Fool’s gold
Prologue; The Nightmare

Fire.
Bellowing. Blistering. Unrelenting.
It raged. It consumed. It destroyed.
The skeletal remains of a low table could just about be made out and flames erupted against the thatched roof.
The roar was deafening, the blazing furniture popped and cracked as it collapsed. Kicking up a swirling burst of embers into the baked oppressive air.
The cries.
They were horrible. Gut wrenching. Two of them, no three… one sounded young, really young...
A figure appeared out of the blaze. Tall. It charged forwards…
“Gaah!” A golden retriever pup sat up with a start – large, floppy dark yellow ears falling briefly in front of his wide eyes. One paw quickly grasped his slim, creamy furred chest as if to contain his rapidly thumping heart; his other held dumbly before him as if trying to grab something invisible.
After a few moments of panicked panting – he started to calm; outstretched paw came back to gently brush his palm over his eyes, digits pressing against his left temple to slowly massage the bruised, swollen flesh around his eye. The massage lasted a moment and only managed a slight grumble of mind relief from the pup. He tilted his head back and let his paw lower further, it’s digits brushed across the length of his snout and bumped over parts of his fat lip. Blood had crusted over them but not before seeping across his chin during the night.
The boy finally breathed one, hefty sigh through his snout and started to peer at his surroundings. A glance to his left and right, over the several sleeping bodies all upon their own small bedrolls on the wooden floor. The moonlight was hardly enough for details beyond the higher curves which it shimmered upon. Despite most of the room being cast in shadows or odd twilight it was still obvious that it was small and cramped.
The golden furred pup slowly stood himself up, one paw coming to rest against his side as he came to a full stand. As if a twinge of pain, or weakness existed there. He winced sharply and hissed out a breath, more through fear he’d wake his sleeping friends. He appeared no older than seven; judging by the fact that it looked his body had a little more growing to do. Those floppy ears looked oversized and his fur still appeared fluffy. He was a pretty boy, too; golden fur, soft features. He was slim, dainty in build. The moonlight revealed his night dress, a simple cloth wrapped about his narrow waist to keep him decent.
He wandered forwards, carefully stepping over the snoozing body of a young, snoozing tiger he’d wander over to a large, glassless window. He stepped right out onto a small balcony; the movement did not appear to be entirely comfortable for him. There was quite a distinct limp to his gait.
Finally, he came to rest, free paw resting on top of an ornate, but weathered wooden railing and he stared out over the valley.
It was an odd valley surrounded by sandy mountains; which gave way to a lush green nirvana, tall trees and an expansive wilderness. The temple which he stared out of, was built high on one of the hills. Below the balcony was a cobble pathed courtyard, with a large grassy arena built in it’s centre. Pillars, that once supported something stood up tall from each corner. The surrounding buildings weren’t as tall as the tower. But they all had the same; almost oriental style of build. Golden painted patterns to frame the red, rolling tiles. Such a place didn’t belong in the desert. Yet here it was.
“Nightmare again?” came a young voice from behind him.
A quick glance over his shoulder and the pup smiled briefly, but sleepily, “Hey Alec…”
Another boy – a purely dark furred jackal stepped behind him, then wrapped his arms around the smaller boy’s middle, dark furred chin resting on top of his golden furred head. Alec was a good few inches taller than the other pup which made his head a good chin-rest. “Same one?”
The golden furred pup slowly lent back into his friend’s embrace, which tightened somewhat to support him. “Mhmm…”
“C’mon, we should get back to sleep…” the dark furred jackal suggested, he too stared out over the valley.
“I don’t wanna…”
“Scared of the nightmare?” the jackal asked, voice softer than before.
“Mhmm…” the dog wiggled his arms out from beneath his jackal friend’s, then gently rested his paws on top of Alec’s, so their arms stacked up neatly.
“Come on, if it comes back I’ll kick its butt, yeah?” The Jackal slipped his snout beside the golden boy’s cheek.
