Warning: Certain corrections may have been made to the previous chapters in order to fine tune the points and allow the further development of plot. But don't worry, it should be at most a slight change of details. Nothing too drastic. Happy reading!

Chapter 4

I awoke to a dull pain throbbing through my skull. I rolled over the soft maroon sheets and groaned. My eyes squinted open minutely, trying to pry past the imaginary planks that seemed to nail my eyelids together. When my eyes were fully opened, the memory of last night churned in my mind, jolting my brain to full awareness.

I sat up abruptly, my legs hanging over the silk quilts. A bone-deep chill coiled in my belly sending a shudder down my spine with the solemn knowledge that someone had tried to kill me. It became obvious to me that the screams had been a trap. I should have noticed the way the screams had echoed, the way the voice had floated, as though they sounded only in my head. Some one must have used a spell of sorts. But who? Someone powerful for certain-- no simple spell could get into someone's head. Even as I ran towards the shouts last night, it had puzzled me as to why no one else has heard them. But if the shouts were only meant for me, it made sense. What didn't make sense was why anyone would see me dead. I could think of no one who would wish death upon me. And no one in the village who could have murderous intent. The fact that anyone could escaped me.

I pushed the drapes aside, making a gap wide enough for me to survey the outside surroundings. The sun had yet to rise. The night blanketed the village in its thick darkness, and a whisper of wind caressed my face with its gentle fingers. No one was about yet --I was always one who rose early. Usually, I was comforted by the cloak of darkness the early dawn offered me, but today I shuddered in its presence, fearful of what lay hidden in its shelter. I lowered the curtains back into place and lit some candles, noticing with grim bleakness that my hands shook.

When the room was finally lighted up with a bright glow, I sunk myself onto a chair placed beside my bed and pulled the sheets from the bed over myself, covering the dark blue woolen robe I had on. I wrapped the covers about myself as though I was cold, my hands clenching tightly at the cloth. It wasn't until the glow of the sun peeked through the curtains and greeted me with its warmth that my hands stopped trembling.

When the familiar buzz of the awakening village reached my ears, I forced myself to get dressed. I purposely lingered over my wardrobe, as though wondering what I should wear. In the end, I picked out a common nondescript grey robe. It was sleeveless and fell to my ankles, as all of my others. I tied a similar-colored sash about its waist. I was about to slip my feet into a pair of sandals when the leather boots in the corner of the room caught my eye. I put on those instead-the better to run with. Grimly, I walked out of the room.

Somebody was in my cottage. I could hear footsteps moving about and the scraping sound of a chair on the floorboards. My heart thundered in my ears even though I knew it was probably only one of the village women who have come to clean up the room. A tingle of Wdya touched me, as a slow cool brush on my skin. And I knew it was Cristyn's mother, Adelia who has come. Even though I didn't have a breath of Wdya in me, I could sense and identify the powers of the others. Whether it was Adelia's cool, gentle power or Lyzzar's hot rushing one or Drusch's cold, shivering one, I could feel them upon my skin and name the source of power before I saw their faces. No one else in the village seemed to be able to do what I did, but I always figured that it was because they weren't powerless like me, and therefore wasn't as sensitive to the powers of the others. I never told anyone of my gift. For surely any gifts of mine would only add confirmation and approval of my being the One.

I walked out to greet Adelia. She had used her powers to lift the table as she dusted the area beneath, and was too busy to notice me. But Cristyn who sat in a chair facing the entrance of the inner hall saw me enter.

"Greetings of my heart, Sire," she said. Adelia's power faltered as she turned to look at me and the table crashed onto the ground with a loud thud. An apologetic look came over her face.

"Greetings Adelia, Cristyn."

"Had a good night yesterday?" Adelia chirped. She was a robust woman with graying hair that was tied neatly into a bun. Her face was gentle and still held some of the beauty she had when she was younger. She had put on a neat pink dress, covered in the front by a white lacy apron.

"A fine night," I lied.

"Must have been some night," Cristyn remarked, "you're up much later than normal. Mother and I thought that you would have already gone out." Her intelligent eyes probed at mine. I looked away.

"Yes," I mumbled. "I'll be going out for a short walk. I bid you both a sunny day."

Adelia bid me the same and I stepped out of the cottage into the morning air. I breathed deeply, inhaling the morning scents as I strolled absently about the milling village.

It wasn't long before I found myself back by the stream. The river was calm now and the clear waters trickled innocently downstream, sparkling playfully as though inviting me to join it in its trail. I followed the flowing waters, looking about for the rock with the arrow through it. I found it a few footfalls away. The arrow was gone. Apparently whoever had assailed me had taken the time to remove it. I bent one knee to the ground to take a closer look. A distinct mark where the arrowhead had struck marred the surface of the smooth boulder. I traced the disturbing mark with my fingertips. The mark was deep, a grave dent. Whoever did this was good at drawing a bow.

I rolled this knowledge in my mind and thought of all the names of the hunters in the village. I could name only ten. I would have to ask for the list of names from Drusch. I stood up and made my way back to my cottage.

I had just winded my way past the river, entering into the wheat fields when I was waylaid by approaching crop weavers. They had apparently heard of my 'unending' powers and wanted me to demonstrate it. Fedyas was amongst them. I was beginning to realize that my offering to teach Bryyan was a grave mistake. Of course Lyzzar would say that he had warned me. Fedyas stood amongst ten of the crop weavers, urging me on to try out a weaving spell for them.

