Lore

"Could you describe the figure once more?"

The boy had already done so a million times, he swore if he asked again, he would lose his mind. But with his eyes on him, and his own eyes rolling, he responded with a familiar vexation in his voice, "I told you; it was this huge, furry monster, with eight eyes and giant claws-- it had wings, like a dragon! And it was glowing, but only on its head. It was as big as an elephant, and it was just standing by my bed, staring at me! And then it was gone, like it just disappeared!"

The man nodded, grunting an unconvinced, "Uh-huh..." With pencil and pad in hand, he attempted to sketch the so-called "furry monster," like he had done at least a dozen times before, but it was never right according to the sole witness: A ten-year old boy with what he assumed was an overactive imagination. Damn waste of his time, it was. But he was a hunter of cryptids, so he carried with him the benefit of the doubt. Eight eyes, giant claws, wings... Maybe it had just been a nightmare.

"You don't believe me," the boy added with a huff, crossing his arms and slumping back in the diner seat. The man looked up with a quirk in his brow, squinting across the table before sliding the most recent sketch over the top to let the child serve up his critique. "No, it's all wrong. Give me your pencil." The boy impatiently reached across the table and grabbed the tool before his artist could interject, and then he was scribbling away on the next empty page.

"It's not that I don't believe ya, kid. It's just that I deal with this stuff all the time; for something so distinctive, I'd've usually heard a few more reports than this by now." He sat back and crossed his arms, idly chewing the toothpick between his lips.

"There's a first for everything. That's what my mom always says," the boy retorted in a mumble, head down over the sketchbook like his life depended on it. The hunter just nodded slowly as he watched him, taking a deep, exhausted breath. When his book was finally returned, it came to him in an agitated rush, followed by the cold stare of a kid who insisted on being taken seriously.

The man looked down at the drawing, amateur, but well enough to get the point across. "Alright," he started again, folding the cover over the pages before storing the pad and pencil in his satchel. "I'll let ya know if anything comes up. 'Til then, just keep your doors and windows locked."

And with that, he left the diner without another word.

He was asleep at the little round table he kept by the window, sketches and papers scattered beneath his snoring form. The crashing and rumbling of the storm outside wasn't enough to wake him, but still he stirred, with images of the boy's "monster" creeping behind his eyelids. It wasn't uncommon for him to have nightmares, given the accounts of creatures he'd hear about so often in his line of work, but nevertheless, it was always uncomfortable.

His head showed these creatures gnashing their teeth and flashing their eyes, like something out of that one book about the wild things, only bigger and more likely to eat someone up. Still, it wasn't until he felt the cold rain and wind hit his face that he opened his eyes, seeing that, to his surprise, his window had been opened all the way -- including the screen.

He was up in an instant, slamming shut both the screen and the glass and stumbling into the kitchen for a knife, listening carefully for the sound of an intruder.... How one managed to get over the table without startling him was a mystery, until he saw the small form of a cat through the hallway, at the end of his bed. Caution still at his side, and knife in hand, the man approached the moonlit silhouette, checking all doors along the way, quiet as he could be.

When he reached the doorway of his bedroom, the cat turned its head, seeming to freeze the man where he stood with all eight of its eyes peering at him through the darkness. And then it seemed to have vanished into thin air, and the man still stood frozen in his doorway, eyes wide, breath held, and heart pounding. Cats didn't have eight eyes; hell, cats couldn't even open windows. Not like that.

Carefully, he took one step into the room before, in an instant, his right hand was empty, and a chill was left behind. He turned quick on his heel, and there, again, was the eight-eyed cat, knife clenched between its jaws as it sat tall, tail swaying with that well-known feline arrogance. Was he still asleep?

Recognizing his shock, the cat lowered the knife to the floor, then stepped forward, kicking the weapon back down the hall as it approached. Calmly, coolly, it wrapped itself around the man's ankles and returned to the foot of his bed, before an ethereal voice filled the room.

"Forget what the boy said," it spoke, grace and majesty laced throughout the words. "May you be blessed with sweet dreams if you heed my word, and cursed with bitter nightmares if you refuse. Tonight, sleep easy, and tomorrow, leave it behind you."

And then the cat was gone, and morning came, finding the man in his bed. There was golden sand upon his pillows, and where he had stood.

Origin

Dreamwalkers are ancient creatures that exist all over the universe, but they all got their start from an old star that gave them life through its end, creating them out of stardust. The supernova launched them in every direction, and they remained in a hibernation state until they eventually came upon habitable planets. Unfortunately, many arrived on planets alone, so the species did not continue long on these planets. They were, however, often regarded as deities or gods if the planet had native, sentient peoples. Others feared them, and others hunted them.

Singular dreamwalkers might have spent their whole lives in search of their kind. Few were successful.

Those dreamwalkers that arrived on planets in groups were likely to flourish, assuming they found each other before death. Those that arrived in pairs were less likely to be successful, due to the limited gene pool.

Most notable is the success of dreamwalkers on Earth, where a reasonably large group arrived and spread. The Earth variant is the primary one that will be focused on here.

Dreamwalkers on Earth

Dreamwalkers have existed on Earth for millions of years, but with them they carried otherworldly intelligence and power. Early dreamwalkers spoke a language of their own, but over many generations of living alongside developing humans, they gradually began to speak human language instead, and it is now their preferred tongue (however there are a handful of dreamwalkers who maintain traditional language and culture).

When they first came, they were regarded as forest spirits that could either bring blessings or curses depending on the type of person one was. As such, they were equally feared as they were worshiped. Those who performed good deeds and maintained good morals were the recipients of the dreamwalkers' blessing, while immoral and corrupt people were victims of their curse. It was during this period of time that dreamwalkers lived among humans freely, recognizing that they were not a threat, but another intelligent creature that they could associate with. It was not unlikely to find dreamwalkers basking in the sun on someone's roof, or strolling through the streets.

Humans hosted festivals in the dreamwalkers' honor every few months (more or less), where they would offer food or treasures to the creatures in an attempt to please them or satiate their potential to curse. The beasts were commonly regarded as good-natured and benevolent, and were grateful for these celebrations as a result, but over time these festivals became less inviting and more thick with fear. The more comfortable dreamwalkers got with their place in human society, the more humans began to cower from them, understanding their great power and dreading what they were potentially capable of. As a result, dreamwalkers began to withdraw from human settlements, feeling they had outlived their welcome.

It was not long after they had retreated completely that they were ambushed by the very towns that had treated them as deities for centuries prior. Humans now regarded them as monsters and demons, capable of hellish might that must be purged. The dreamwalkers were bewildered by this premonition and longed for closure, but it was never received. They ultimately evacuated their long-term homes and seemed to have fallen extinct after the last sighting faded away into the following decades.

For centuries they were then regarded as myths, told only in fanciful folklore, until they eventually faced extinction on human tongue as well.

Today they have spread to even further reaches of the globe, but many have returned to living near human settlements, However, they take care to remain concealed from human knowledge, as they understand their lives may be at risk if they so much as revealed themselves once more.

Yet, there are many that choose to take this risk.