Work Text:
The bridge from the Sahrian Union to the downside was a magnificent undertaking. To say it was awesome on the most literal of levels was not inaccurate. For eons after its construction pilgrims making trips down to the birthplace of their families or simply come to see it for themselves will wonder with amazement and fear how such a thing was ever constructed, how the twists of fate wove together to allow the undertaking to happen. It is with that knowledge that one can imagine the sheer awe with which the former exiles of the downside themselves must view the construction of soil and wood and steel and, doubtlessly, some considerable bit of magic.
---------------------------------
To say that the Curs of the former commonwealth, now Sahrian Union, were a tad bit shocked to meet Dalbert Oldheart is something of an abstraction. It was more accurate that many of them viewed him and his son as well as the rest of the Fate with a dim kind of curiosity typically reserved for antiques in museums. Some had only heard of such attire from gossip, wild and varied, about the former exiles, returned from an inescapable jail. Others looked upon them and saw history itself, many years hence, walking about as if to set down roots and flourish again.
Dalbert found in the curs of the Sahrian union, strangers where he had expected kin, but showed them all the same respect as he would any rival in the rites. Almer, however, went from being a determined, forward focused savage to a young man stalled with indecision and confusion. They were free at long last, but now he didn't have any goal to work towards. His life's purpose had been fulfilled. But here he was, still living that life, only now it was without direction. He ended up sticking close with the other members of the fate, unwilling, after all these years to abandon the blackwagon they had called their home for the hopeless strangeness of the union. He did eventually leave however, for the familiar and friendly face of the Vagabond Girl and despite the number of 8th Word disciples that now followed her like wayward puppies.
----------------------------------
Lendel the Liar they called him in the downside and not without some reason, if the tales Vispa and Darben, the other Accussers, spread were true. The more that the tales spread the more likely it seemed. One of his first actions upon return from Exil in the downside was to curse Ti'zo. Unfortunately for Lendel, Ti'zo had become a symbol of the revolution and the future-yet-to-come, more so than any crooked Commonwealth constable. And to say nothing more of Lendel is a kindness for all parties involved.
-------------------------
Humboldt Manley Tinderstauf enjoyed his bit of fame as the last leader of the Chastity before the construction of the Great Bridge. It was his ace in the hole for conversation with the elite of the Sahrian Union, at least it was until it became more apparent that the Elite of the Sahrian Union and the former elite of the commonwealth would most certainty not be made of the same people. The overthrow of the commonwealth meant a rapid shifting of virtues. Soon enough Manley's bragging became less of his leadership position and more of all the struggles they had to survive.
"Oh, good heavens," Manley sighs. His leaves rustle together as he shudders dramatically. "The weather was at once too hot and too cold. Indeed, staying in the Glade of Lu was the safest place for the Chastity, but the very air was stifling beyond measure and the knowledge that Lu Sclorian was holding down a still living titan under your very roots weighed heavily on the mind, as you may well imagine." On and on he goes, chattering about the unappetizing food, the turbulent waters and ill tempered rains, the Howlers and all the other triumvirates aside.
"Ah, yes! The Nightwings! Very brave opponents they were, and very determined, too. They didn't stop to chat much, so my distress. I suppose that they were very busy with their plans. Though, if they had let me in on it, I'm sure we could have been a great help." The entranced hangers on all nod that they too would have helped. And Pamitha, around the corner, listening intently, scoffs.
----------------------
\
To say that Tamitha is shocked to see her own sister waiting for her at the top of the Great Bridge is almost correct, but it doesn't convey the sheer overwhelming bitterness that wells up in her breast at the sight.
"You!" Tamitha screeches, talons raised as if to strike. Pamitha looks down the great slope of the bridge as calm as stone.
"Yes, me."
"Have you come to betray me again? Keep me from ever returning to the place you banished me from?" Tamitha's clipped wings flap, a shadow of what her wings could once do, a damning reminder of her long descent, courtesy of her treacherous sister. Pamitha's hat does not even sway atop her head and Tamitha cannot help but feel the enormity of the power she has lost.
"I've come to welcome you back, Tam."
"I'll burn your Commonwealth to the ground!" Pamitha cocks her head shrewdly.
