He walked silently across the autumn grass, only the occasional leaf crunching underfoot while paint strokes of pink and orange created the sunset. The wind blew gently as his companion darted by him, the large pale grey and cream wolf running down the street—carelessly phasing through the couple huddled together, furthering their shivers.
He shook his head and sidestepped the couple, being ignored as they hurried on. The wolf howled from several streets down, impatiently calling for him to hurry it up. He chuckled but didn't accelerate his pace, annoying his companion as he leisured along—enjoying the crisp evening.
By the time he reached his destination, the sun had set and the world was lit only by a partial moon and a few bright stars. The wolf leaped back over the low fence and circled him, eyes narrowing against the dark sky. He followed the canine's gaze and watched fondly as golden streams began filling the air. Not the intricate web yet, as the only sleeping children were the very young, but a few dazzling streams all the same.
Among their glittering trails, an inky blotch darted across the sky. He sighed with a roll of his eyes as it descended towards his destination and the baby girl within. He opened the gate and fixed the dark horse with a firm look before it could enter the nursery. "I wouldn't if you want to remain as you are. Go pester someone older."
The horse reared away from him with a loud whiny before snorting and falling heavily on all fours again, piercing golden eyes narrowing at him.
He lifted a pale hand, threatening to merely touch the nightmare. "You really want to do this again?"
The nightmare whined unsurely and left a moment later.
He sighed and shook his head at the nuisance before turning with a soft smile to the little girl soundly asleep within, just barely discernible through a crack in the curtains. Though he could see her perfectly, tightly clutching a doll with white hair and a blue sweater, his reflection stood stark on the glass—the Moonlight almost turning the glass into a mirror.
His skin was a light grey while his cream hair shifted and blew in an imaginary breeze. His eyes, a luminescent gold, caught the Moon's reflection and smiled. "Hello, MiM I believe?"
As he turned, a moonbeam fell across his face and his wolf companion whined in excitement. "Hello Jamie Soilleir."
Jamie huffed a laugh. "Is that who I am now?"
The moonbeam left with a warm trace across his face and while the moon still glowed brightly, its attention was no longer on him. He turned to his companion with brows raised. "That's it? No wonder Jack was lost for three centuries."
He ignored the Moon and returned his attention to the little girl before the creak of the front door opening caught his and his companion's attention. He turned away from the window to follow them inside, only for his fond smile to fall at the sight of a distraught older woman crying in the doorway with a younger man ushering her inside.
"Aunt Sophie, I'm glad you decided to come."
Jamie followed his little sister inside the familiar house before the door shut; a wolf's cry alerted him that his friend had not made it before the door closed. He shook his head in mild annoyance and merely stared at the door until he came bounding through the side window, phasing through it as all dream sand does.
Jamie rolled his eyes as the overgrown dog started wandering around and brushing against the people gathered, many of them smiling slightly at his touch as gray and cream sand lingered around them. He stood away from the main group huddled in the living room, a somber air filling the room.
That was until a little voice broke the soft-spoken conversations. "Mommy?"
A woman broke away from the group and swept the little girl up in her arms, asking gently, "What's wrong? Why are you awake?"
She only buried her face in her mother's neck, sniffling and clutching her doll closer. It was a long minute before she muttered, "Wan' gram'pa."
The mother's brows pinched sadly, holding her daughter closer. "I know…but he can't be here anymore."
Sophie came over with a smile, but Jamie could tell it was forced. "How about I tell you some stories he told me?"
The little girl looked up, eyes drying a tad. "Abou' Jack?" Sophie nodded and reached out for her niece, taking her in her arms and back to her room.
Jamie smiled at all the memories he had with the Guardian and followed them down the hallway. They passed several picture frames; a few of the parent's wedding, others family photos and cute candids, and one on the wall next to the little girl's room was of a tired mother in bed with a proud father and a beaming grey haired man standing beside the man with a pink bundle and scrunched face.
Jamie entered the room, smiling at Sophie laying the girl back down in her bed while pulling the rocking chair closer. "Hm…which story to tell? Oh, I know! Back when your grandpa was still a little boy, just before Easter, the last of winter refused to leave—Jack Frost sailed through town! He decided it would be fun to take your grandpa for a little ride." She chuckled, lost in memories.
