Disclaimer: So I don't own FF8 aspects of this story, okay? I'm fine with that. I'm not bitter at all. In fact, I don't want to own it! I'm fine the way I am, thank you very much.

Alternate Fantasy

By Draic

Chapter Twelve: Hide the Scars

The middle-aged blonde sighed, rose from his simple but cluttered wooden desk and crossed to a small filing cabinet to the right of the desk. Crouching down, he pulled open and flicked through the lower drawer, finally pulling out a sheaf of papers marked 'Alie, Tytha'. Shaking his head in irritation, he stood and kicked the drawer shut.

Rifling through the pages, he pulled out one entitled, "Medical Records". Resting for a moment on the edge of the desk, Parelan skimmed through the contents, though it was his own handwriting scrawled over the page and he knew the contents by heart:

"Tytha Alie was first admitted to the Infirmary after an incident during a class on Monster recognition. According to her Instructor, she'd wandered too close to the Grat enclosure and had received a sharp blow to the midriff, cracking a rib.

She was later brought in with deep lacerations across her neck and throat, inflicted during a combat training session by her partner, Cadet Yil Derreth.

After her first attempt at the Fire Cavern test, she was treated for severe burns. During an encounter with a Bomb, she was driven to the edge of the pathway and lost her footing. Her right foot was submerged to the ankle in lava. Despite partial protection from her Elemental Defence Junction, she lost the use of her foot."

The blonde moved purposefully back to his chair, clutching the paper with white knuckles. He grabbed a nearby pen and scrawled a new entry on the paper:

"Tytha was again admitted after the Field Exam so a bullet could be removed from her left thigh. There were no complications."

He signed the entry, just as he had all the others. Dr P. Dincht, M.D

Then he threw the pen at the wall opposite.

Dr. Dincht rested his head in his hands. He had hoped never to see Tytha again. He had hoped never to have to see another of her injuries, or to hear of the circumstances surrounding the event.

Tytha was careless, naïve and inexperienced when the doctor first met her, and somehow managed to retain those qualities through the seven years since that first tearful encounter. And no one else seemed at all worried about that.

The blonde tried to shake away that line of thinking, and rose from his desk once more. He paced across the room and bent down to retrieve his pen. Straightening, he found himself staring through the open doorway at the girl lying on the bed.

Even her teachers don't seem to understand. She's clumsy, she has no focus and she has entirely the wrong sort of mind for fighting. She wasn't ready to be trained with a deadly weapon. She wasn't ready to enter the Fire Cavern. And she sure as hell wasn't ready to take the SeeD Exam. She's proved them wrong over and over again… and they still think she's ready to be a SeeD! Luck can only hold out for so long…

Tytha was clearly awake but facing the window, presumably watching the sun scaling the sky, as nothing else seemed to be happening in the plains that stretched out to the northern mountains. As he silently studied her slender form, she stirred and rolled over, her short dark hair replaced by pale blue eyes and a small mouth that broke into a slightly crooked smile at the sight of the man in the doorway.

"Hi, Doctor Dincht."

"I thought by now we might have been on a first name basis, Cadet Alie," the doctor said, flashing a smile of his own.

"Sorry, Doctor," the girl replied, giggling a little.

He winced inside, but kept the smile on his face. "Well, since you insist on seeing me that way, I guess I have to comply. So how are you feeling?"

"Fine."

At his raised eyebrow, she straightened to a sitting position and corrected herself. "I mean, I can't feel much of my leg, though it does ache a bit."

"That's good to hear. You were shot in the thigh, after all; I should hope you'd be a bit worse than 'fine'. The ache is probably just the painkillers wearing off, but let me know if it gets any worse."

"Okay," Tytha replied, and turned to the window once more.

"What is it you're looking at?" the blonde asked.

Tytha turned her head and looked at him with shining eyes. "I'm waiting for the flowers," she said.

The doctor blinked. "The flowers?"

