The battlefield was a mess. Demigods were falling everywhere, dying. His foster siblings, his cousins, his family were falling like flies. He wasn't quite sure what he was seeing; so much chaos around him.
Sweat was washing his pink, cheeky face. Training at camp hadn't prepared him for this. It was't anything like training: they were safe in capture the flag, the arena was for saps compared to this.
Help me immortal one…
An arrow flew past him, grazing his shoulder.
Protect me from this treacherous world that haunts me…
Suddenly, as if it was waiting for the worst possible moment, he flashed back. The Battle of the Labyrinth. He saw his brother dying by the sword he was expected to live by. The funeral pyre, one of many that evening, burning the cold body of the other teenager. The other half of him.
Suddenly, he found himself praying. He was never sure if his father really cared. Yes, he claimed with his brother immediately after arriving at camp for their first summer. He wasn't sure if it was just to prove that Mr. D also had a legacy. The god's gruff exterior never wavered to his sons faces.
Save me eternal one…
Pollux had never feared death before, or at least his own. Of course he had worried about his brother, his other half, and the mother they left sitting alone with her drink every time they left, so fragile in her full mortality, but he had never thought of himself dying before.
Deliver me from this hell I've created for myself…
He wanted out. Out of the fear, the pain, the chaos. Mostly for the battle to end. Holding the to fresh memory of his dead brother, who had taken one part of his soul with him to the land beyond the living, he silently prayed to his father for escape.
He never knew that it was his father, talking through the Hero of Olympus, that told him to stay from the final arc of the battle. The god would protect him, never let him go.
Save me, all mighty lord, from the anger and fear that is trying to inhibit me.