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My lungs burned. Oh, how they burned, but I kept putting one foot ahead of the next. I forced myself forward, step by step, as the winds buffeted me. Onwards and upwards the stair went, and I began to wonder just what I would find.
I stopped for rest, for meals, for ... less conversational needs. The path before was was arrow straight and always climbing into the sky. After a day I was breathing hard amid the clouds; I could almost imagine that I was flying. After two days I was gasping for air, slowed to a figurative crawl by the environment and my body's inability to adapt. On the third day I was literally crawling; forcing myself ever onward, hand over hand. Each stair bringing me closer to the top. Each stair taking me farther from the earth below and the ruin there.
I put my hand blindly before me and instead of another stair it found nothing. I raised tiredly my head, the stairs had ended. I pulled myself up until I could see forward. Before me a long walkway led to still more stairs and finally a great structure. I heaved a ragged breath and redoubled my efforts to move forward.
The structure was a great gate, and beyond that was ... Was nothing. Open air, and a precipitous fall to the clouds and the world below. It was true, Elanetar had fallen. The gods were gone. I rolled to my back right there in the gate and stared at the dark blue sky above. I felt the last shattered remnants of my hope crumble away as I wept for the world in that cold thin air.
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