Carabas

Me and a few others have been poking around this seemingly abandoned house, and I have a suspicion that I'm getting more and more certain of as we explore. I finally voice it: this is my house, or rather, this world's version of me; a female version apparently. I'm reasonably certain we can use this as a way to connect between the worlds, since neither version of me is in our original world right now. We'll test it by passing through some random object - I pick up what looks like a game piece, a notched wooden peg painted green. I'll go to sleep with it in my pocket, and it should pass over to her side while I'm asleep.

Time skip. One of the people I'm traveling with - earnest young blonde man, round glasses, dressed in robes that remind me of the Magician's - is setting up what looks like a summoning circle, directing the others. He fills me in on what happened while I was unconscious this time around: the people in the other world were able to deliver the third of the necessary artifacts to us. It goes unsaid, but the important part was less the specific artifact and more the fact that it was an object that had passed between worlds, though they also have to represent specific elements. We're going to use the artifacts to open up a portal we can all get through. I'm vaguely annoyed about having such a one-sided view of things, only being able to see the events unfolding in this one world, getting half the story; but it can't be helped, I have to be asleep for any communication between worlds to occur.

Disembodied, I'm looking at a woman standing on a pier some two hundred or so years ago, facing away from me, looking out to sea. She makes a striking image, her black hair and her long dark skirt in stark contrast against the bright grey of the clouded-over sky and sea. There's music being played badly. The men she's been staying with or traveling with are having a going-away party for her, but she's stepped away from it for a moment.

The scene changes to the place she's headed - a man's riding a horse recklessly fast over hilly terrain, playing what he refers to as a game of tag with her.

(Woke up. Back to sleep.)

After a few other dream scenes, I'm back to that woman on the pier. This time she's turned around, talking to one of the men from the party. He has a going-away present for her, two small dark objects that he presses into her hands, something that I think of as 'artifacts.'