Dream: Soul in Hand

I dreamed I was riding in my friend Ashley's convertible with my other friends, Anjin, Catheryne and April. We were driving down Mayfield rd when suddenly a car going 70mph in oncoming traffic swerved into our lane and hit us head on. We were all killed.
We woke up in the middle of a dark forest. After asking around to make sure all of us were okay, we noticed each of us held in our hand a ball of glowing light. Everyone's was a different color.
Mine was indigo purple.
Aprils was royal blue.
Ashley's was orange.
Catheryne's was rose pink.
Anjin's was emerald green.
We didn't know what these glowing balls were, but we knew somehow that they were extremely important. None of us wanted to set them down, or put them away, so we just kept them in our hands.
Not knowing what else to do, we started walking through the forest, trying to find anyone or anythign that could give us some answers. Eventually we came to the edge of the woods, and saw a small cottage. A short, odd-looking man was chopping wood out front.
"Excuse me," we called to him. He looked up, startled and unfriendly. We tried to ask him where we were. He didn't seem to be listening. He was staring at my left hand where I was unsuccessfully trying to conceal the indigo light that was shining through my fingers. His eyes widened.
"Put that away!" he hissed. We stared at him in surprise.
"Get in the house. Go!" he whispered frantically. We fled quickly through the door. The woodcutter followed us, looking around at the forest fearfully as he shut the door. Inside was a large, comfortable room with a big wooden table and a woodstove. A small plump woman was busy cooking something. She looked around at us all in surprise when we walked in.
"What's all this then?" she asked. Then she caught sight of Ashley's glowing orange ball and her eyes grew wide and fearful.
"What do you mean, bringing them in here!?" she hissed at her husband. "The last thing we need is that kind of trouble!"
"Hush, wife." he said. "Can't you see they don't even know where they are? If we let them go by themselves, they'd be killed in hours."
We all sat at the table and they asked us our story. We told them that the last thing we remembered was the car accident, and they nodded as if this confirmed soemthing they had already suspected. They told us that sometimes when people in our world die, but were not supposed to die, they came to this world. It didn't' happen often, but often enough that everyone of this world knew of it. They told us that our only chance of regaining our lives and returning to our world was to petition the King, who lived in a palace in the center of the kingdom. There we would have to present our case to the King's bureaucrats and wait for the chance to petition the King directly. He would then decide whether or not you should return to your life, or remain here until you died properly.
We asked them why they were so afraid when they first saw us. They gave each other a knowing look, then the woodcutter took a deep breath. He told us that the glowing balls we carried in our hands were our souls. Only those from our world had them. If you lost your soul, you would die completely. He told us that our souls were extremely valuable in this world. They could be cut up and used as an ingredient in very rare, very powerful magic. An entire otherworld soul was worth more than most people made in their lifetimes.
"There are many," the woodcutter's wife said grimly, "who would be willing to kill you for even a tiny piece of your soul. Even the most kindhearted might be tempted. You must disguise yourselves. Try to blend in until you get to the palace. Keep those souls hidden! Especially from the warlocks..."
Warlocks? I asked. They exchanged another look.
They told us that the warlocks were a species of very powerful magic users. There was an unstable peace between the worlocks and the King. Our souls, they told us, were a tremendous source of power for the warlocks. They could sense them. If they didn't know of our presence yet, they would soon and they would be after us with horrible determination.
"Never stay in one place too long, or they will catch up with you." The woodcutter said. "Even information about you would be extremely valuable, if anyone is foolish enough to try to deal with warlocks."
The woodcutter and his wife gave us some new clothes to help disguise ourselves, and some provisions for the journey. They also gave us each something extremely valuable: small leather bags that were spelled to preserve the magic of their contents. We hid our souls in these bags, and wore them on a string around our necks, under our clothes. We were extremely touched by their kindness and generosity. They waved us away and wished us luck with grim expressions.

There was one point of the dream when we learned that the warlocks had been growing more and more powerful. One warlock had figured out a way to travel to our world for a short time. We found out much later that he was the driver of the other car that had hit us. We also learned that the souls that burn brightest are the souls of artists. We had been targeted, and our souls would give the warlocks enough power to take over their own world, and perhaps others.