As she spoke to him, Saith could feel himself start to anger. Just who did she think she was! She knew nothing about him, save her prejudice about his kind. It didn’t take long before he began to accost her, making certain that she was fully aware of just who she was talking to.

“Just who do you think you are to judge me? Fancy Title or not, you of all people should not be so quick to fall victim to such biases. I might be drow, but I’m not just drow. I’m elf, just like you. So before you assume I’m all evil and always up to no good, why don’t you ask and get to know me.” His arms crossed over his chest as he glared down at her. “It’s not like I asked to be drow. I want nothing to do with my kind, or even your kind.” He scoffed. “If I had it my way, I would like to be a simple human. Life would be dandy and simple. Not full of prejudice.” Stepping away from her, he moved toward the table that housed his meal. “I’m not a free man. I’m a drow. I’m loathed and feared. When people see me coming, they pull out their pitch forks and fire, trying to lure me away from their beloved families.” Hands balling into a fist, Saith looked over his shoulder at Mae. “I’m not a monster like you all paint me out to me. I’m no dragon.” His lip curled up to show his disgust at the situation. “Tch. Why do I even bother. You don’t care. Why should you, Fancy Title? You have it all. Everything you want. Power and respect. You could never understand what it’s like to be trapped in your own skin, unable to break free of the norms and lore that surrounds you.” His blue orbs showed hints of tears, but none came down his cheeks.

“When I was just a kid, my parents – an elf and a drow – asked me what I wanted to be when I grew up. Saying a ‘prince’ would be too cliché and unrealistic so I went with my next dream, a knight.” His body faced her now and his sapphire eyes locked with hers. “The look on their faces when I told them that was enough to crush me. I knew, right then and there that I could and never would be a knight.” His hands tore at his skin. “And all because of this! Since when should the color of one’s skin define them!” His hands moved to his ears and hair. “Since when should looks determine our happiness in life!”

Dropping to the bed, he fell silent for a moment. “I’m not a thief.” Saith’s eyes came back up to her. “And the name is Saith, pronounced like a scythe that you cut the fields with.” His head turned away from her. “And the people of the city know I’m no monster. I’m their hope and salvation, the one that keeps their bellies full during the years of drought and flood.” It was true. During years of bad harvest and poor animal populations, Saith was one of a few who could successful snare animals. He was always careful about his kills, too, aiming for the eye so that the real meat and fur was never damaged.

A shrug came before he kicked back up to his feet and joined her at the window that overlooked the garden. “Feels weird, doesn’t it. Being trapped within your own castle.” His eyes followed a butterfly as it danced before the glass. “Imagine living in this prison the rest of your life. With no means of escaping.” Hands wrapped around the bars, not caring about any magical powers that could be bestowed upon them. “I’m afraid I know nothing more than you about your thief.” His tone had changed. It wasn’t full of wrath or loathing. It was calmer, almost monotone in appearance. “I haven’t a clue what she plans to do with the items… items.” His ears shifted and he moved back from the wall. “So her bag contained more than just your goblet.” Saith’s hands moved to his chin. “Interesting. Would explain why she didn’t put it down.” Blue orbs moved down to meet Mae’s gaze. “Did your missing list of items include some sort of magical weapons?” He could see her confusion. “I’m not one to drop and talk crazy. I don’t hallucinate either. My constitution is beyond compare. But something overcame me. Was there anything you’re missing that would cause me to grow heavy, weak, and impaired?”

Now pacing from her to the door, he tried to wrap his head around the idea. If there wasn’t a weapon that did it, then it had to be a power of the woman. “If it wasn’t something of yours, it’s possible it was her own doing.” Without thinking, he grabbed the priestess and gave her a light shake. “Tell me, do you know any creatures with such dark powers?” The shaking stopped, but his hands remained on her. “She was no elf or drow. Far from human, too.” His grip finally released as he moved to the table again. “Do mages roam the woods here? What about witches?” He was grasping at straws at this point, completely missing what the priestess might have been telling him. That was until he realized he was speaking very much out of line and could probably lose his head because of it. Shutting his trap, he scratched his white hair before taking a seat on the bed. “Sorry,” he offered up, “I just… I just don’t want a person like that roaming the city and the woods. Who knows who she’ll hurt in the process….” His eyes dropped to the floor. Silence overcame him as he worried about the kids of the city. He would hate to see them hurt.

__________________