A/N: Thanks for the all the support.

It's amazing that we've come so far. Only 13 chapters to go. Thank you again for sticking with the story.

Here's the continuation to Damian and Chloe's story.

Disclaimer: I do not own Percy Jackson or its characters. All rights go to Rick Riordan.

Chapter 33

A Light Preserved

Damian

Blinding, blistering agony. That was all there was. The pain in his leg shadowed by the attack on his mind. And even that, trumped entirely by the miserable revelation that he had brought this torment upon Chloe as well.

Damian had failed. Failed to protect the one thing dearest to him. Failed to uphold the promise he had made a long time before he'd proposed. That he'd die before he let her see harm.

And if that wasn't bad enough, he had failed his people and those of Thebes. So much blood spilt for nothing. A hollow victory-

No. Not yet. If he could accomplish this one last thing. Defend his mind and his city's secrets. Then perhaps his death would not be in vain. But then again, if he were to hold out, it would mean Chloe was next. And that…

An impossible choice. Damian knew what Chloe would want, what she would expect from him. No, to even entertain either scenario would mean giving up. There was always another way. He would turn his mind into an inhabitable fortress if he had to and use it to launch a counter-attack. Then once free of this bastard's grasp, Damian would rip him to shreds for even daring to lay a finger on Chloe.

With that silent declaration came a pulling sensation. A tugging of heart and mind. Damian let his walls fall, and through it came the enemy. A scream as silent as his declaration.

Your first mistake was killing those soldiers.

A flash of Lysandra's warm but over-eager smile. Larissa beside her.

Your second, threatening my home and my people.

Your final one was touching her.

An image of Chloe, her delicate features contorted in pain, blood leaking from the side of her head.

And now, after all that. You dare delve into my mind.

Of course I do, the man's voice a low growl. Foreign invasion rumbling through him. I am a Titan whilst you are only half god.

You think you know pain. You don't. You think your immortality makes you untouchable. It doesn't. In here, it is I who is god.

Damian reached inward, drawing from deep within his swirling mess of memories. There was a time where his mind had been orderly, where memories of old and memories better left alone were locked away. But with this pain came only chaos-

Dorian, his figure standing over him as blood ran down his back. That poisoned arrow gleaming in the moonlight. Theron, limbs flailing hopelessly as the creatures fed off his gaping chest. Lilly and Thaddeus, holding him back as he cried.

Then came a memory so deeply buried that Damian had almost forgotten it was real. A blurry haze that day he'd lost his world. The faintest shade of his mother. A smile lost and another adrift. One parent lost but somehow two.

Never again.

This world he'd protect. Chloe, Annabeth—their smile's he'd protect.

That newfound hope lit a beacon within him. A clarity settling over the haze. It was Dorian, a toddler in his arms. A toddler that could have only been him. Little Damian was screaming for his mother all the while sending a flurry of feather-light blows upon Dorian's chest. His mentor's smile, pained like it always was.

"Don't cry, little one. You may not see her again, but your mother lives with you. Always watching she will be. Do not frighten her with weakness. Show only strength so that she can be at peace."

Only strength, Damian echoed and so ended his assault. If only he had the strength for more.

Triptolemus

Triptolemus reeled away from the boy. His mind crackling with energy. Mynesmone had channeled everything she had and still they had not succeeded. It was his fault, not hers. It was his weakness that prevented her victory.

But what else could he have done but retreat. He'd seen too much. And the truth was that it hurt. Not just physically, but also a warped sort of guilt. Perhaps even respect. That journey into the boy's mind, a reflection of his own. Triptolemus knew what it felt like to be separated from his mother. Yet somehow, this boy's pain had seemed…

Realer in a sense. Was it due to the fact that his separation was not to be permanent? Or was it because Damian's mother had died for a cause while he himself had died for nothing but bigoted spite? And if not those reasons, then what? The fact that being the one that lived while your mother died seemed infinitely worse than the reverse.

Oh Chaos above. What had he become?

His father, the only answer that came to mind.

Wasn't he following in that bastard's footsteps? Killing the offspring of the gods just for the fear of what they may do and not for the actions they had taken. The irony did not escape him—that in his hand was the same weapon his father bore.

Yet it was the bitterness that came with the memory of his defeat that steeled his wavering resolve. The Primordials had never cared for him. Hell, they had disregarded his very existence until the point they decided to have him killed. It was his time now. His reckoning. The gods, old and new, owed him it. A chance not to be judged as he righted every wrong.

