A Satire-Original Writing

A warm, dry wind swept across the terrace where Adelmar stood, gazing out across the city of Bahnir. The quiet, spring night was lazily beginning to bloom. Torches and fire-lit lamps were blazing to life among the buildings below, and along the distant wall of the city's perimeter. The farmland beyond was sinking silently into darkness. Bahnir was built in the shadow of a large bluff, which was the lone peak in an otherwise unblemished landscape. When the first exiles had woken in this land they had taken shelter in the caverns of the mountainside and simply never left. Over time, Bahnir had grown in stilted, lurid bursts, until it became the sprawling collection of humanity that Adelmar was presently overlooking. He often found standing

Each one one of them wearing a look of bottled jubilation, and dressed in flowing, multicolored robes, which stood out against the dour slate walls of the large room they occupied. Dusk lurked in through rows of thin, slit windows in the otherwise unadorned space. Eidon immediately closed his eyes again and let the seconds wash over him with the dusty shafts of light, willing himself to sink backward in time. Whatever this was, whoever these people were, Eidon wasn't ready to confront them. Time hadn't ever been a factor for Eidon, until now. Day after blissful day had rolled by and he had felt want nor need of anything. He lived contented in the simple presence of his family, and of the Father, with whom Eidon knew he would one day be reunited. Now look where he was. He had been in this place for hours, mere moments, perhaps, and already the burden of time was bearing down on him. “Um, hello...” came the tentative female voice of one of the colorfully-clad members of the crowd beyond Eidon's closed lids. “My name is Maude. You are in the Temple of the Penitent, in the city of Bahnir. I expect that won't make any sense to you, but we just thought you might like to get your