fast fall curved, and as he gained speed he climbed, until once again he was on the peak, beating the wings strongly to make a soft landing.


"I don't expect you to do the same thing, especially because I used the Half-Breed form of Magic. I want you to either use demonic, arcane, or Cetra magic for this feat. I expect none of you, except for the Valentine brothers, of course, to learn the Half-Breed form of magic, let alone master it, considering the fact that you're all humans, demons and Cetra. And to the Valentine brothers exclusively: I frown upon forced transformations outside of a duel. And if I see one of you using the same spell, consider yourself expelled from my class." A collective groan emerged.

It was required that at least one of Jarred Rath's classes were taken, considering that he was by far the greatest wizard-of-sorts to have existed, but many students feared his classes. It wasn't that he was particularly cruel or mean, but he was just so damned nice about things that it really got you down. It is a well known fact that when a teacher offers, willingly, their utmost attention, their goodwill, and, most frightening of all, their much-sought-for help, they are either having a really good time when off duty (Something most students of the academy would rather not think about), or was planning something very cruel. It was unnerving. Especially when the person in question had taken down the strongest human force during one of the fiercest wars in history. You kept expecting him to suddenly snap, and set about creating total destruction. At least with the other teachers you knew where you stood: Somewhere between being ignored and being screamed at.

"Right, I see that I've made a tactical error in the case of some of the students here, as some of them already have wings. All demons of the Lord caste, I want you to go back to the academy and ask lecturer Manwell to give you a really nasty speech about arrogance and the danger of insulting a teacher. I may not know demonic, but I can know a nasty thought when I hear one! C'mon, off with you!" A small group of Kalat ka, the winged demons (A term that held true for several demonic sub-species), stalked off, one of them grumbling nastily "Calamath, don't bother coming to any of my classes for the rest of the year! Yes, I heard that!" Jarred turned to the remaining students, and then back to the demon. "And that! I swear, Calamath, If Kahn hadn't insisted on you attending my school, I'd have thrown you out on the streets months ago!" Jarred turned around, smiling once again. "As to the rest of you, I really must say I'm disappointed in you for wasting time like that. You've only got a half-hour left, after all..."

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The thin, white robed priest stood silently next to a young acolyte who was trying to lead the sermon, but was stuttering every other sentence, and generally making an ass of himself, coughed politely. He wore a wide-brimmed hat, made of white fabric, and did his utmost to hide his skin. People that heard him speak came under the impression that wisdom was spouting from somewhere, but weren't too sure if it was coming from the man under all this clothing or someone next to him.

The Priest had been doing good deeds ever since he came to the sector, a few years before the 'Fire March', but it had only been in recent times that he had really taken off. The sector five church had prospered under his guidance, and the ruined rocket had been removed long ago, and the building repaired fully, and now people attended his first sermon, more out of curiosity than actual faith. It was rare to see someone work so hard, so long, without an obvious reason. Before that, the building had been used as an orphanage, run by the same priest, and many of the acolytes living there now had grown up there. There was a huge garden in front of the building, and behind it laid an orchard that few in the city could match.

"A, and then t, the lord-" Many people had left the church, finding it boring, and the acolytes stuttering painfully pitiful.

A gloved hand fell on the acolyte's shoulder, who stopped suddenly, looking over at his superior. The priest nodded acceptingly.

"Take a rest, Geran. I'll take over." He said smoothly. The acolyte gladly accepted, and scurried off on some task. The priest approached the stand where the acolyte had stood, and removed the broad hat from his head. Red eyes and black skin contrasted violently with his robe, and some people gasped. A Half-Breed! What was one of them doing so far away from the Islands, and unarmed? Some people stood up angrily, still bearing anger of their dark-skinned brethren. "Please, do not stand on my account." The priest said slowly, spreading his arms wide. "All are welcome in the house of God!" He pronounced happily, as if it had been some special arrangement he had worked out with his deity.

"Ha!" One of the people shouted from the back. "You're a Half-Breed, and a shadow-born to boot! You're half demonic! How can you expect us to believe you?!"

The priest smiled widely, and kneeled suddenly.

"I don't. In fact, I didn't expect anyone to come, except for those I invited, truth-be-told. But I am not here to make you listen to me. There's a door right there, if you want to leave. I trust you know how to use it?"

There was hesitation. A mass of confused looks aroused among the humans, but some of the paler Half-Breeds half-stood, ready to do just as he said.

And then the massive doors of the church opened, and a train of people strolled in, looking at their surroundings. The priest looked up, and beamed. He greeted them warmly, from where he was kneeling.