The pup sighed at length, then shook his head subtly a few times. He slowly curled his bushy tail between his legs; it wisped between his knees.
“No?” The jackal stood himself up again and stepped to the side, paws rested on the golden pup’s shoulders and forced him to turn so they were face to face. The jackal hunkered down somewhat, so they were eye to eye, then stared into the boy’s own with intent.
The golden furred pup turned and curiously peered upwards. Glacial hues met his own, the demeanour of that stare made him instinctively curl his ears backwards and tilt his snout downwards.
“Dastan. You are not going to let a scary dream beat you, are you? That isn’t something my brother would do…” The jackal rose his brows quizzically. “Hmm?” He gave a quick, jolting shake to his smaller friend’s shoulders, making his head bounce upright.
“Yeah! I mean, well no… but…” he huffed quickly, briefly baring his small fangs. Dastan rose his paws up and gripped Alec’s wrists tightly to stop the shaking.
“But what?” The jackal imposed impatiently.
“It feels so real…”
Alec paused for a moment, then gave a knowing nod. He stood back up straight, then drew his smaller friend against his chest, arms wrapping around his shoulders for another, comforting hug. A tight one, at that. “They all do…”
Dastan half lidded his eyes and rose his arms up to slide when around Alec’s neck. He turned his head so it was neatly tucked beneath his friend’s chin.
“They always feel real… for all of us.” Alec’s tone was softer again, back to its previous reassuring tone.
“We are living a nightmare, that’s why…”
Alec laughed, breathily. “Maybe…” the brief smile faded, “But it is our life…”
The two fell into silence for a moment, listening to the quiet hiss of the wind teasing rustling through the leaves of the oasis that surrounded them. Somewhere in the distance, a bird chirped; it’s call echoing through the valley.
“Come on… we need to sleep,” the jackal gave an encouraging tug with his arms.
“Okay…”
The pair stepped apart, then turned in unison to head back into their respective bed rolls. They both laid down. The jackal on his back – arms curling up behind his head with a slow huff. “Good night, Das-aah…” The golden pup had crawled over and laid down at Alec’s side, his head resting on top of his dark furred chest, one arm lazily flopped across his belly. His surprise lasted for a moment. A breathy laugh followed and he relaxed again.
“Night…” the golden pup whispered. Eventually, they both drifted back off to sleep…
Six months later…
 “Again!” barked an old male voice. It carried quite well in the valley, “Begin!”
The metallic slicing of blades cutting through the air, whipping side to side in rapid, practiced movements. The young, cloth clad bodies of their wielders moved in hasty unison. They looked exhausted – most of them had dried blood caked to their fur, half of them had black eyes, busted lips or bandages wrapped around their middles or limbs. Their bare legs were plastered with dirt, from the trodden mud they trained on.
But still they moved, forwards a few paces. A lunge with their swords. Then left a with a quick flourish, swords lifted. A quick few skips back, with a sweeping twirl.
“Sloppy. To slow!” The old male barked aggressively, arms tucked neatly behind his back. The was a tall man and despite being aged the tiger was clearly healthy. Shirtless body boasted hefty arms, broad chest with defined pectorals and almost chiselled abs; at least up until they vanished into the red sash that was around his waist; holding up the black harem pants that covered his equally as impressive legs. His face was a serious scowl, with longer; which chin fur giving the impression of a goatee. He was not one to be trifled with; as the various scars over his face, arms and chest suggested. People had tried.
“I do not care if your muscles burn, or your body grows weak.”
The battered brood stepped it up their complex kata. Still in unison they stepped back, rolled their blades about their paws before striking them up into the air. A quick jog forwards and they all leapt into the air – throwing themselves into a quick forwards summersault. They landed with a sharp lunge forwards with their swords.
“Good! Now turn!”
“Ah!” Dastan lost his footing, his arms flailed up into the air but he could not stop himself from toppling, weak legs just could not support him any longer and he gave in to the exhaustion. The pup fell onto his back, into the dirt; soiling his otherwise beautiful, golden fur. “Aah!” He relinquished his sword as he sat up, in favour of cupping them both of his chest as he gasped deeply to replenish the air that had just been shocked out of his lungs.
