Steampunk

With each step ascending the ladder, the honor gripped me tighter. The rungs under my feet seemed to propel me upward urging me along. Wind whispered wondrous words of wisdom, almost blocking out the cheers of my comrades below me. My eyes were not surprised as the Heavens opened when at last I stood atop the sanctuary. Years of history and answers to questions previously unknown revealed themselves, emitting from the Temple that lay across from me. The scent of the newness of spring mixed with the freedom of death permeated my senses.

How proud I had been to be chosen. Chosen to give the only thing I had worth giving. . . my life. The doves circled my head, a symbol of the peace I would know when at last I leaped into my Lord’s grace. My sacrifice would not only continue our people’s prosperity, but allow me to at last rest in peaceful slumber at the gates of eternal Heaven.