Nature's Innocence
"Hah! I've bested you again, Dionysus!" Chiron slapped his cards on the table in front of the man across from him. He leaned back against his wheelchair smugly.
The bad-tempered wine god scowled as he took in Chiron's cards. "Mount Olympus," he grumbled. "How in the name of myself is that possible?"
"Dionysus, I've been teaching princes for thousands of years!" said Chiron, grinning. "I've lived longer than even you."
"Don't go there." Dionysus' scowl deepened, and he shoved his chair away from the table so that he could stomp off the Big House's porch.
"Touchy about his age, isn't he?" Chiron mused aloud to no one but the breeze. He turned his wheelchair to the splendid sunset before him, his eyes half-closed pleasently. He watched the campers on their winged Pegasi dart through the clouds, crying gleefully to each other. Chiron was glad that the gods had rehired him as the camp's activities director.
As Chiron was about to slip into a doze, Charles Beckendorf of the Hephaestus cabin strode up with a small boy tucked safely underneath his strong arm.
"Chiron," the young smith called. "We've got a new camper!"
Chiron straightened, pulling himself out of his wheelchair and false legs. He watched carefully as the boy's eyes lit up in fear and shock.
"W-What are you?!" he cried, hiding behind Beckendorf's back.
"So now that I've told you I'm your big brother you're gonna be doin' that?" laughed Beckendorf. He gently pried the child's hands away from him and pushed him towards the porch.
Chiron grinned and swept his arms about him, gesturing to the forest and cabins and meadows and yards before them.
"Welcome to Camp Half-Blood, young demigod!"
After some gentle coaxing and Chiron putting his legs back on, the child followed him cautiously into the Big House and they sat down in front of the fire. The little boy seemed to relax a bit beside the fire. Chiron smiled softly.
"I suppose you're finding all this hard to take in?" he asked.
The child nodded vigorously, but he seemed to be quivering.
Chiron nodded, too, slow and understanding. "Yes," he said. "That mostly happens to new campers such as yourself. Growing up in the mortal world, and all of a sudden being told you're half Greek god and all the myths and tales are matter-of-factly real." Chiron jumped suddenly. So did the little boy. "Oh! I apologize. My name is Chiron, and I am Camp Half-Blood's activities director."
"I'm Link Demerri." Link's voice was small. "My dad's Heffastes."
"Hephaestus." Chiron chuckled.
"He-ph-ae-stus."
Chiron smiled, and continued, "Yes. Your father and his family are the mighty gods who reside at Mount Olympus, which happens to reside above the Empire State building. Or, at least, for now it does. Notable monuments from the ancient times tend to change with the times; stay modern, I suppose. Hephaestus is the god of smiths and fire, if you didn't know that already, Link. He's a very peacable god, which is more than I can say for the others. Reserved and quiet and tough-looking, but all-around a man you'd want to be on good terms with." Chiron paused. "Do you have any questions, Link?" He stared at him.
In response, Link yawned, stretching his arms and legs. Chiron gently helped the boy to his feet and carried him via horseback to the Hephaestus cabin. Chiron decided that that was all Link's brain could process for today.
As night descended upon Camp Half-Blood, a commotion aroused. The children of the war god Ares were immediately sought out, because whomever was attacking the Camp was strong enough to match the dragon guard. The Hermes cabin was emptied out, too, for their swift agility and pure cunning minds would do good for a skirmish. Chiron awoke, of course, and he decided he'd watch from a distance. A border fight would be a good chance to gauge his pupils' reactions in a real battle.
But as Chiron galloped behind the excited campers, he stopped suddenly, and he looked like he had tripped. The thing was, Chiron never tripped. He was too noble to just randomly trip on something. But no one took any notice; the rush of battle was fueling their minds. Chiron balanced himself quickly. He looked about wildly, his chocolate-brown eyes bright in panic. He pawed the ground with a front hoof.
"No...It can't be...The satyrs...they can not know about this...Can it be let into camp?" he muttered, staring at the pine tree that marked Camp Half-Blood's magical borders.
Suddenly, an animal's roar ripped through the velvet quiet of the night. Chiron jumped.
"I guess it really is his," he whispered as he set off at a sprint.
The fight was already started, but who was being fought? Chiron couldn't see through all the writhing bodies. Then the horrible animal scream erupted again. Some campers stumbled from shock or the incredible volume. A single arrow flashed through the air, its red paint standing out against the black sky. It moved so fast that it was only visible for a moment.
The scream was cut off.
"No!" Chiron found himself pushing his way through the mass of campers. His cry was lost in howls of triumph, most of which came from the Ares kids. He reached the edge of the crowd, finally at the source of this late-night war.
Lying flat on the ground upon her back, a girl laid. The brightly-painted red arrow pinned her to the grass, clean through her torso. Chiron recoiled at the sight of all that scarlet blood gushing out of her; rivers of maroon trailed down the hill, mucking up his hooves. Her tanned face was twisted into a defiant snarl, and pointed white teeth glinted slightly in the moonlight. Her ears flicked angrily from side-to-side, tall and tufted at the end like a lynx cat's. In fact, all of her anatomy resembled a cat's. The girl's lithe and wiry build, her wild amber eyes, she even had a tail! But, then again, her whole waist down was pure feline. Paws, claws, fur.
Chiron stared in total bewilderment. His mind whirled with mixtures of disbelief, joy, even fear. The question burned clear as day in his mind, but he dare not speak it, afraid that nymphs might hear. She confirmed his theory anyway.
"Let me go!" Her voice came as a true feral snarl. "I am the daughter of Pan!"
