A Bridge to Tomorrow

Herald stood at the ravine's edge, silhouetted against the bleeding sky, watching his charges embark across the ancient bridge. Three women crossed, each carrying seedlings of extinct crops in their worn pouches, remnants of a drowned world.

"It's fine, see?" Herald said, stomping a foot down on the rusted planks to prove that it endured even if it wasn't beautiful. This caused all three to crouch low, gripping the oxidized ropes with white-knuckled terror, one even relieving the contents of her stomach into the void below.

Herald had been part of the Guild of Bridge Builders, maintaining this last link between surviving lands. After the collapse of '63, where they had lost over half their numbers, his role as a Builder had become more ceremonial. Hard to belong to a guild that didn't exist anymore.

Nevertheless, he persisted. Just as the rust that seeped from every crack in this cursed stone did, it could rot and erode the supports as much as it wanted; Herald wouldn't allow the connection to be severed. He had repaired it more times than he could count with less-than-ideal materials. He had repaired it even after his son Auryn had lost his life, falling while trying to shore up the buttresses that held the rope supports. The boy had followed in his father's footsteps, determined to keep humanity connected. Herald wiped away a tear and pushed onwards.

The corrosion that bled through the stone slowly consumed everything - the ancient cliff faces, the hollow-eyed people, the crumbling edifices, and all hopes for gentler days. But not Herald's determination. Not while he could still guide others across, not while there were still seeds of hope in those precious pouches.

Herald prepared to part ways with the women on the far side as they reached firm ground again, avoiding all the weak planks he had pointed out. They offered him payment, but Herald shook his head. "What you carry is worth more than copper," he said, gesturing toward the narrow ledge which promised solid earth below.

"Just skirt down there, and whatever you do - don't look down."

They stared back at him, eyes darting between his weathered face and their destination—a promise of tomorrow. But despite their trepidation, they moved forward, just as humanity always did, just as Herald would continue to do until either the bridge or he finally surrendered to time.