She went slightly pink, but explained herself. "A few years ago, I went exploring with my friends and found this huge patch of flowers near the edge of the forest. You can't see them now, but when the sun gets a little higher…" she sighed. "They're like a beautiful patchwork quilt."

"You should write that down," the doctor advised. "I think I'll have to see this for myself. Call me in when you find them?"

"Sure!" she said, and rolled back to the window.

The doctor turned to leave the room, but seemed to change his mind. "Congratulations on passing the SeeD exam."

"Thanks!" the girl replied, not looking away from the window. Dr. Dincht shook his head amusedly.

Flowers. She's just passed her SeeD exam despite being shot, and all she's thinking about is flowers.

As he passed through the doorway, his grin slipped.

Hyne, Tytha, what are you doing here? You're no soldier; you're a dreamer. You should be painting pictures or writing poetry or something! Garden or no, if you're looking for flowers, you're in the wrong place… I just wish you could have worked that out yourself by now.

Tytha's biggest problem was probably also her greatest asset; she was incredibly resilient. She'd had to be, in order to keep going with her training after so many injuries. Whatever life threw at her, she'd bounce back twice as determined as before. But that meant that instead of using her failures to learn from, she was diving headlong back into the same fight - and not realising how badly she was losing.

Someone would have to point it out to her. Point it out so plainly and clearly that there was no room for argument. It would hurt. Hyne would it hurt. But the doctor knew better than most that things tend to get worse before they get better.

He crossed once more to his desk, pulled the keyboard towards him and began typing.

The Doctor grinned. It was a beautiful morning, he hadn't had to treat any worse than a twisted ankle in the last few days, and he'd just witnessed his son perform a backward handspring.Zell was absolutely ecstatic, and had been practically bouncing off the walls as he raced off to tell everyone he knew. There was something incredibly infectious about Zell's laughter, in his father's extremely biased opinion, and he almost felt like turning a cartwheel himself.

He felt so inspired that he was actually cleaning his desk. It was a rare occurrence that the doctor could bear to sort through the piles of paperwork that not only enveloped the desk, but also spilled over its edges. The filing cabinet was going to be a lot fuller than it had been in a while before this day was done.

There was a knock at the door, and the blonde turned to find Headmaster Cid standing in the doorway. The older, dark-haired man gave an amused smile at the surprise written across the doctor's face.

"Do you mind if I come in?" the Headmaster asked.

"Sure! Come on in!" the younger man replied. He scratched his head idly as he looked around the room. "Uh… I'm afraid there's only one chair… and the desk is such a mess…"

Cid waved his hand amicably. "Don't worry about it, Doctor. If there's one thing I've learned from all those darn speeches, it's how to be comfortable standing up."

Dr. Dincht grinned. "Well, if you're sure… So how are you, old man?" he asked, leaning back on the desk.

"''Old man?'" The Headmaster repeated, folding his arms. "Please. I'm barely ten years your senior, Doctor."

"Well, a lot can happen in ten years, Cid. Look at Zell - he's not much older than ten and just this morning showed me a flawless backward handspring."

Cid smiled to himself. "Well, he certainly has a lot of energy. It seems he finally found the right way to channel it."

"That he did," said his father. "But enough of this fatherly babble. What brings you to my humble office?"

Cid paused before replying, unfolding his arms and studying his hands. "It has come to my attention that you have expressed some concern over the treatment of SeeD Tytha Alie."

The doctor's grin slid off his face and he sighed. "I was wondering when I'd be hearing about that."

"You must realise, doctor, that stripping a student of the ranking of SeeD is not a punishment we have ever performed before… let alone rejecting them and severing all their ties with Garden!"

"I know."

"What exactly is it about Miss Alie that makes you think she is deserving of such a thing?"

"She's not," Dincht said wretchedly, "and that's the worst of it." He pushed off the desk and began pacing back and forth. "She's one of the cheeriest and most upbeat people I have ever had the pleasure to meet. She's very intelligent and has a great sense of humour…

"But…?" Cid supplied.

