Dear Jack,
I’m not quite sure why I got around to writing this instead of just telling you. I suppose it’s because I get embarrassed so easily. See? That’s even something I wouldn’t have admitted any other day, especially through my lips.
Anyway, you always had questions that I never got around to answering, so here it is. I would ask you to burn this once you’re done reading, but that would be melodramatic. So you can just hand this over to me or something, and I’ll deal with it accordingly.
Be wary that my kind isn’t as simple as yours. Daoine, as I like to call your kind, are annoying, inquisitive, senseless creatures that I would much rather avoid. But over the years, I found myself forced to work with them.
They are simple. I am not. Or at least that’s what I thought for a while.
This letter will be quite long. This letter will not grant you sweet dreams, rather terrible nightmares. You’ll end up thinking about it more than you should.
For this, I am terribly sorry.
A/N:
Daoine = Means humans, folks, or people (Google let me down this time. If anyone is Irish, please PM me xD). Pronounced as deena.
If you are reading this and you haven't read Across Acheron before, I would suggest reading that story first. A lot of this would make sense if you did, but hey, it's your choice.
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Keenan and his Kind
FantasyKeenan goes by many names. The Death King is one of them. He had grown accustomed to living his life with one set plan: only talk to humans when you absolutely need to. He craves the trouble they have to offer and gains excitement from their bloodsh...
