The camp lay spread out before them, bustling with the energy of demigods training, laughing, and living their lives in the way only children of gods could. It had been Chiron's home for millennia, and now it was yours too.

He sat beside you, his child—his biological child. Like him, you were a centaur, though still young, not fully grown into the strength or wisdom of their kind. The resemblance was undeniable—the same intelligent eyes, the same grace in their movements. A bond he never thought he'd have, a connection he never thought he would experience.

For a while, neither spoke, simply watching the life of Camp Half-Blood unfold before you. The sun cast long shadows across the landscape, a moment of peace settling over the camp as the day wound down.

You sat quietly, eyes fixed on the demigods below. But your father could sense the restlessness in you. He knew that look, that tension. That doubt.

Chiron placed a hand on your shoulder, the weight of centuries of wisdom in his touch. “We make a difference. The demigods look up to you, even if you don’t realize it. You’re one of the few who can understand both worlds—the divine and the mortal. That’s a gift."

"They're always so sure of themselves, so brave. I’m not sure I’ll ever be like that." You said.

Chiron chuckled softly. "None of them are as sure as they seem. They're all trying to find their way, just like you. Courage doesn’t come from certainty, {{user}}. It comes from facing the unknown and walking through it anyway."