"But…" the blonde turned to face the Headmaster. "She shouldn't be here. She's a dreamer, not a mercenary! Have you seen her sketches? Her poetry? She's certainly the best developing artist I've seen during my time here. She should be drawing for a living, not playing at soldiers."

"Don't you think that's for her to decide?" the Headmaster asked gently. "She seems quite happy to be here."

"And ordinarily that would be enough for me. But have you seen her medical record?"

"She's had a few accidents," Cid admitted.

"She's bloody careless!"

"Now, now…"

"She is and you know it! She's careless, she has little concentration and she can't think ahead. You can't afford to have someone like that on a battlefield, let alone a more specialised mission."

"Her Instructors seem to think otherwise."

"Then her Instructors are wrong!"

There was a silence as the two men watched each other. Doctor Dincht suddenly realised two things. Firstly, that his hands were clenched in fists. Secondly, that Cid himself was one of Tytha's Instructors.

"I'm sorry, Cid…" he started, relaxing his hands.

Cid stepped forward, clasping his hands in front of him. The doctor recognised the pose. It was usually reserved for admonishing rambunctious students. This did not bode well.

"It seems to me, doctor, that this is not about Miss Alie at all. In fact, I think you need to reassess which battle you are fighting."

The blonde rubbed a hand across his face. "Please spare me the runaround, Cid. What do you mean?"

"I think your true complaint is over the way we Instructors select our SeeDs. Am I right?"

The older man's dark eyes glared frostily into the doctor's blue.

"Headmaster, please do not make this personal. I'm just asking you to review the way you train your students."

"Refusing to consider personal implications is always a mistake, Doctor. You want me to raise the expectations of SeeD? I suggest you consider what effect that will have on the other students, your 'son' included."

Parelan's breath left him as the Headmaster's implications sunk in. He stared at the older man, stunned.

"I'm sure I don't need to remind you of Zell's records, Doctor. They are not unlike SeeD Tytha's own. I'm sure you would have noticed the likeness yourself."

Cid turned to leave the room as Dr. Dincht slumped against his desk.

"And Doctor?" Cid called over his shoulder. "Try not to make this personal."

The desk was now bare but for two folders; two names. Tytha Alie and Zell Dincht. Zell's folder had never been filed away since the blonde's entry to Garden. It had always been where the doctor could easily access it - on his desk. But as the doctor grew busier and messier, the folder had been buried under the maelstrom of paper that was now stacked against the filing cabinet.

Doctor Dincht was pacing around in a daze. He'd ordered lunch from the cafeteria, but had barely touched it since it arrived. He knew exactly what was in those two folders. He'd written every line and had more than a professional interest in both. He didn't need to read them… he didn't need to put them side by side to compare the two… and yet he never had before. Never before had he connected his personal misgivings about Garden's effectiveness with his son. Zell was a great student, wasn't he? Enthusiastic, skilled, with a keen interest and a tendency to bounce back from whatever life threw at him…

The phrase stuck in his mind. Hadn't he been thinking exactly the same thing about Tytha? That her quick recovery skills meant she didn't learn? The Headmaster was right. The two were much too similar.

The doctor stopped pacing and squeezed his eyes closed. I'm sure I don't need to remind you of Zell's records, Doctor…

Soon after his eighth birthday, Zell had broken his left arm during a gymnastics lesson with his Instructor, Kelo Ender. At age ten, like Tytha, he'd had a run-in with a Grat and ended up comatose from a nasty blow to the head. On that information alone, there'd be not much cause for concern, but the break had occurred because he'd attempted a dive from a wooden horse on his first lesson and the Grat incident had been part of a dare - he'd been challenged by another cadet to steal one of the mother Grat's eggs from it's nest.

