It was said, in times past, when those who understood dreams were commonplace, that the person most dear, the one you would marry, came to you in your dreams. Young adults in villages across the land would dream of each other, and through their dreams recognize the affinity for each other. They would settle in their village, marry, and raise their families. However, there were those who would dream of persons unknown or even rarer, no one at all. To many, these were the cursed, for whom no future existed besides toil and ache. The people who thought this, they were truly the miserably ones, stuck in the misery of dreams fulfilled.
The unmatched they were called. Not cast out from their villages, but custom suggested they leave to take up wandering the Earth to find their match. Far from cursed, they were the lucky ones, who had reason to travel, see, and learn what the world had to offer. Along the travels they’d meet with others like them, travel with them a ways, part, meet others, and continue their journeys onward. On occasion, two would meet, journey for some time, coming to know each other more than the dreammates could ever hope to know their match. These were the few true matches, the kind villagers wished to believe never existed. These matches were the truly lucky ones, for they had experienced love rather than some facsimile cast upon them by fate.