A race. A race with no name, no history. It is not a vampire, not a sasquatch, not a cyborg, alien, shapeshifter, lizardman, angel, ghoul, witch… It is nothing; nothing that anyone knows anything of. It came from nowhere. It does not even know itself. It has powers, surely; it has concrete traits. Perhaps a lesser-known myth may correspond to it somewhat. But no one can say for sure.
What do you do with a creature that seems to have no connection to anything? What do you do when you’ve looked for clues and found none, and when no one is looking for you, or it? Is it the last of its kind, or are there more out there? Does it have a purpose, or is it a mistake? Is it good, or is it evil?
Perhaps the same could be asked of all humanity.
There are endless questions that we humans don’t have answers to; endless doubts and uncertainties and proofs that we don’t have it all together. So why should some other magical race have it all together? Why should they have any more of an idea of what they are and what they’re supposed to do, or even what they can do?