Jamie smiled at the memory and left the room, giving Sophie and the little girl a last look before leaving. He wandered back to the living room, littered with photos and people he cared for, giving them one last glance. Pictures of him as a little boy, proudly showing off his missing tooth; years later with a beautiful girl on their wedding day; him and the same woman lying on a hospital bed with a precious blue bundle in a shared grasp; and many more until he was old and very grey.
The door opened and Jamie left with the unsuspecting mourners. He really ought to feel worse about his…death, but he just couldn't. He lived a good life—and he will continue to live it.
He paused at his granddaughter's window again and looked down at his companion before flicking a wrist and sending a small stream through the glass. Before it reached her, it condensed into a little wolf and ran around her head, some of its sand beginning to swirl above her. Her dream was a simple, childish one of playing with him. The wolf nipped at the dream sand and her dream self seemed to awaken, taking his hand and running off, pointing to the sky.
He smiled and left.
A week passed and it was, interesting. There was no instruction manual for being a spirit, so everything was learned through trial and error. He now had more sympathy for Jack than ever before. He was still in Burgess, though he figured he should leave soon—after all, the other children deserved lucid dreams just as much as the children here did. However, like Jack, he'd likely forever migrate back here—it was his home while human.
It was midafternoon and he casually strolled the outskirts of town, now passing the cemetery—where his funeral had taken place a day prior. And wasn't that a weird experience? He shuddered at the memory of his morbid curiosity. He really wished they'd had a closed casket ceremony, it was just weird looking at your older and dead self.
The temperature plunged the closer he came to the cemetery and though he didn't feel temperatures the same way anymore; it was a startling difference. His companion barked and took off into the graveyard, yipping excitedly.
Jamie debated leaving him, he wasn't too keen on seeing his headstone, the whole notion still a bit too strange for him…But he supposed he should go and keep his friend from digging him up. He didn't need that particular horror.
He hurried through the graves, some almost three centuries old while others only days. "Morpheus, get back here and don't you dare dig me up! I'm supposed to guard lucid dreams, not nightmares!"
He rounded an old and very large tombstone/monument, only to freeze. Jack Frost sat on the now frozen ground, staring at his grave with huge tears in his eyes. His companion tried to gain his attention by licking his face, but only succeeded when he stole the winter spirit's staff.
Jack finally blinked out of his stupor and bolted for the wolf. "Hey, get back here you mutt!"
Morpheus promptly the stick while wagging his tail.
Jack glared momentarily at the dream creature before sighing and giving him a little smile. "So you're still around, huh, Morpheus?"
"Of course he is." Jamie said, catching up to the pair, but Jack's back was to him.
Jack laughed sadly, rubbing the wolf's ears. "Well, I just kind of guessed he'd disappear with you, Jamie. Especially after Sandy said he had no idea how he came about."
"Jack," Jamie frowned, taking a step closer, "I'm still here."
Jack's hand fell from Morpheus' head. "I know. They always say that they're never truly gone." He looked the wolf dead in the eye. "But just between you and me, I think they say that to make us feel better…it's hard to feel like they're not gone when you're the only one who remembers them." He shoulder's drooped, staring up at the sky.
"Jack…" Jamie said, finally taking Jack's limp arm.
Jack shrieked, the wind carrying him ten feet into the air. Jamie was lucky he didn't outright bolt. But no matter how frightened the winter spirit was, he couldn't withhold his burst of laughter at the look on Jack's face.
Jack, suspended in the air, slowly uncurled from around his staff and floated back down to earth—carefully watching this strange amalgamation of dream sand. As he came closer, he could make out the laughing face better and then it clicked—that really was Jamie's voice. "Jamie?" He couldn't help but ask hesitantly.
Jamie wiped away a sandy tear, smiling broadly—a strange sight considering their scenery of death. "It's me, Jack, it's really me."
Jack hesitated for all of a second before rushing forward and grasping his first believer in a firm hug. "Oh MiM…when Sandy said you were dead, and then the grave marker…"
Jamie returned the hug. "Well, I guess it's kind of true. Not exactly sure what happened…felt like I went to sleep and then, when I woke up, I'm like this."
