The City of Keahns

He had been about to give Madge a compliment about her name when he heard the knock at the door. "What is it?" he asked, walking behind her and trying to look over her shoulder when she promptly shut it in the face of a mesenger. Though he couldn't read it, Shadowsigh knew from how she had reacted to the words written on it that it must be something terrible or life-threatening. Suddenly wishing he was better at the language it was written in, he sighed, waiting for her to tell him about the scroll.
 
She paused before answering. "Father went to the king with the compromise of the elven people... It was rejected. And now I'm in charge, because father won't be back until the end of the war." She sighed. What would she do now?... She was given a name on the scroll of the person who she was to give the rejection letter to, and honestly she wasn't sure if she wanted to. What was she supposed to do as the head of the city?... Sigh.
 
His eyebrows furrowing in confusion, Shadowsigh asked, "What are you going to do?" He tensed, waiting to see if she would be just like her father, who wouldn't hesitate to kill him if given the chance. Backing up a couple steps, he felt suddenly afraid of Madge, not sure what she would do. Instinctively reaching for his knife, which would normally be in its sheathe, and was angry and surprised when it wasn't there.
 
She bit her lip. "I don't know what I'll do. I was taught how imperialism worked, and how it can be justified. But being a part of it, I see how my teachers- and my father- were wrong.." She paused, before walking to the living room and grabbing a book, an ink bottle, and a pen with a silver tip. Sitting on the floor in front of her coffee table, she quickly wrote a letter to the man who spoke with her father earlier. A personal one.
 
"What are you writing?" Shadowsigh asked as he followed her to the living room, looking at what she was writing. His tribe didn't have any form of writing, instead passing on their history and traditions by voice. If something--a disease or war--killed most of the tribe, the survivors were expected to spread everything to their children. Shadowsigh had once been hoping to one day have the chance to tell his own children, whenever he decided to have them, about the tribe. In his tribe, it was something every male wished to do, and Shadowsigh was no exception. Except now, he couldn't imagine himself having children, a thought that made him slightly scared. He would never pierce his child's ear with a wolf pup's claw, he would never give them their first tattoos on their shoulder...Biting his lip, he forced himself to return to reality and look at Madge.
 
Madge sighed softly. "I'm writing an apology letter to whoever spoke to my father earlier the other day. It pretty much says I'm sorry your request got rejected, and if there's anything I can do, let me know..." He finished the letter and grabbed a ink stamp from the side of her desk and dipped ink on it, spreading it out, then pressing it down on the corner of the letter. She folded it, neatly creasing the paper. "I really don't know what to do, Shadowsigh..."
 
"You said you are apologizing...what will happen to the city elves, then? Will they be treated as your father wishes them to be?" Shadowsigh asked, frowning. He sighed softly, wishing he knew of a better way to make everything better. Kheans' lord wouldn't like having his request denied...It wasn't fair, that the humans would be able to do what they wished to the elves. Shaking his head disappointingly, wondering how it was that the races of the continent had become so stupid. "It...will be fine...somehow," he finally said, murmuring the words quietly.
 
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