Welcome to Gaia! ::

It was, for once, a quiet moment in the shop that Granny Spiderlegs ran. Without her granddaughter around, there was energy to the place; a certain flair only the girl could provide. Though the lamps were on and well light, the old woman couldn't help but feel a sense of approaching darkness that sent a chill up her spine.

Currently, she was sorting her supplies and taking inventory. A small surge of Dreamers had awakened to what they were - people whose dreams attracted spirits to them. She knew she would be seeing more soon, and likely others would visit more than once or twice. She wished there was some way she could make things easier for the Dreamers, but Granny wasn't foolish. Sometimes you needed an extra support or challenge to push you forward and reach your full potential. The problem came with those who fell instead of flew.

But she was over-thinking things. It had to be due to the slow day, though the sign hanging in the window still declared that her shop was open. Currently, the smell of spiced vanilla could be detected from the back of the shop, lingering from something that had been made earlier. It was hard to believe such a shop could be the gateway to understanding one's dreams and what lay within them.

A smile touched Granny's face as she felt the soft chill of the lingering winter dance into her shop. She had just been lamenting over a slow day, and now this Unfortunately, such a visit meant suffering on someone else's behalf, which she could do without.

“Good day, Grey,” she greeted as she looked up. With a careful, deft motion, she set the beads off to one side where they would be out of the way, leaving her work organized so she could return to it later. After making a small note on a pad of paper to mark her place, she turned her attention to her guest. He reminded her of a shy child in some ways, as if he could barely stop from shifting from one foot to the other.

“It is good to see you again. What can I do for you?”

Granny's mouth quirked in a somewhat humorous smile. She understood very well what 'this' was and what it meant for many. Nodding her thanks to the serious young man (most me were “young” to Granny at her age), the woman took the catcher with a slow but confident motion. The catcher most certainly had a faint glow, one that appeared to intensify when she first took the catcher from Greyson. The intensity faded when the catcher left Greyson's hand, at mercy to whatever Granny Spiderlegs intended to do with it.

“Relief is something I can accept,” she assured him with a nod and a chuckle as she sat the catcher down on the desk and ran one finger along the frame. She paused and raised her brows as she looked down at the catcher, suppressing a laugh of delight that lit up her pale blue eyes.

“Well now, I can help you keep from being so fatigued when you wake, Grey, but this particular spirit seems quite fond of you. I don't sense anything malicious, but should you have any problems, even if it's continuing with your energy levels, please come back to me.” She pulled out a pair of tiny silver sewing scissors, the tips of which were as sharp as the day they were first made.

“The spirit – this Oneiroi – has chosen you for the dream you had. It was a beacon of sorts, like a lighthouse. You gave it a light to guide it to what it – to what he – needs to continue to grow. Eventually, his dependency on you will stop and you will no longer experience this recurring dream and the fatigue that goes with.

“But until then, I am afraid you must endure it. I can improve your experience, but it is...unwise...to remove the spirit within. It needs your dreams as much as you do.”

Granny snipped at the threads in the center of the catcher, waiting out Greyson's sudden outburst of disbelief as a parent would a child, but without the condescending air. It was certainly a lot to take in, especially since Grey seemed like such a solid young man.

“An Oneiroi, yes.” She nodded and began counting out several green and gold beads, pausing to double check her number before being satisfied. She looked up at Greyson, still quite sincere as she continued, her expression even becoming serious. It was an unsettling sight on the woman's face when she was normally such a warm and matronly figure.

“They are just as much a person as you and I, Grey. To suggest otherwise is an insult – which I do not suggest you do with this companion of yours. They simply do not exist in this world as we know them. That is why they need us – to understand life in this world and grow strong enough to gain their own forms and identities. But that takes time.

“Part of the attraction may have been that your dream is something that is familiar to you. If it's been recurring for years, then the recent addition of an Oneiroi certainly explains the vivid imagery and your new-found fatigue.”

