Love Against All Odds

Oskar - A Titan's Gift

From half a mile away, the white flag was impossible to miss. It unfurled in the hands of a thirty-foot behemoth with vibrant blue skin and hair as grey as ice.

"A Hyperborean," Zoe remarked. "Northern giants. Their allegiance to Kronos doesn't bode well. Normally, they're peaceful."

"You've encountered them before?" Percy inquired.

"Indeed. There's a sizable community in Alberta. Trust me, you don't want to engage in a snowball fight with them."

As the giant drew nearer, three figures of human stature accompanied him: a half-blood adorned in armour, an empousa demon with fiery locks and a dark dress, and a tall man dressed formally. The empousa clung to the arm of the suited man, giving them the appearance of a couple en route to a Broadway show, save for her flaming hair and protruding fangs.

They strolled casually toward the Heckscher Playground, the swings and courts deserted, with only the sound of the fountain on Umpire Rock breaking the silence.

I glanced at Grover. "The man in the tuxedo is the Titan, I assume?"

He nodded anxiously. "He seems more like a magician. I detest magicians. They usually have rabbits."

Percy raised an eyebrow. "You're afraid of rabbits?"

"Blah-hah-hah! They're notorious bullies, always pilfering celery from defenceless satyrs!"

Thalia cleared her throat.

"What?" Grover demanded.

"We'll address your bunny phobia later," Thalia said. "They're approaching."

The man in the tuxedo stepped forward, towering above the average human at about seven feet tall. His ebony hair was tied back, and dark circular glasses concealed his eyes. Yet, what truly captured my attention was the array of scratches covering his face, as if he had been attacked by a particularly enraged small creature—a ferocious hamster, perhaps.

"Percy Jackson," he greeted in a smooth voice. "It's a pleasure."

The empousa, his lady companion, hissed in my direction, likely aware of my encounters with two of her sisters last summer.

"My dear," the Titan addressed her. "Why don't you find yourself a comfortable spot over there?"

She relinquished her grip on his arm and drifted toward a park bench.

Glancing at the armoured demigod standing behind Titan, I hadn't initially recognized him with his new helmet. 

But upon closer inspection, I realized it was my old adversary, Ethan Nakamura. His nose bore the lasting evidence of Percy's altercation with him on the Williamsburg Bridge, which oddly lifted my spirits.

"Hey, Ethan," I greeted. "You're looking well."

Ethan shot me a venomous glare.

"Let's get down to business," the Titan extended his hand. "I am Prometheus."

"The fire-stealer? The one chained to the rock, tormented by vultures?" Percy said, obviously taken aback. 

Prometheus winced, his hand absently touching the scars on his face. "Please, spare me the mention of the vultures. But indeed, I am the one who stole fire from the gods and bestowed it upon your ancestors. In return, the gracious Zeus had me bound to a rock, subjected to eternal torment."

"But—"

"How did I escape? That was the doing of Hercules ages ago. Thus, I harbour a fondness for heroes. Some of you can be quite civilized."