Gorhanna

My feet hit the ground, my knees buckling from the fall. Everywhere I looked was pure darkness. I blinked, rubbing my eyes with shaking hands. Stars flashed in my eyes from rubbing so hard, but I still couldn’t see. Was I blind? Where was I? My knees were wet and my hands felt slimy. I gingerly stood up, moving my hands up my legs for support. As my hand grazed my thigh I felt something wrapped around my leg. I frowned, feeling it in the darkness trying to figure out what it could be. Touching cold metal, my heart skipped a beat. Fingers moving frantically to verify what I already knew. A pistol in a thigh holster that I'd never worn before, never shot before. Heart pounding, I could feel sweat dripping between my breasts. I’m not in Kansas anymore. I had no idea how I got the gun, and I was struggling to remember where I was before I was here. Think, Cora, think! An image slowly started to form in my mind. Bundles of fresh-cut flowers, piles of green beans, tomatoes. A farmers market! Yes, in SoHo. I was with Sarah. We had decided last minute to go to the market to get supplies for a friend’s version of ‘Chopped’. 

Like an elastic, my mind snapped back to the present. If I was here, where was Sarah? I swallowed, my mouth suddenly parched. “Sarah!” I called out in a hoarse whisper. No. I swallowed again, desperately trying to work up some moisture. “Sarah!” I yelled this time. I heard a faint echo, but nothing else. I started feeling all over my body. Maybe something more useful than a gun had magically appeared. Running my hands over my stomach I felt lots of bumps. I worked my fingers around them - they were all pockets. I was wearing some sort of vest. Sticking my fingers into each one, I methodically felt the contents of every pocket until - click. A shining beam of light shown from a pocket-sized flashlight. My eyes watered and burned, but I breathed a sigh of relief knowing that I wasn’t blind. Doing a three-sixty, I was surrounded by nothing but trees. Above was a sky full of stars; below, muddy leaves. With sweaty palms, I squatted down to take inventory of the rest of my vest. It appeared that most of the pockets were actually empty. A crease formed between my eyebrows. Why such a big vest with so little in it? Shaking my head, I laid out what I’d been ‘given’. A gun. I stared at it out of the corner of my eye, afraid to touch it in the wrong way. A flashlight. And water. I opened the water bottle, hearing a satisfying click as I broke the seal. I sniffed the water; not that I’d know if it was poisoned anyway. 

Taking a big swig, I looked all around. Should I just start walking? To where? In what direction? I put my head between my legs trying to stop the world from spinning away. I can’t just stay here. I could almost hear my father whispering in my ear, ‘failure is not an option.’ I clenched my teeth, attempting to swallow every ounce of fear in me. I strapped the gun back to my thigh, shoving the water back in my vest. Every direction looked the same, so I started out on my marching orders, thinking of nothing but escape. 

Keeping a brisk pace, I tried to stay on a straight path. The more I walked, the more distracted I became by the trees. There was something...not right about them. I couldn’t put my finger on what that was exactly. 

Snap. 

My head whipped around in the direction the sound came, my eyes wide as saucers. My heart pounded in my throat. Survive. Fight. The thoughts pushed their way to the front of my head and screamed, louder than ever before. I clenched my fists together, waiting to feel my nails digging into my skin. Instead, I felt something long and smooth in my right hand. Looking out the corner of my eye I could see my hand wrapped around a five-foot-long spear. Skin crawling, I tried to throw the spear, but I couldn’t let go. I willed my fingers to release, but it was like they weren’t even my own. Crack. My eyes snapped up and met the gaze of a tiger a mere ten feet from me. With a mighty roar the tiger leaped toward me, teeth bared and claws extended. It would’ve had me for a snack; except it fell backward with a spear between its eyes. Mouth falling open in horror, I stepped backward, tripping over a tree root. Falling backward, I grabbed a tree branch with my right hand. The hand that wouldn’t let go of the spear ten seconds earlier. The hand that, without my direction, had saved my life. I collapsed on the muddy ground, tears streaming down my face. None of this made sense. Things don’t just appear. People don’t just appear in places. And yet, here I was. Laying my head on my knees, I let my hands fall to my sides. My fingers brushed against something dry, leathery even. My eyes froze in place as I slowly sat up. It was a book. The cover and sides were blank, not giving any hints to the contents. I opened the book to the first page.  Welcome to Gorhanna, was written in large calligraphy across the page. The words looked strange, seeming to move as I read them. Turning the page, it felt old, well worn. You will always have what you need, but not until the time is right. There is only one way to escape, to know what you truly need, above all else. Then, you must claim it as yours, from the depths of the river Finali. Beware, dangers lurk around every corner. Gulping, I turned the page, but it was blank. I flipped through the rest of the book - every other page was blank. It sounded crazy. The water, flashlight, and spear proved my logical thoughts wrong. I shuddered, wondering what the gun was needed for. I paused, closing the book. If the only way to escape was knowing what you truly need, I had no hope. The question echoed through my mind, taunting me. What do I truly need?