"Why, I heard Bryyan say that your powers were so strong, he couldn't even feel any aura coming from you!" one of them burst out. To that I could only give a faint wavering smile.

"Really, Bryyan exaggerates," I mumbled as I tried to squeeze past them.

"Come on, demonstrate to us something. Show them that what my son tell is true." This came from Fedyas.

"Surely such an intricate job should be left to you professionals."

Fedyas shook his head sadly. "This spell is difficult to carry out. It's supposed to enable the crops to flourish even when water touches the ground. A spell that so far, only Drusch had been able to carry out. But surely, the One would be able to!"

At his proclamation, everyone shouted their agreement. I was desperate to escape by then. I looked wildly about to find something to distract their attention and was thoroughly relieved when I spotted Lyzzar coming down the winded path whence I had just came. I shouted his name and waved him over. He seemed to be in a hurry to go some place and it was with reluctance that he made his way towards us.

"Ah, Lyzzar. You have to convince the Sire here to try out a weaving spell for us," Fedyas declared after Lyzzar reached us.

In case Lyzzar might give the go-ahead, I added, "A spell only Drusch had been able to perform, so they say."

Lyzzar turned to the crowd and said apologetically, "It seems like the Sire might have to do this spell some other time. I was just on my way to fetch the Sire. There are certain things that require his attention."

I nodded my apologies as though I had not been unwilling to try it out just earlier, and the two of us walked away from the disappointed crowd. Whether the crowd believed that dry deception, I couldn't say, but even if they were unconvinced, I knew that none of them would speak that thought aloud.

"That was a close one," I commented when we reached some distance ahead, and were alone in the midst of rolling hills.

Lyzzar said thoughtfully, "This is becoming a problem. Just the other night, I heard Bryyan telling a group of his friends of your powers. And with great exaggeration, one might add," he turned to face me and continued, "I think right now, the whole village wants to view the truth of that testimony."

"I don't have to show them anything," I said, a little agitated and irritated at this inconvenience. I didn't need the messy problem of my lack of Wydya to haunt me now. I had enough problems trying to figure out my attempted murder. I haven't told Lyzzar of it. I wanted some time to think things through. And besides, I myself could hardly believe someone did try to kill me.

I turned to Lyzzar and realized he was speaking.

"... it might work only a while before the villagers will wonder at your unwillingness to work your Wydya."

"Let them wonder.." I said absently. And then a thought sprang to mind, "Or perhaps you can arrange for the elders to help me show a feat of power?"

He raised a brow, "You mean.."

I smiled deviously.

"I'll speak to them."

Twilight draped the evening sky and found me sitting at the inner hall with a list of names in hand. I had visited Drusch's cottage earlier to acquire the names of the hunters from him. However he wasn't home, so I took the liberty of exploring his personal library and managed to pick out a scroll that held duties of the villagers scribed. I had transferred the names of the hunters onto a starched piece of paper I took from Drusch's storage of stationery and returned the scroll to its original place without Drusch's returning. A part of me was glad that I didn't have to explain to him the reason I wanted the names.

There were just over twenty names and I stopped to think about each one carefully before moving on to the next. After a few passing moments, I realized the ridiculousness of the situation. There wasn't a person in the list whom I thought could have done it. In fact, the very idea that someone from this village could have shot at me was laughable! Could it be a person from outside the village? But the possibility was slim. Outsiders rarely visited Carrdorr. We were shielded with mountains on one side and thick forests on the other, making the village very inaccessible indeed. The village was also enchanted with spells to ensure that it remained that way. Not that we Carrdorrians are unfriendly but it had been done to ensure that the invincible threat that Drulyn had prophesied of would not infiltrate our land. So, that could only mean a fellow Carrdorrian had shot at me. An accidental shot, perhaps? But if so, why was I chased with a stream of them? But who would want me killed and for what motive?

There was power. But as known, I had no Wydya. Perhaps not known, but still Wydya waas non-transferable, so there wasn't any point in killing me for it. Control? No, that was silly. After all even if I weren't the One, Drusch would still be the village head...unless it was Drusch. No! I must be insane to even think it! Drusch and I might argue quite often but we certainly held no enmity between one another. I respected him in more ways than one. It was just a pity we always held varying opinions. And his stubbornness! Of course, I can be quite stubborn myself, but by Felgar's porridge, he has to be the most stubborn man borne alive!

So if it wasn't for power nor control, why would anyone want to kill me? I had little value besides that.

I looked at the list again. "Which one of you wants to kill me?" I mumbled softly, as though the paper could come alive and answer me. And then it occurred to me that there might have been more than one person who ambushed me. But I quickly swept that thought aside. I was skilled with the arrow and bow too, and I knew that the length of time taken to draw a bow, aim and then shoot had been too far apart for there to be two shooters. If there had been two shooters, I probably wouldn't have escaped unscathed. The shots would be extremely close.

Frustrated at being unable to think of anything else, I folded the paper and slipped it carefully into the seam of my robe.

. Note: I know the chapter is short. But I've worked on this for like more than a month. It seems my literary skills have dwindled to a dribble. I have plans for the story, but can't bring myself to write it. Only 1 person is reading this story at the moment, and I have to say that isn't inspiring my brain juices much. But you know whom u r that's reading this! And if no one reviews this, well then guess I'm about the only person who's reading this. Hah! )