Jack couldn't keep back his maniac smile. He couldn't tell which one was a happier occasion, his first believer finally believing or his first believer not actually being dead. "So…what are you?" He asked, looking his friend over.
Jamie glanced at Morpheus before rubbing his sandy fingers together. "Best I can tell, I guard, guide, create? lucid dreams."
Jack nodded, also looking over at the dream wolf who'd been with his first believer almost since he first believed. "That would make sense." He was quiet for a moment before poking his sandy clothes. "So, how does it work?"
Jamie grinned, looking up at the sun's position. "Come night, I'll show you!"
Jack swung around his staff until he squatted up on its crook. "Well, until then, want a ride for old time's sake?"
Jamie beamed then yelped as Jack took off, laying a sheet of ice beneath his feet.
Jamie made his rounds, currently somewhere in Romania, when a terrified whiney and a baleful howl echoed through the night. None of the people still wandering the streets heard the raucous, but Jamie was not the only one who did hear it.
"Be gone, you accursed beast! What are you?! You are far too beastly to be one of Sanderson's creations!" A familiar voice shrieked, though he almost couldn't place it after the many years.
Jamie ran down the street and turned the corner to see Morpheus dodge a swing on Pitch's scythe and nip the heel of the nightmare. Pitch Black wailed as the nightmare became infected with the strange sand, then collapse, its sand becoming absorbed by Morpheus. Pitch turned a furious, golden eye on the wolf. "Do you have any idea how long it takes to create those?!"
"Can't be that long." Jamie said casually, stuck between shaking his head at his companion and smirking—that was until Morpheus sent him an image of the nightmare stalking a baby. "You obviously have enough to spare for kids too young to believe in you."
Pitch glared at him, chin tilted up in disgust. "And who are you?"
"MiM calls me Soilleir but I prefer Jamie."
Pitched huffed, glaring again at Morpheus as he padded around the Nightmare King to sit by Jamie's side. "Wonderful. Yet another dream keeper. Tell me, do you plague Sanderson as you do me? This is not the first time your beast has chased away my nightmares."
Jamie had to laugh. "Yeah, sure, I 'plague' Sandy's dreams like I do yours. Good or bad, everyone should be able to control their dreams—at least from time to time."
Pitch crossed his arms with a near inaudible huff before narrowing his gaze on the new spirit again. "I feel as though I know you—yet you are far too young for us to have met any time but recently…"
Jamie shrugged. "We have, but I wasn't a spirit then."
Pitch's eyes widened almost comically, hurriedly shifting several feet away. "The last light. How, poetic."
Suddenly, the black sky lit up as strands of gold snaked through the air. Pitch groaned as a cloud of golden sand descended, Sandy glaring at him suspiciously—briefly breaking his wary gaze to wave cheerily at Jamie.
Pitch returned the golden man's glare. "I cannot stay locked up in that hole, Sanderson, I too have a job as much as you and the guardians might hate it."
Sandy tilted his head accusingly, a few symbols of sand flashing too quickly to be interpreted.
Pitch rolled his eyes, catching the gist. "No, I am not planning the Guardians' demise—yet."
Sandy nodded firmly before turning to Jamie with a curious look and wiggling his fingers at the lucid dream sand creature.
Jamie smiled and shook his head. "Nah, I'm fine Sandy. Honestly, I think I scare him more than he scares me." He smirked at the Bogeyman. "He hasn't scared me since I was a kid."
Pitch turned away from the collection of dream keepers, disappearing into the shadows but not before he growled, "Truly, MiM? Frost's believer? This is unnecessary cruelty."
Sandy silently laughed and gave Jamie two thumbs up before reforming his cloud into a plane, taking off for the next city.
Jamie chuckled and patted his ever faithful companion. "Good boy. Now, let's go have some fun with dreams."
Morpheus howled in excitement before bounding off in search of their next lucky candidate.
Soilleir: Scott-Gallic for lucid. Went with this based on the fan theory Jamie is decedent from Jack's sister, who was most likely English but very likely had some Scottish in there somewhere.