Tell everybody I'm on my way
New friends and new places to see
With blue skies ahead
Yes, I'm on my way

Sirius had not been able to decipher the mysterious note carved into the bottom of the grave marker - he had been trained as a weapon, a homing hawk, and hawks did not need to read. He had had to rely on the dark pegasus, the “Commander Marisol”, to read the note to him and his friend. But he was trusting, and her words seemed to match image of the shackles and the wave, and so, when Charlotte had laughed and called for him to follow, he had. For a while he had run alongside her - but his legs were weak, and his wings were strong, and before long he had taken to the sky. His only disappointment was that the hatchling could not do the same.

The miles of the court slipped away from him as he lifted his wings in tandem to his heartbeat, the air coursing along his feathers. He twisted through the air alongside the foal, and for a while he did not think of the strange clues or the urgency of the commander. He thought only of the eddies of the wind, and the crash of the waves on the horizon.

Charlotte’s energy was contagious, and Sirius laughed as he dove through the air, the ground rushing up to meet him.

He raked back his wings and landed with a heavy thud, the impact reverberating through his bones. Slowly, with all the caution of an inspective mouse, he crept to the edge of the cliffs and peered down.

Far below him the waves roared, sending up sprays of water to kiss his brow. One slip and he would tumble through space, tumble down to where the jagged rocks waited. But he knew already that he had nothing to fear - only the wingless could not save themselves from a fall.

”There’s gotta be something here.” Charlotte’s voice shook him from his thoughts, pulling him away from the cliff. His pale eyes scoured the grassy bluffs - although he was not sure what he looked for. Sirius half believed he would find a treasure chest, or perhaps they would need to dig to uncover it (did not pirates bury their treasure? He had heard they did, so perhaps other hidden things were also buried.) But only the grass and the sky smiled back at him.

He snorted.

”What’s so special about this armor, anyway?” he asked, nudging an oddly shaped rock with his muzzle. It seemed strange to him that a pegasus would don armor to begin with - wouldn’t it slow them down in flight, or interfere with their wings? Were not pegasus skilled enough to evade any attacks that might be directed at them? He couldn’t say for sure - he had only ever chased grounded prey - but the concept was difficult to accept.

”And why is no one wearing it already, if it’s so important?” Surely such a treasured shield would not be discarded so easily.