I had a dream recently, about an Age that doesn’t exist.

I awoke in a small moonlit caldera. Dark cliffs of smooth cool stone stretched into the sky. I looked down and saw that I stood on a small plateau against the edge of the cliff. Deep green water quietly slapped the edges of the plateau. It was not luminescent, but somehow still bright enough to contrast against the square towers of dark stone in the centre of the lake. I found myself walking towards the mysterious pillars,  following a narrow stone lip around the edge of the cliffs.

I reached the pilars and followed a set of rough-hewn steps up. Suddenly I realised there was a dark hooded figure standing on the landing above me. “Where am I?” I asked the figure.

Without looking up at me, a soft female voice replied, “This place is called Siren.”

With an unexpected sense of understanding, I turned to the face of one of the square pillars, and pulled a small wooden latch. I felt the sensation of linking, albeit it was a much softer feeling than the one I am used to. I fell backwards off of the landing into the lake, closing my eyes and allowing the link to take hold, feeling at that moment extremely free.

When my vision cleared I was back on the same landing. Everything was the same, except there was now a space in the cliff, leading into a warmly-lit wood paneled hall. It was filled with joyous revelers, all of whom seemed to know me, and welcome me into their purposeless celebration. As their arms fell around me, I turned back to see the hooded figure staring off across the lake, at something I will never see.

Then I woke.

It was a haunting and beautiful place, this Siren Age. I wonder why I always dream of moonscape Ages…