"Ah, miss Gainsborough! So nice to see you made it! And Cloud and Tifa Strife! More than I could have hoped for! I don't suppose Jarred Rath could have made it, could he? I would have liked to have spoken with him, if I could. Kahn! I'd have never imagined you'd come!"

Aeris Gainsborough, heroine of the Cetra, walked up to the priest, and hugged him. Kahn was standing near the entrance, as if hesitant to go any further. Some of the humans stared at him, and he promptly returned the favour. "Yeah well, I got bored of sitting on a throne all day." The demon stated from where he stood, looking around him. Cloud And Tifa Strife approached the priest alongside Aeris, but were somewhat more reserved.

"You think I would miss your first sermon, Gh- oh wait, I can't call you that anymore!" The Cetra laughed, pulling away from the Half-Breed. "I wouldn't have missed it for the world, Father Ghost!" Her smile faded slightly, as she continued on. "Unfortunately, Jarred couldn't make it. He's up to neck in would-be wizards, apparently, and 'some abso-F&%¤ing-lute brilliant idiot', as he put it, has elected him for the foreign minister of the Islands."

Ghost nodded, and stood up.

"I see. Well, I'll keep him in mind when I say my prayers tonight. I will pray that someone else gets elected, for I fear what would befall the world if the Islands had a foreign minister like Jarred. A lot less silent, for one thing."

Cloud coughed politely, and blushed slightly as the sound echoed around the room. "Ah, reverend, er, father, er, eh," He struggled for the right words.

"Just Ghost, please." The priest said brightly, taking Cloud by the shoulder. "Titles are for honour, and I'll have none of that, thankyouverymuch."

"Oh, well, Ghost, it seems like your sermon has a rather large audience, and I was wondering if you had any empty spots available?"


"Of course, child. I have made arrangements for you," Ghost said, and gestured to a tall balcony above them, and then to a staircase leading to it. "Front row seats to the show." He said with a grin.

Cloud grinned in turn, and turned to the stairs, While Tifa gave him a short hug, careful that she knew where the priest's hands were at all times. And after a short conversation Aeris joined them. Ghost looked at the demon standing near the door way, and nodded.

"Whatever you do, demon lord, do not sit down. God would be offended if you found comfort in his house. Whatever you do, DON'T SIT DOWN!!" The Half-Breed said loudly, using the echo to his advantage.

The demon grinned slightly, and sat down on a bench, next to a human who was looking at him with some sort of cross between horror and fascination.

Father Ghost spread his arms wide once again, and smiled brightly.

"Well then, let's get this show on the road! I will begin with the Genesis, but I'll finish it a couple of months, after I get done with telling of all the smiting. Smoting. Smitting. Whatever. So, In the beginning, there was..."

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The Cetra Capital, Knowlespole, was one of the many prosperous cities in the northern continent, but the greatest of cities among the Cetra. It spread out in the canyon, and filled every available space, even going as far as to carving into the canyon walls. Thousands lived there, of all races. It was the most racially free city on the planet, without the industrious air of Midgar, or the thick walls of Arkana, the Half-Breed Capital far to the south, or the tall spires of Telatil, the demonic capital. It was the city of peace. The city of Tolerance. The city of way-too-many-people-for-a-consensus-too-survive-two-seconds. The demons and Half-Breeds were of long generations, and held the cities defence without question. They felt it was their civic duty. Humans and Cetra did just about everything else, silently glad to be free of drafting.

Nobody ruled it. Nobody could rule it. It would be like trying to herd cats. But there were ten sections of the city, each with their own respective mayor, and they met up once every month to talk and take care of things (And, conveniently, to compare clothes.). The two in charge of the military of the city, a Half-Breed and Demon, met up with them, but mostly to make sure that no-one had insulted anybody else, and to find out if they should expect some sort of attack or not. It was a hard job, keeping Knowlespole under control. Luckily, it seemed as if the city managed itself pretty well, in fact.

And further North, lay the ancestral home of the Half-Breeds, Arka-Neorix, where all that remained of the ruined city was the famous Psirys Gardens, which spread out across the ground like a carpet, in bloom all year. Nearby it, a Cetra Lab was studying the plant, with some far-fetched idea of using it's magical properties for attaining immortality.

And further north, slightly to the east, lay Telatil, the demon Capitol. It lay in an ancient crater, but years of toil had turned the tall mountains into huge walls that no army could hope to scale (Any army without wings, at least. War was still frequent between Half-Breeds and Demons, but never taken seriously. It was more like a game, now, than anything else. Sure, hundreds would die, but they agreed to do it anyway, so what was the problem? Civilians were never harassed by either side, and once the other side admitted defeat the winning army would retreat, and 'rebels' would 'liberate' the conquered city.) or destroy. And inside, huge spires reached for the clouds like so many hands. Inside it, a chaotic mass of activity was usually what was happening. Demons flying between buildings, brawls in the streets, graduates of the academy of magic impiously casting spells at one another, occasionally turning an innocent bystander into a newt, and in the centre of it all, the demon palace, where more chaos than one mind could take in resided. This was Kahn's domain. The city survived any invading Half-Breed army simply by being too much of a problem to handle. Any sensible conquering army would pack their bags full of loot, and move away to somewhere else.

