Pegasus.
The moment Salomon held the small sculpture, something clicked.
It reminded him of a very specific kind of creature. Not myth. Not legend.
A summon.
More precisely—something like the astral companion bound to a certain infamous drow ranger. A creature born of the Astral Plane, not flesh and blood in the conventional sense.
The Astral Plane wasn't really a "place" in the usual way. It was an endless expanse of silver emptiness, a realm of thought more than matter. Solid objects existed there, but only barely, like ideas pretending to be real.
Calling it a plane was already a stretch.
It was closer to a mental ocean connecting everything else.
Salomon lifted the Pegasus figurine closer to his eyes.
The craftsmanship was flawless. Too flawless.
He could feel it now.
This wasn't a mythological beast in the way stories described. It had nothing to do with Medusa or Poseidon. Whatever Pegasus was—
It belonged to something deeper.
Something older.
Something… astral.
How Athena had managed to capture or bind such a creature, he had no idea.
But he filed that thought away.
Because there was another detail he couldn't ignore.
If Pegasus had truly been lent to Bellerophon once before—
Then the story of him being thrown from the sky wasn't fiction.
That part was probably real.
Salomon closed his hand around the sculpture.
Then bowed.
"Thank you," he said, perfectly composed.
On the surface, flawless etiquette.
But Athena wasn't fooled.
Not even slightly.
She leaned forward, presence pressing down like a drawn blade.
"Still not satisfied?"
Salomon lowered his head further.
And, very carefully—
Did not look up.
Twelve was an unfortunate age.
Because while his mind stayed sharp, his body… had other priorities.
Athena's clothing didn't help.
Loose.
Light.
Unapologetically revealing.
He had made the mistake of glancing once.
Just once.
That had been enough.
Too much information.
"Your Highness," he said, forcing his tone steady, "this gift is more than generous. I'm… very grateful."
Athena tilted her head slightly.
Then noticed.
And instead of stepping back—
She leaned in closer.
Deliberately.
Her clothing was an odd blend of ancient and modern. The structure echoed early Greek styles, cinched at the waist with a metallic belt, layered skirt falling in careful folds. But the upper garment had been adapted—softer fabric, thinner ties, designed more for comfort than tradition.
It didn't hide much.
And Athena had no reason to care.
She had never been modest.
Why would she be?
To her, beauty wasn't something to conceal. It was something to wield.
Something to take pride in.
Salomon, meanwhile, was seconds away from retreating behind the couch.
Athena didn't avoid admiration.
If anything—
She expected it.
Preferred it.
Heroes admired her.
Respected her.
Followed her.
That was the dynamic she understood.
And Salomon?
He had potential.
She could see it clearly.
If she shaped him herself—
He might become something extraordinary.
A true hero.
Not a cloistered sorcerer buried in books.
A warrior.
Someone who faced the world head-on, spear in hand.
Magic was useful.
But it wasn't enough.
Not for someone like him.
Of course, the Ancient One had already claimed that role.
Athena wasn't foolish enough to push too far.
Not yet.
Still…
Teaching him how to fight properly?
That was a thought worth keeping.
—
Salomon had no idea what she was thinking.
If he did, he'd probably laugh.
A hero?
Not happening.
He had no interest in that.
Responsibility didn't come from power.
It came from position.
If it wasn't his place, it wasn't his problem.
He would protect what mattered to him.
Because of what he'd been given.
Because of the Ancient One.
That was enough.
The rest?
Not his concern.
Anyone who had seen the scale of the universe up close—
Wouldn't waste time chasing approval from the mundane world.
Kamar-Taj didn't stand apart out of arrogance.
It stood apart because it had to.
—
Athena straightened suddenly.
As if she had come to a decision.
Without another word, she turned and walked out of the room.
Salomon exhaled.
Finally.
Air.
A moment later, she returned.
In her hands—
A round object, wrapped in sheepskin.
She stepped forward and placed it in front of him.
"This," she said, "is my shield."
"Aegis."
Salomon's eyes narrowed slightly.
He knew that name.
Anyone who had studied Greek myth did.
When Athena pulled away the covering—
He instinctively shut his eyes.
The legend was too well-known.
The Gorgon's head.
One look—
And you turned to stone.
Even monsters weren't immune.
"Relax," Athena said lightly. "You're not a mortal. It only works if you allow it to."
Slowly, carefully, Salomon opened his eyes.
The shield was bronze, with a faint golden sheen. Its surface was marked by four diamond-shaped patterns. At its center—
A sculpted head.
Snakes for hair.
Eyes closed.
Frozen in a silent scream.
It didn't move.
Didn't need to.
"This isn't just a shield," Athena said. "It's armor."
She smiled.
"And a gift."
Salomon froze.
That word—
Carried a very different weight now.
Athena's reasoning was simple.
If Salomon carried her shield into battle, people would notice.
They would talk.
And when they saw enemies turned to stone—
They would remember her.
Her name.
Her influence.
It was a perfect arrangement.
Subtle.
Effective.
And well within the boundaries the Ancient One allowed.
Kamar-Taj needed strength.
That much was obvious.
Mordo had his flaws.
Kaecilius had his own.
And the next Sorcerer Supreme—
Wouldn't be ready in time.
So Salomon had to grow.
Fast.
—
By the time he left, he had gained two things.
Pegasus.
And Aegis.
Two artifacts that dramatically increased his survivability.
At his current level, that mattered more than anything else.
But there was a condition.
He would have to visit Athena regularly.
At least once a month.
She had taken an interest in him.
And Athena—
Didn't lose interest easily.
In her mind, a hero needed discipline.
Focus.
Control.
Especially in the face of temptation.
She intended to train him in that.
Along with a proper appreciation for art.
Because, in her opinion—
Kamar-Taj had none.
—
Salomon stepped out into the street.
Still processing everything.
"This is unavoidable," he muttered under his breath.
Then, after a brief pause—
"…But seriously."
He exhaled slowly.
"That was way too much."