They had also claimed that this was the God's way of honouring Robert for overthrowing the tyrannical Targaryens.
…
How much of this was their own words and how much was due to Tytan's mother Cersei forcing them to say this was debatable. But either way the uneducated masses lapped up the Maesters words.
So yeah, if he was honest with himself Tytan couldn't be happier to have been reborn into this world, it certainly beat traverse the hellish landscape of Tartarus for an eternity.
That being said, a part of him still missed the people he had known before his torment in Tartarus, his mother Sally, his partner Annabeth, all his friends at Camp Half-Blood and Camp Jupiter, but he had long ago come to terms with never seeing them again.
This was something he had come to terms with years before he had taken the leap, the relative isolation of Tartarus did give a person a lot of free time for self-examination after all.
Despite that though he was still happier to be here in Westeros, breathing fresh air, drinking clean water and not spending his every living moment in torment.
This situation was made better by the fact that he had apparently been born the prince of a medieval like kingdom, or to be more exact a Crown Prince of Seven Kingdoms.
Again Tytan wasn't complaining, even if he did now have to go by the name Tytan. In a hard and unforgiving world like the one he had now been born into, he had been born into a royal family.
The first legitimately born son of a King. He had been given everything he could have asked for, he wasn't about to turn his nose up at such a blessing and an opportunity
And opportunity it had been as whilst he was still a young child, his adult mind had allowed him to progress far faster than normal children.
Allowing him to walk and talk far faster than many thought possible giving further weight to his ironic 'Blessed by the Gods' status.
Suffice to say his unnatural intelligence for his age and later his supernatural abilities had soon garnered him a lot of attention form Nobles and Maesters alike, and at Tytan's request he was soon being taught about Westeros including its history, its language, its geography and its religions.
It had all been very useful and Tytan had rapidly soaked up the knowledge, or at least he had as far as the continents history, geography and culture was concerned.
The language, well that had been a lot more tricky, as it appeared that alongside his Demigod abilities he had also retained his ADHD and Dyslexia, not that any of the Maesters knew what these were. And unlike his abilities these traits were not lessened at all.
Luckily though his beloved mother had had an inkling, as apparently Tytan's uncle Jamie had had a similar affliction.
One which he had been cured of by being forced day after day by his father, Tywin, to learn his letters until he had.
Unfortunately his mother Cersei had taken that as a challenge and had personally sat the young Tytan down and force him to learn how to read and write.
Day after day she had forced him to learn, his mother drinking her wine and conducting her business whilst Tytan was sat at a desk working.
That had been the first time that Tytan had resented his lot life, even if it had only been for a moment before reality had set in and he had realised what a little shit he was being.
That had been painfully embarrassing. Fortunately though he had prevailed and after a few months he had begun to make progress and eventually he had learned how to read and write in Westerosai.
The years that followed this had been quite pleasant for Tytan, being born into privilege like he was meant that he had had time to spare plus the wealth to have tutors in anything he had an interest in.
Which for Tytan meant he had had the Kingdom's best warrior, Barristan Selmy teaching him to fight, or re-teaching him.
Which for Tytan who retained all his old memories meant it was like a walk in the park, a prodigy was what they called him.
After all, all he had needed to do was rebuild his muscle memory plus adapt his style to suit that of a Westerosai sword as oppose to Anaklumous.
Of course initially he had contemplated having a replica of Anaklumous made as he knew the sword better than anything, unfortunately though he didn't have the first clue about forging.
The Children of Hephaestus having been the ones who forged and maintained the majority of his equipment.
Plus he hadn't even tried in the end as he knew no replica could ever replace his blade, it would feel like nothing more than a hollow shell.
As the years continued to pass and Tytan became older and began gaining more responsibilities and gaining more freedom and independence, he began to gain something of a reputation.
A reputation that only increased after he had begun talking part in tournaments at the age of sixteen, winning the joust and the melee several times over the past year and gaining himself a reputation as an exemplary warrior.
That's not to say that his reputation was all that golden, despite the prestige he had been born into, his martial abilities and the Demigod powers he retained.
After all… after having spent however long in Tartarus, living in constant misery and discomfort, Tytan had, when he had become old enough, engaged in every vice he could.
From the age of twelve onwards he had drunk excessively, drinking fine wines and ales almost as much as his father.
On top of that he had begun to delve into the pleasures of the flesh, bedding anything he could as he allowed himself to be consumed by his vices.
For Tytan these pleasures has soothed the pain of his past miseries in Tartarus.