But, even then, Triptolemus found it hard to feel any contempt towards the demigods before him. Respect was the word that cropped up again. Unlike him, the two of them had not faltered for even a second, not even when he had offered them a painless alternative. Give up Hemitheopolis's location and the secret to its defenses.

The glares he had received in return for his request, unflinching to say the least. It had been a mistake; revealing his intentions. Somehow, the boy had wielded the knowledge against him and guarded the information through sheer strength of will. A concentrated blade of pain thrown his way and even now, lingering uncomfortably in his mind.

Mynesmone had explained that the more personal the memory, the harder it was to read. How had the boy known to protect his memories in that way?

Why did it matter anyway? If not the boy, then the girl it shall be.

She would have to be easier to break. After all, she had watched her lover endure hours of pain. Cruel, perhaps. But cruelty always worked. It had a way with compromising an individual's ideals. Triptolemus would deal the hand he was dealt and do so without remorse. If that was what it took to avenge his mother, then so be it.

Chloe

It was minutes of screaming and crying and flailing. Then silence as she realised the futility of her attempts. Escape was no longer an option—rescue, perhaps. Also futile. There was no one with the capability to defeat this enemy. And even if there were, what would it cost?

No, all that was left now was the here and now. This was how their story would end. They would go out having known that at least they'd kept Hemitheopolis safe. She only wished it had been less agonizing of a goodbye. That they'd be given a chance to die in each other's arms rather than chained across from one another.

All Chloe could do now was hold Damian's gaze through the hours of torture. It was the hardest thing she had ever done. Watching the pain that rippled through his glazed eyes, the convulsions, the throes of suffering.

She would have done anything to be able to break through to him and let him know she was there, even if just for a heartbeat. After hours more, the titan pulled away and revealed the long-hidden and startling clarity of Damian's eyes. For his sake, she managed a smile.

"Chloe," he gasped, tears streaming down his face. "I'm sorry."

The titan got in between them, his girth enough to conceal her view of Damian. He approached. Achingly slow strides that left a shuddering sort of numbness in their wake.

"No!" Damian screamed. "Not her! I'll kill you!"

The titan turned, gaze sweeping tauntingly between them both. "Why fear? Was it not you who claimed to be a god in your mind? Surely then it'll be safer for her if I were to enter hers? What say you, oh fiery one."

She met the titan's stare, eyes flicking to Damian long enough to make her peace.

"Damian, it's alright. I love you."

When the pain came, there was no fear, only relief. For if it were she who was being tortured, it would mean Damian wasn't. And that was enough.

Triptolemus

Triptolemus had considered leveraging one life for the information. But a part of him was sure they would not yield. That they would hold each other accountable till one of them drew their final breath. And for the heavy price of one well of information, what would he have gained?

Nothing. The survivor would surely go mad from the loss of the other. A broken mind was useless to Mynesmone. And a broken heart could easily lead to one.

The girl was somehow even harder to break through. She had a strength that did not at all match her stature. A fiery defiance like no other. Hours of mental sparring, and still all he received were glimpses of himself.

That one particular image of him drenched in the blood of the Theban soldiers he had slaughtered. She wielded it like a weapon and with it a repeating vow.

I'll kill you.

Damian

How long had it been? How long in this never-ending but not quite endless nightmare? His only respite, Chloe. Fleeting moments of hope sprinkled in and amongst the despondency. Those moments where they found each other through all the pain and waited till the other went under.

Their enemy was foolish for this whole charade. If he had tortured only one of them, perhaps they would have broken. But having to watch as the other…

It was the same torture but thousand-fold. And that made the actual torture relief.

So endless it would be. For both Chloe and him had decided then and there that neither would succumb. Speaking of her, she was faring better than he was. Damian was not at all surprised. That was the thing about her. She may worry more than most, but when push came to shove, when she was most needed, that was when she revealed her true self. The bastion of strength she was.

But bastions were not infallible. That Damian knew. Hemitheopolis was once a city thought invincible. Dorian, a man equally so. Larissa, too.

The time would come where Chloe's will would crumble. That time was soon. And the thought brought his heart crumbling along with it.

Chloe began to convulse so violently that she pulled her chains free from the board that held it. The titan was quick to pin her down, knees over her legs and hands wrapping around the sides of her head.

Chloe's shrieks of pain filling his bleeding ears. Damian had never felt such anger. The heat within his chest, as if the sun itself had found its way into him.

Damian had failed twice before. With Theron and with Dorian. But never again and especially not her. Not this flower that had bloomed into his life. Anyone but her. Her light he would preserve. He had to-

The world exploded in a brilliant flash. More precisely, he had exploded. The heat had come from within, Damian was sure of it. So intense was this explosion, that the world burned white for a moment. When Damian's vision returned, the warrior had let go of Chloe and turned his way.