All the other boys stopped, sunk their arms to their sides and ducked their heads.
“Grassa!” 
In, what can only be described as a flash the tiger had lunged forwards – a large paw reached behind the pup’s head and grasped him by the fleshy folds of his scruff. With no effort at all he hoisted the small boy up into the air, which ripped a sharp, squeaked “Ah!” from him. His word flew off and twanged against a stone pillar nearby.
Instinctively Dastan’s legs curled up and his arms crossed over his chest, as he was dangled before the tiger’s, furious face. He could not even look at that snarl; so, he turned his head away and let out a slow, trembling whimper as if to beg for mercy.
The tiger’s response was a spine-chilling growl, a quick and very clear message to ‘shut up’. A message that was very quickly received.
“You are weak. You would be dead on assignment. Perhaps you should be dead now!”
All the pup saw was a fist, then world went black…
Out of the blackness, came a faint voice. Yet it was familiar to Dastan, a female voice that cooed to him that echoed in the darkness. A sweet, slow lullaby. Though, she sung in a language he did not understand. Its melody was calming; as if it cradled him. Soothed him. Took away his pain.
There were flashes of a shadowy face – features almost indistinguishable. Almost as if there was a mist surrounding it – swirling. It grew thicker. It started to swirl. Suddenly, she screamed in agonising pain. A high pitch, terrified, final scream.
He had heard this before. Many times.
As the scream edged on, between rapid, gagging breaths.
“Dastan!”
Fire erupted all around him, raging suddenly. Filling the darkness with its anguish and rage.
“Wake up!”
Another scream echoed in the distance and, just like he had seen, many times before, the figure appeared. Standing stoic amongst the balling inferno. Staring, right at him.
It charged forwards!
“DASTAN!”
The pup’s eyes flew open and he gasped sharply. His lungs had been empty.
Alec was leaning over him, both paws pinning his shoulders flat against his bed. “Heey, hey hey… it’s okay…” The jackal reached one paw above Dastan’s head and moved his ears back down in a reasonably dignified position.
The golden pup started to pant deeply when he’d finally re-filled his lungs with air. It was then he noticed in the faint flicker of the candle lit room, that all of the other students were sat up in their beds, staring at him. Though, one by one they started to settle down again. The excitement was apparently over…
He re-focused on Alec again, but barely. “Did I…”
The jackal nodded. “Screamed the house down…” he lamented with a slow sigh. “You have to fight this, brother. You can’t let it beat you…”
Dastan slowly lifted a paw up, to rub his digits carefully over his eye. The flesh around it was swollen, sore and raw. He winced and let his lids drift closed slowly. “Mmmn…”
Alec sat back and took up a soaked rag from a small wooden bowl that was beside Dastan’s bedroll. He wringed out the excess water, then reached over to softly rub it alongside the golden fur of his friend’s small snout. The rag had clearly been used before – it already had blotted stains of faint and dark blood soaked into its fibres… “Teacher Kamash really hit you hard this time…” he mused, while his other paw gently guided his friend’s paw downwards, to rest it on Dastan’s chest. “We feared the worst when we saw the blood…”
“That w-why my head hurts?” Dastan croaked out; in a tone that was almost comically innocent.
It even bought a small grin to the jackal’s snout. “I’d say so.” He finally dumped the rag back into the bowl, then sat back on his hunches with quick puff. “Sleep, Dastan. You need to be strong for the first trials…”
Dastan slowly rocked his head in, what could be assumed was a few lazy nods. “Okay…”
The jackal started to shift onto his own bedroll…
“Alec…”
He turned his head to look at his downed friend again, “Yeah, floppy ears?”
“If… we get a chance to leave this place, I mean really leave… would you?”
The jackal laughed a breathy snicker, then laid down with a sigh. “We’re brothers, Dastan. We gotta stick together, right? Now, go to sleep.”