"There is no more Commonwealth." Pamitha watches as her sister's wing-beats pick up in double time, attempting to blow her away, as if she was the only obstacle between them and their hated enemy.
"Liar!"
"No, Tam. The Commonwealth is gone. It's the Saharian Union now. There is nothing left to burn." Tamitha swoops into Pam's face, nose to nose and eyes alight. She looks deep and hard into the eyes of her most trusted betrayer and discounts what she sees there.
"We shall see, Pamitha Theyn."
Pamitha turns to watch her sister ascend the face of the Great Bridge, feeling the wind of many harps flying by her as they follow dutifully. Shikara spits at her as she passes overhead. Umani, simply snubs Pamitha. Too concerned with freedom to waste time showing her disdain. Pamitha does not take her eyes off of her sisters back, knowing that it may very well be the last time she sees her.
-------------------
The Dissidents hardly even bother sniffing in the direction of the Great Bridge.
"Who gives a piss if'n some mongrel's gone ahead and made a bridge. Just means we can come right back when you throw us down, yeah?"
Marla, Snarlo, and Charson all howl in agreement. Scarly's language is a bit more colorful but they all feel the same. Thusly, the Dissidents are unknown to the citizens of the Sahrian Union excepting in stories for the most part. Some, inspired by the stories take the Pilgrimage down to see them, and more often than not, they end up staying and throwing the Celestial Orb back and forth with the firebrands for the rest of their lives.
----------------------
Udmildhe vanishes, faith broken, into the Southern Bogs, where only a few of the wizened trees there match her in age, to continue her vile workings. Ya'ul and Pi'ad the imps that served her followed her upon her ascension, profaning the birth of the Sahrian Union with tidings of Y'slach. Many centuries pass without news of Udmilde. and the Union will never know her evil and corruption.
--------------------------
Ignarius returns home gleefully. He does not notice the way the jubilant streets around him silence as he makes his way down the streets, unerring in his approach. He reaches his hand out to the old wooden door only to stop. the familiar sight of home marred by his own body. By the Scribes! He must look a mess. His feet had grown hard and rough, his nails were claws, unfit to hold the hand of even the must scurrilous of wretches.He sighs deeply, feeling the bass rumble roll through him, hoof to horn. What was he thinking, how could he even imagine that he could so this? He closes his eyes and pulls his hand back. What was he thinking?
He is so lost in his own thoughts that he does not hear the door open. He does, however, hear the shriek of a woman.
His eyes snap open faster than an imp's wings. For the first time in ten years, he sees her. Her scar on her temple from when she got into a fight with a BogCrone and won. The missing pinky finger on her left hand, severed when a horse bit her. The gentle sloping brow that expressed so much genuine kindness and tender care, but was now expressing sheer terror.
He had come here foolishly but thought better of it only to have the stars themselves force his foolhardy desire into reality. And now, now he couldn't leave. He couldn't leave without trying at least once. What would Lady River say if he backed down now? Pfrumta would whisper condemnations into all her spells if he did not. He would not forgive himself. Shoring up his courage, he faced it like the flames of a rite.
"Moira....I.."
"......Ignarius?"
-------------------
The Pyrehearts only hear of the great bridge when a wyrm joins them, shamefacedly declaring himself too craven and useless to be anything but a Pyreheart.
"W-W-W-What?! How dare you?" Sir Deluge splutters, furiously, his single eyes nearly crushed shut under the furrow of his brow. And as he hears the happenings that brought the Sahrian Union into being, he shakes and boils with fury. Knowing that his already sour reputation has been soiled further.
He sulks all day and night until Lady Seagrass demands he assist in taking care of their children. At which point he displays the finer points of his battle strategy by performing his signature move: running away.
--------------------
The Sahrian Union raises them up as the Scribes Come Again. Their feats, their blessings and their virtues are sung of in years to come, scrawled into the very walls of the countryside for all to read, and read they do now that the ban is lifted. They read the stories the Nightwings leave behind. They read it in books and they read it in the faces and hearts of their fellow citizens. And, some claim to be able to read it in the very Stars. But that would be silly, why look to the Stars, when the Scribes are right there?