[center][h1][color=#EEE8AA]Ezekiel Kel[/color][/h1] [img]https://i.gifer.com/I9Me.gif[/img] [I][color=#EEE8AA]Location: Medical Tent near the Training Grounds -- Camp Half-Blood[/color] [/I][/center] [hr][hr] What a long ass day this was already turning out to be. Ezekiel had pulled on his headphones over an hour ago now. As usual, training started bright and early at Camp Half-Blood. Even though summer camp officially started just a few days ago. With all the new kids it seemed Ezekiel hadn’t stopped healing all the young idiots. Honestly, he wasn’t this bad when he first got here… Right? Ya, no, he was good. He smirked as memories from his first couple of weeks flooded his head. There were some of the hardest lessons of his life and he had to grow up quickly. They all did. He used his shoulder to wipe the sweat from his forehead as he worked on stitching up one of those new kids. He got a wicked slash to the leg the other day and waited nearly twenty-four hours before coming to one of the tents they had set up by the training grounds. Easy access rather than trekking all the way to the Big Blue House. The dumb kid’s leg was already infected, it took a fair amount of time to clean and repair the wound before Ezekiel could get to this point. Sure, he could have healed it completely, not leaving a scar but where would the lesson be? The scar would be a reminder to the dumbass to not be dumb. After the kid was stitched up, he gave the kid some Nectar, smiling and nodding at him that he could go. Once the kid left, no longer limping, he collapsed into one of those camp folding chairs. He grabbed his water and drained the whole thing before shutting his eyes for a few minutes. Despite his inner commentary, Ezekiel loved his job. Loved the healing he could do thanks to his father Apollo. He had found his calling here and rose to every challenge that was presented to him. He lived for it. As Ezekiel dozed in and out he thought of the recent prophecy. Rosie, the all knowing, always had interesting ones for the campers here. He wondered if there was some selection process. He pictured the Gods on Olympus, sitting at a round table picking out random pieces of paper, making little airplanes and sending them around the world to specific people. He snorted. Ya right. "Upon the day a child is born after a great battle…” [i]What defines a great battle, really?[/i] “A world of darkness shall bring all of the gods to their knees….” [i]Seriously? They have night lights on Amazon…[/i] “An act shall bring the rise of four empires together…” [i]Four empires? Well at least this bit was intriguing.[/i] “And a random act shall usher forth the restoration of balance, or destroy it all.” [i]A random act of kindness perhaps? Tough luck.[/i] Honestly, he hardly payed attention to it. He would never be selected. No, that ‘honor’ went to one of the kids of the big three. It was utterly pathetic. The rest would never have a chance to prove themselves. Ezekiel worked on kid after kid who tried proving themselves to the children of the big three and got their demigod asses handed to them. Every. Single. Time. What was the honest to goodness point?