“It is a lot to take in, especially when there is so much that this world never realizes,” Granny agreed, slowing the pace of her explanation down enough that Greyson could hopefully follow her more clearly. “Most people do not have such an experience, and those that do are not always able to find help. Many who faint from exhaustion suffer from an untended Oneiroi, and there are many whose deaths started the theory of dying when you fall in your dream.

“Your own dream, however, is not such a thing to worry about, as long as you are able to remain alert while you work.” She gave him a reassuring smile, the gravity fading from her face as she chuckled. “Well, you won't have to worry about waking up to find a nude stranger in your home, nor an infant. They tend to have such things taken care of themselves, crafted from dreams. Much of what they sustain on will be dreams, as well. But they will learn to be human from observing you and the world around them.”

Placing one hand against the top of the desk, Granny laid the catcher down long enough to crouch down to the lowest drawer on the side of the desk, where she kept several special items. Making a note to herself to shift the contents towards the top while she was cleaning, the older woman straightened with a wince due to the pain from her complaining joints. In her hand was a small gold brooch that looked like a spear, or perhaps an arrowhead.

“You will learn the dynamics in time, Grey. Oneiroi are as diverse as we are, and they will help you understand what they will need when they discover it themselves.” There were dozens of questions running through his mind, but she decided to take the ones who spoke of for now.

“They look very much like us, though some less than others. They resemble humans, if you will, because that is how our minds understand them best. To those who are not Oneiroi or Dreamers, they will appear as human as your or I. It is a way for human minds to cope with what they do not understand. What they do when they arrive, should they chose to stay in this waking world, is up to them.”

The doubt had faded somewhat from Grey’s face as Granny continued to explain, but she had a feeling he would be one of her more frequent visitors. Not that she would mind; the shop was so quiet these days without her granddaughter around that the old woman was growing lonely.

“My skills are useful, yes,” she agreed with a touch of mirth in her voice. She wound the cord and strung the beads, the familiar weave of his catcher would begin to form, until at last she reached out and began to weave the brooch into it, as well. She sensed many more questions from Greyson and was trying to give him time to ask them all.

“Your companion will have an understanding of themselves, but it will not be complete. This world is foreign to them, and they have to adapt to it as well as you do the lack of sleep you used to have. In a way, you are a guardian and a guide to them, though not all of them are thankful for it.” Her lip twitched as she bit back the rest of her comment, for Granny knew just how…cheeky…some spirits could be. Not to mention the downright dangerous ones, which Greyson wouldn’t have to worry from if what she sensed from the spirit within was any indication –and it almost always was.

“It is best to cooperate with them as best you can, or find a means of balance as you exist together.” The words flowed with ease, countless decades of advice coming to mind as swiftly as reflex or instinct.

Though Grey's face had at first been a mask of panic and disbelief, Granny was able to see how serious the young man was about the task he had been given by forces bigger than either he or herself. There was a sort of pondering in her eyes that told the old woman that the spirit in the catcher she was handling would be in good hands.

“Your catcher may start moving,” she warned him after a moment of reflection. “Some are more persistant than others, but you hae reached a point where your companion will not like being abandoned. For a while, you will be the only one to hear or sense them, so be wary if they start speaking to you while you're alone or you may catch some odd glances.” She chuckled, tying the final knots in place. “Then again, some never speak at all, or rarely. It is up to them.”

Grey's remark was rewarded with a warm smile and laugh from Granny, filled with understanding as she gave him a small nod. “It is certainly that, to say the least. Should you find you have more questions, I'm always here to answer them.”

Odd hours, now there was an understatement. At last, Granny handed the catcher back to Grey with an expression of content on her lined face, making sure he ha a solid grip on the catcher before letting go. She could hear the gears of his minding chugging and turning at full speed, a sight that was again a sign of hope to the old woman that there was still hope for the people whose dreams were so unusual.

“Thank you, Grey, that is very kind of you. I will remember.”