It was the slightest of instinctive movements to reach for Chloe that made him realise the rope that bound him was no more.

"You-" the titan started.

The heat in Damian's chest lurched forward, and then there was a beam of light searing forth from his palms and into the titan. It sent the enemy flying across the valley.

"Damian," Chloe sputtered, mouth full of blood. She spat it out and struggled to rise to her feet. "How-"

Damian rushed to her side and gently propped her on her feet. "I have no idea. But we need to run now."

Chloe though was glancing downward wearily. "Your leg."

Shit.

The adrenaline and thought of potential escape had got him this far. But now, a rapid hobble was the best he'd manage. And that would never be enough to outrun a titan.

"Don't worry," said Chloe. "Just hold him off for a minute or two."

Damian nodded, turning to face the direction in which he'd sent the titan flying. He had already risen to his feet, disheveled but unscathed. Damian fired another blast of light. This time the warrior raised his blade in attempt to block it.

When the light cleared, the warrior was standing unfazed. Two long lines of trudged up earth before him. At the very least, the impact had pushed him back a couple of feet.

It would have to do.

Damian raised his palms again, another beam zipping through the air. This one was blocked with relative ease. Was he getting weaker? Or was it his opponent that had adapted?

But there, whizzing behind the titan were two green blurs.

Chloe's chakrams. It seemed; she too had learnt new powers.

The titan bellowed in rage as the chakrams cut two deep slices across his back. It was safe to say that he had not seen that one coming. Chloe caught the returning chakrams with ease, smiling softly as the weapons touched her skin. Damian knew they meant a lot to her. A gift from her mother, handed to her by her father the day she had left for Hemitheopolis.

"Keep still," she instructed, kneeling next to him, head bent over his foot. Within seconds, she was back to her feet and giving him a quick peck on the lips. "Now, we run."

Damian stole a quick glance down. Around his leg a splint made of vines. Vines that had recently made up her chakrams.

"You're remarkable," smiled Damian, testing his leg. It still hurt like hell, but at least it did not buckle beneath his weight. Chloe slid an arm around his waist to support him, but he removed it.

"I'll manage. Just run and don't look back."

And that was exactly what they did. A mad sprint for salvation. Why mad? For it was aimless and desperate. They had been transported far enough from the battle that Damian did not recognize his surroundings. No signs of the mountain peaks, or the spire of Thebes. Not even the walls of Megara or Corinth. They were stuck in some desolate land with no inkling of the direction they needed to travel in. But that didn't stop them, the more distance they put between themselves and the titan, the better.

They were silent as they ran; preserving their energy—what was left of it, at least. But it would never be enough. Even now, they could hear the warrior's voice booming through the air, roaring instructions to recapture them.

One glimpse over his shoulder was enough to confirm his worst fears. A hundred feet behind them appeared all manners of creatures. Ugly blots upon a botched painting. They spilled forth from the horizon, having crested the hill that Damian and Chloe had so unceremoniously stumbled down only moments ago.

Their head start had been diminished and there was only one reason for it.

"Chloe," breathed Damian, steeling himself for the backlash that was to come. "Go on without me. I'll hold-"

"Don't you dare think it," she challenged, her arm locking around his.

"There's no time to argue."

"I-"

"Chloe," he begged. "Please."

"You promised," her eyes were swollen, he could tell. She must have known this was coming. "You promised to never leave me."

And it was that delicate wavering of her voice that sent his heart shattering into a million pieces.

"Hey," he spoke in the gentlest tone he could muster over all his ragged breathing. "It's only temporary. This is not goodbye. He won't kill me. Not until he gets what he wants. And nothing will break me if I know that you are safe. Just think of it as a 'see you later'."

He added a smile for good measure.

"I could hold them off instead."

"Then what, Chloe. I know you're capable. But my legs will give way before I make it home. You know it to be true. You tried your best and I love you for it. But now you have to go. This is not about us anymore. I wish it were. I wish every moment was just about you. But he has threatened our home. And if you don't make it back to Hemitheopolis to warn them. Then gods help us all."

She stopped and held his gaze, so close that their breaths were mingling. "I love you."

Damian answered her declaration with a kiss on the forehead. He peeled her hands off him, cupped them in his and took one good look at her. She who had shaped his life into something beautiful. Something worth living for. Something worth dying for.

"Stay safe, please."

"I will," he whispered while nudging her forward.

And yes I know. When will the cruel chapter endings end?

Not anytime soon

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