Sira was patient. She floated in the winds above the training fields and watched. Darius was stronger than she’d imagined, and he was learning quickly. She had thought of influencing his thoughts during training, but that was too risky. Being so close to Barsovy, she very likely would have been detected. And Prydon...he was always nearby, and although Fraenir and Klavon were willing to underestimate him, she was not. No. Timing was everything. All she could do was watch and wait.
And now there was another player in the game, a young boy named Loklan. It was almost amusing, watching them fight. Perhaps she could use Loklan’s condemnation to sway Darius. With the mark, the curse, no one would ever understand or accept him. Yet if she could convince him that the mark was not a curse but a gift—convince him that Prydon lied to keep him from discovering his real strength—she could secure a place for him beside Klavon.
There was so much to consider. She would watch Darius, and Loklan, and determine the best way to undermine Prydon.
Sleep would be the best choice. Prydon would be unaware, and Darius’s mind would be most easily influenced. And the dreams must be effective, planned with utmost care. That night, Sira rode the wind in the starlit sky and decided to let the boy sleep.