It was a year before her training was over. Let’s just call it a glow up. She never technically stopped training after that either, after all, Makoa often visited to make sure that she wasn’t out of shape.
By the time that Kelani was 16, they called on her again. The first time it was to see if she could travel to upstate to New York to kill a raging hell hound that was eating small children, cats and dogs. When she was 17 it was a Sphynx that was trapping children in the hedges in London parks. 18, an onii in Japan that was being mistaken for a serial killer. It was yearly at this point, it was like that family member who only called once a year to wish you a happy birthday and ask if you would mind lending them some money on the off chance.
“No. I’m out.”
She was sure they were listening.
Kelani had never once seen the Fates. They were just a voice she heard repeatedly. It was a scary voice too, the eerie kind that seemed to echo and rattle your head.
“I’m not doing it this year. Call someone else this time. I’m sick of your tasks. I’m going surfing this year, an entire tour through the islands. No one will bother me. No hell hounds, no sphinxes, no fucking demons, I am out. And no, you better as hell not sick some sea dragon on me for rejecting you.”
“Call up another demigod this time? Don’t you guys have another guy for this kind of bullshit? I’m sure there are plenty of others. I don’t even have the funding to take another flight across the world.”
Daughter of Pele, silence at once.
“Nah I’m good.” She shrugged, flopping onto the bed in the back of her van. “Actually, I’d like to hang up this time. Please get out of my head.”
Your impudence is frowned upon, child.
“Cry about it.”
