Percy Jackson
The time passed quickly, and it had felt like only an hour before they stopped to rest, although it had been nearly four. They had traveled in mostly silence, with a couple hushed conversations that had died quickly and a half-hearted joke made by someone every fifteen or so minutes.
They followed the map north, allowing the plentiful streams to be their guide.
Once they had finished their two hour break, in which most of them slept, they stood up and trekked on, through the plain.
It was in the wane hours of the morning, as light was just beginning to illuminate the sky, that the break in the lush mountains was visible.
Percy's energy felt renewed with a clear goal in mind, and they reached the break just as the sun broke the horizon line.
The valley was just under about a mile long, which wasn't that far to walk considering the distance they'd covered. Beyond it, a barren plain lay, stark and lifeless, the land stained a dull beige. Percy assumed they hadn't called it the Iobystine Wasteland for nothing.
After a brief pause, though, they continued, watching as the mountains loomed on either side of them.
Although they weren't rocky and brisk, it didn't daunt their height.
The valley was scattered with patches of short grass, a sort of relief after striding through the waves of fields all night.
Soon, they reached the end of the break and stared out over an endless landscape, isolated from the diverse lands within the mountains. Scanning the area, they soon saw their target, and Percy gasped slightly. It was like everything he'd fought and more.
Miles down, but still visible in the flat land, was a legion of enemies, some of which he recognised from the Greek and Roman pantheons.
Judging from the looks of his friends from the other dimensions, it looked like they knew some of the enemies as well.
But he couldn't back down. He had to save Primordia, and that's what he had to do.
Setting his eyes, he pulled out Riptide and rushed towards the enemies, sensing the others following along behind him.