And on the other side of the world completely, lay the Half-Breed Capitol, Arkana, where nobody really ruled. They warlike people had heard of democracy, sure, but not about how it worked. Sure, everyone got an opinion, but that didn't mean that it was heeded. Votes were cast, sure, but for what, nobody was quite sure of. A president was elected every once in a while (Whenever somebody down in the streets decides it's about time for someone to be hung for previous wrongs.), but who exactly counted the votes was a mystery. But, things moved on by, mostly by the three fundamental rules of the society: 1) There was no money. Half-Breeds considered gold a mere shiny metal, but nothing more. Things were done because they needed doing. 2) Jarred Rath, the man with the highest standing amongst his people, was never elected for presidency, for reasons better left unknown (World Peace). Despite this, he had a very odd way of 'suggesting' things, and foreign politics were tense at best on these occasions. And 3) The academy of Magic was the place where any nation went to when in need for magical gizmos. Whereas money had no value to the Half-Breeds, materials did. Sorcerers, warriors, what-have-ye of the Half-Breed persuasion were all in demand all over the world, and several nations had established embassies in the hopes to curry favour, and policed their own neighbourhoods.

All around the world, peace reigned. It was a unique reign, as most people of all races seemed satisfied with it. After the terrible Midgar-Arkana war, over the dispute of cloning Half-Breeds, and the later war between all three ancient races when Midgar scientists proceeded to clone demons and Cetra in the hopes of creating some sort of form of magic powerful enough to stop the advancing Half-Breed hordes, but only serving to get the Demons, Cetra and Half-Breeds to unite and form an army to wipe Midgar off the face of the planet.  The ensuing war raged across the planet, as humans everywhere rushed to Midgar's banner. It ended with the famous 'Fire March', where Fort Condor, the strongest human garrison, was completely obliterated, Junon being invaded, and Midgar capitulating. The Half-Breeds, Cetra, Demons and humans agreed on peace, on the terms that the leading scientists of the cloning operations were executed, and all cloning facilities were destroyed. The armies were disbanded (In the Half-Breeds and Demons case, simply sheathed their weapons went home, waiting for the next war between them with anticipation.), and peace ensued. It survived simply because the Demons, Half-Breeds and Cetra seemed happy with the idea of having actually coming to an agreement, and it being that humans were really daft.

And the world kept spinning...

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Well that's it. Say g'bye to that world, everybody. It's gone. I'm gonna finish some of my other fics, and start off on some of my original fics, but I may make another FF7 fic, just for the heck of it. I gots d' MAD ideas. Working on one right now, matter o' fact. 'Cloak And Scythe'. I think it'll be pretty funny. Anyway, g'bye fer now.

Last Thanx to the reviewers:

Natsu-Aoki: Yes, I thought that Ghost as a priest would be funny as well. Nobody would see it coming, would they? Anyway, I hope you get your shtuff done soon (You had to move AGAIN? Whoa, that must really suck, man.) and that you liked the ending of the fic. You're making an online comic? Wow, that's cool! I'll have to check that out!

Mucomi: Hmph, well, you may THINK your more evil than me, but... oh, bugger it. Thanks for pointing out that flaw. It's corrected now, and with a few touch ups. Hope you liked the fic!

Charles Xavier: ... I will have to find out who this Clive Barker is, and why he has cenobites and I don't. Anyway, thanks for the reviews, and shtuff. Hope ya liked reading this fic!

Beholder Of The Shadows: Ah, what can I say? You've really encouraged me to finish this fic, that's for sure. That was really half the reason I posted the damn chapters in the first place: To see the weird stuff you would put in your review. It was kinda the high of the day, really. Anyway, I hope you liked the ending, and that you eventually read the weird shtuff I may post in the future!


Acrander: Well, you haven't been smoted, so I guess you can consider your peace offering accepted. Anyway, hope you learn French well enough, and that you liked ze fic. Otherwise you wasted a whole lotta time.

CJ-Chan: Ah, the fic is over, and now you can read it all from beginning to end, without wondering 'wtf is that weird person spouting about NOW?!'  Hope a enjoyed reading zis.

Well, that's about it then. If I didn't include you, and you want to be included, then say the magic words, and I'll do so.