The borders of Camp Half-Blood shimmered faintly in the late afternoon light, a subtle magic that kept the mortal world at bay. Standing just beyond the crest of Half-Blood Hill, Y/n could see the sprawling valley below: the cluster of cabins arranged around a central green, the glint of the lake, the climbing wall with its shifting lava flow, and the distant figures of other demigods moving about their day.

Beside her, Chiron waited patiently. His horse half was settled into a calm stance, and his human half regarded her with a warm, assessing gaze. He had asked for her name, her lineage, and whether she carried any belongings—standard questions for a new arrival. It was the lie she had prepared for, the one her father had helped craft.

A pair of campers passed near the bottom of the hill, pausing to look up at the newcomer. One of them shaded their eyes with a hand.