The Passage

Another biggy.

It's Kyrah. You've seen her before: [link]

36" x 48" (3 ft x 4 ft)
Charcoal on paper

The Passage:

Kyrah studied the old gnarled tree before her. Legend had it that this tree had been here longer than any living being had and had the power to change the familiar. It was rumored to be able to transport those that touched it to other distant lands. Kyrah didn't believe it. She'd been hearing those tales since she was a child, and that was all they were - tall tales.

Nonetheless, Kyrah approached the tree cautiously, examining it from all sides. The trunk was thick and knotted, twisting up high above her head, it's branches nearly bare due to it being late fall. It's leaves carpeted the hard ground around it. It was definitely the most unique tree in the wood. Kyrah reached out toward it, hesitated, then touched her hand to it's tough skin. She flinched, as if expecting something unusual to happen, then relaxed when nothing did. She laughed out loud at her own superstitiousness. How could she be so naive as to have some lingering childlike expectation for something unusual to happen, simply by touching an old tree? Kyrah wrapped her arms as far around the old tree as she could and leaned into it, enjoying the contrast of the rough bark against her smooth cheek. There was nothing unusual about this tree at all, unless you count it's odd shape. She let go of the tree and dropped to sit at its base, eventually falling asleep against it, her head cradled by an odd curve and large knot in its trunk.

When Kyrah woke up, it was dark. The ground feel unusually smooth and flat to her, not lumpy at all. There was light coming in brightly behind her, and when she sat up, she realized there was no tree. In fact, there weren't any trees or grass or dirt, for that matter. Kyrah started to stand.

"Oof!"

She hit her head on something. A smooth, flimsy roof of some kind. She turned around and moved on her knees toward the triangle of bright light before her, blinking so that her eyes would adjust to the harshness of it. She reached the opening and gasped. It was not a house she had woken up in, but a very large book! The book she was in was stacked on other large books, all bigger than she was, and sitting against a wall of what looked like a very large library. Shelves lined the walls and books were stacked haphazardly all over them and even on the floors. The view was overwhelming, and Kyrah had never felt so small.

So the stories were true, she thought, her head pounding from the adrenaline coursing through her. But now what do I do?