They are not unlike Tytha's own…

Perhaps Zell didn't exhibit the utter carelessness that Tytha did, but Tytha herself hadn't shown as much of it at Zell's age. The signs were definitely there, though. Headstrong, overexcitable, and unable to see the consequences of his actions…

There'd been no accidents lately, though… perhaps that showed that, unlike Tytha, Zell was learning? His father sincerely hoped so.

He glanced over at the stack paper against the filing cabinet and sighed. If Cid hadn't come in this morning, I might have had all that sorted by now. He crossed wearily to the filing cabinet and picked up the top sheet.

"Dr. Dincht! Dr. Dincht!"

The man in demand looked up from the last few papers at the source of the panicked voice.

"Yes? What is it?"

The agitated cadet danced from foot to foot. "There's been an accident! We didn't mean it, I swear!"

The doctor straightened. "Don't worry about that now. What happened and where?"

"We were in the training centre," the boy said, and bit his lip. "He's bleeding… I think he hurt his head…"

"Is he away from the monsters?" Parelan cut in.

"Yeah… we got him to the Secret Area… I'm really sorry!"

"You've done the right things so far," the doctor said as he grabbed his medical kit from a hook on the wall. He turned to the cadet, who was still rubbing his arm frantically. "Look, if you want to help, see if you can get me a bucket of water for me. And Instructor Foset should be in the cafeteria. Get her to guide you back through the Training Centre."

The boy nodded and dashed off. Parelan followed him down the corridor and turned left, breaking through a trio of girls as he hurried to the Training Centre. As he reached the entrance to the humid jungle, he pulled a small whistle from his pocket and raised it to his mouth. There was no sound as he blew through the instrument, but the rustling in the surrounding bushes told of Grats scurrying away. Clenching the whistle in his teeth, he continued running, every exhale sending up a wave of rustling. As he neared the entrance to the Secret Area, he dropped the whistle back into his pocket and broke through the archway.

Against the backdrop of the setting sun was a disturbing scene. Five junior cadets and an older man were crowded around a sixth student, lying unmoving on the ground. As the doctor approached, the Instructor motioned for the cadets to stand back. Parelan could now see the boy on the ground. More importantly, he could see the blood and dirt that covered the left side of his face and stained his hair bright crimson.

"What happened?" the doctor asked as he knelt beside the boy. He took note of the boy's chest rising and falling then took a cloth and a flask of water from his bag, wet the cloth and began washing the boy's neck as the Instructor answered.

"He got in the way of Lowen's cat-o-nine-tails. Hit him across the face."

The doctor's fingers had already found the pulse at the boy's throat and his attention moved further upwards. The entire left side of the boy's face was a mess of torn flesh. In one place, the doctor could see the kid's cheekbone. Parelan took a breath and forced himself to concentrate on what he was doing, rather than what he was doing it to.

"…Where's this Lowen now?" the doctor asked of the Instructor. Look after all patients.

"I sent him to get you," the man replied. Good. At least he's doing something to help. The Instructor's voice had sounded a little strained, but also familiar. The doctor glanced up for a second.

"Thought that was you, Kelo. Where's…"

"…Pa?"

Parelan Dincht stared down at his son. His hand froze.

Zell lapsed into unconsciousness again.

Cid entered the Secret Area, for once not there to send over-excitable couples back to their respective dorms. Instructor Ender looked up as he passed then resumed speaking softly to six of the seven cadets on the balcony. The seventh was at the opposite end, seemingly asleep on the floor. He was lying with his head facing away from the Headmaster, and there was blood in his hair. Resna Foset was setting up a stretcher beside the boy.

The last person on the balcony was leaning against the railing and also facing away from Cid, staring out over the treetops at the bright lights of Garden's central sectors.

As the Headmaster joined him at the railing, he murmured, "Could you spare a cigarette?"

"You don't smoke, doctor," Cid reminded him softly.

The blonde man laughed, a harsh sound quite unlike the heartfelt chuckles Cid had grown accustomed to. "Aren't I usually the one telling you that?" the doctor mused. "But right now, I can understand why I keep having to ask you to get rid of them. I don't suppose I can drink, either. No. I shouldn't do that."

