The Zhactahl - Prologue

 

      As Tipp’s father and mother tuck him into bed, he asks, “Pappa, tell me about the Staff of Rhah.”

Jonis, Tipp’s father shakes his head. “I have told you that story so many times. Isn’t there another story you would rather hear tonight?”

Tipp’s eyes said it all and his father just sighed, sat down on the edge of the bed, and began. 
      “Legend has it that after the first war, the Keepers of the Land created a staff. This was not an ordinary staff because it had magic. The top of the staff looked like the Zhactahl; a white dragon with eyes the color of rubies. It is said the Zhactahl had talons the size of a man’s leg and razor sharp teeth with incisors the length of a man’s forearm.”

Tipp rolls over on his side, reaches up and assesses the size of his father’s forearm. He shakes his head in wonder.

“The dragon’s wings were so immense that they could block the noon-day sun from an entire village. It could also spew fireballs that could destroy a farmer’s fields with just one cough.”

Tipp sits up in bed and with eyes wide open announces, “Jiggers!  That would be something to see.”
“Yes, my son, I’m certain it was frightening and amazing at the same time.”

Tipp’s mother, Kindere, taps Jonis on the shoulder and whispers, “It’s past his bedtime. Finish up so he can get some sleep.”

Jonis gives Kindere a smile and continues. “Okay, the story goes that only a select few wizards could use the magic of the Staff to summon the dragon. The end. Now it’s time for our boy to get some sleep.”

As Jonis starts to rise, Tipp throws his arms around his father’s neck and whispers, “Thanks, papa. When I grow up, I’m going to be a wizard.”

Jonis kisses Tipp on his forehead and tucks him in one more time. “I’m sure you’ll make a great one. Goodnight, my son. Good dreams.”