There was a heavy silence but for the murmuring of the children. The Headmaster broke it first.

"How is he?"

The doctor still didn't turn his head. "…Alive," he stated after a moment. "His vital signs are stable, but he's lost a lot of blood so I'll need to keep him resting up in the Infirmary for a couple of days. His… face needed stitches despite the healing magic I used on him, so it will still leave quite a few scars."

"I'm relieved," Cid said.

"He almost lost an eye."

Cid had no reply for that.

"You know how it happened?" Parelan asked. Cid didn't answer; he wasn't expected to. "Kelo was training one kid to use a cat-o-nine-tails while the others were supposed to be watching. But Zell decided to show the others the backward handspring he learned this morning. He leapt right into the path of the whip."

The older man looked over at the doctor and hesitated. "It was a dangerous decision the Instructor made…"

"No," the younger man cut in. He stood up straight and looked at Cid for the first time since he'd arrived.

"No, Cid. It was a stupid, careless thing for Zell to do. You were right about him. He's just as much of a problem as Tytha is."

"I didn't mean it like that…" Cid protested.

Dr. Dincht cut over him. "Both of them think they are invincible. They think they are ready to take on anything that comes for them." He took a deep breath. "And that's why I have to ask you again to change your teaching methods. Because they're not, Cid. They're not even close."

"Parelan-"

"No, Cid. That's all. I resign."

With that, the blonde turned from the stunned Headmaster and moved to tend to his son.

Yesh shirree. Looking back on this chapter, it could well have been a story on it's own. In fact, I even know what happens next and am currently trying to work out if I can work it into the story somewhere else. I don't want to spend another chapter on Parelan at this point in time, and this chapter is too long as it is to add in any more. It isn't even part of the main plotline and look what's happened! (Sigh). Now then…

AUTHORS:

Faery-of-fiction (you're so dedicated and perceptive. Unlike Squall - that's why he didn't recognise Irvine)

Seventhe (hehe, you're funny. You sound like me! Um, that's supposed to be a compliment, I think…)

Vick330 (ask and you shall be answered…later. And you have an interesting point there about the confusion. Hmm… By the by, I hope this chapter answered some of your early questions, though I'd been planning it before you asked them, too… if there's still confusion, please let me know)

Oh, and I have a feeling I should mention that in this chapter, I borrowed two ideas from two great authors without their permission:

The silent whistle that scares away Training Centre monsters comes from "Sowing The SeeDs" by Greenbeans;

And the fact that Cid smokes was brought in because it is part of Geitzeng's three-part series (Figlio Perduto, Pity the Child, A Question of Honor)

Okay, so they're not huge story elements but it feels nice to give some sort of continuity or 'blending' of stories to keep the same 'world'.

I'm pretty sure I've been doing the same thing throughout the story so far, and I'll try to mention those as well, but until then, the only one I can recall is the idea of Rinoa being in the car at the time of Julia's crash wasn't my own. I think it came from Ashbear's "Castles In The Sky", but I haven't read the story for a while so I'm not completely certain.

So then, remember (because I nearly forgot): Read, Review, and Roneo! Um, on second thoughts, don't. The last one, I mean! Just don't do the last one! Oh, dammit. Well, see you next time!

Draic

P.S. The next chapter should be up pretty soon, seeing as it is already written - I just need to check it once more.

This chapter is dedicated to Greenbeans "Sowing the SeeDs" and Gietzeng's serieseses, as apology for stealing cigarettes and whistles while they weren't paying attention.

(Besides, Dark Phoenix still isn't an author, so I can't advertise any Dark Phoenixy stories)

Seriously, both are FANTASTIC stories, but plenty long - get yourself a meal and a cushion

(All packed? Let's go!)

http:?storyid=385337

(gietzeng - "Figlio Perduto)