“Excuse me?” I asked, causing the young woman to roll her eyes at me as if I doing this to personally make her life difficult.

“Have you ever been to a rest stop before?” She asked.

“Uh, no?”

“Boss!” She yelled over one shoulder, “we’ve got a noob.”

And with that she went back to her phone. I took the opportunity to stand up, glancing around the lobby. Other than myself and the girl it was empty, but gave off the feeling of having seen heavy use. The room seemed normal, if a bit tacky and low budget, but nothing about it felt off. The oddest part was the bright, endless void out the windows. Where one might expect to see a parking lot with a flickering neon sign, perhaps some trees with a highway in the distance, there was nothing. Even shielding my eyes against the light I couldn’t make out anything.

“You won’t find anything out there,” a new voice informed me. Turning around I found an older woman approaching me, wearing faded jeans and a button down she seemed much friendlier than the girl at the front desk.

“Some people like staring into the void, for some reason,” she continued, “otherwise we would have boarded up the windows years ago.”

“Where is this?” I asked.

“A rest stop for people who move between worlds,” she explained, “do you know where you were before coming here?”

“Ya, I was on a ship of some kind.”

“Great, then you retain your memory,” she nodded, motioning for me to follow, “just as well as there aren’t any staff positions open.”

“What?” I felt dumb.

“This your first rest stop?” she asked, pushing open a door behind the desk and walking in, I followed and found myself in an old office. She sat at a desk and motioned for me to sit across from her as she began typing away at an old keyboard while staring at a small computer monitor that wasn’t that different from the one from my cell the elves put me in.

“I think,” I said, sitting down.

“Well, rest stops are places for people like us to, well, rest for a bit. Every rest stop is a little different, but the general rules are the same. No fighting, no using abilities on others without consent, no damaging the rest stop, and you leave when your invested time is up. The only currency we use is time, every time you arrive at a rest stop you get twelve hours. Six are pre-invested in you and can’t be spent and the rest are given as coins,” she explained, pushing a half dozen copper coins across the table as she did. Each coin was blank aside from a crease that ran across the face of it, as if it was designed to be folded in half.

“I recommend you get a traveler’s pouch, otherwise the coins won’t follow you. There’s a shop past the bar if you head counter-clockwise,” she continued, “there’s also a post office there, which can send messages between rest stops, for a price. I take it you don’t know your name? Then it’ll be hard to pick up any messages for you, your unlikely to have any mail anyways if you’re new.”

“I’m… very confused,” I admitted, looking at the six coins she handed me.

“To invest time just snap the coin in half, that will add an hour to how long you can stay here,” she continued as if ignoring me, “when your time is up you’ll hear and feel an alarm, from there you have sixty seconds to either invest more time or leave. If you remain the host will boot you from the rest stop.”

“The host?”

“The being that created and maintains this space,” she explained quickly, “rooms are clockwise from the lobby, you can have any room that opens for you. Just try to open the door again before you leave, otherwise our maid will have a hard time telling if you’re gone or not.”

“Maid? What?”

“If you have more questions then there are a few others at the bar, one room counter-clockwise,” she replied, nodding to the door, “stay out of doors marked for staff, and welcome to the rest stop, hope you enjoy your stay.”

I paused, glancing down at the handful of small coins in my hand, I considered asking more questions, but the woman seemed to be working on something on the computer. She paused after a long moment to look at me, glance at the door, then go back to her work. Taking the hint I stood, thanked her and left. Back in the lobby I looked around confused, there were only two other doors in the room, both along the same wall as the one leading to the office. Where the ‘entrance’ door should have been there was a blank wall with a square of padding where I’d landed instead.

“Which way is the bar?” I asked the girl at the desk, with another roll of her eyes she pointed to her left and promptly went back to her phone. I nodded, mumbled thanks and went through the door. The bar was just as I figured it would be, dark save for some light streaming in from the back wall and a few dim lights by the bar itself, cheap fake-wood tables with old leather seats lined the walls and a dozen similarly aged stools were lined up at the bar.

I scowled as I took in the dimensions of the room, it was as far across as the lobby had been, and just a deep, meaning that where the barman stood should have been a door to the office I’d just been in. Or, rather, since there was no hallway between the lobby and bar the barman was standing where the office itself should have been. I turned and looked back into the lobby to confirm my feeling, and sure enough the door to the manager’s office should have opened directly into the bar.

“Trippy isn’t it?” a new voice commented, looking up a man sitting at the bar waved me over. He wore long dark blue robes and had a smooth wooden staff that seemed to stand despite nothing to hold it up next to him.

“Your first time?” he asked, motioning to a seat next to him.

This text was taken from Royal Road. Help the author by reading the original version there.

“Ya, only recently started… remembering my travels,” I replied.

“Don’t think to hard about this place,” he advised, “it’ll make your head hurt. I’m Robert.”

“I’m… uhh… I don’t know my name,” I said apologetically, shaking his hand.

“You are new then,” he smiled, “you should come up with a name or title.”

“People from the first world I remember called me Lord Traveler.”

“Too generic,” Robert dismissed, “and I think it’s taken. There are lots of us, you’ll need something more unique to make your own.”

“Like Robert?” I asked.

“Exactly,” he nodded with a grin, clearly he had a good sense of humor, “you’ll find dozens of Lords and Ladies of dimensional magic, or Gate Walkers, or any other kind of edgy title people think sounds cool. But Robert? An average name in any given world stands out among our kind.”

“So there are other people like me?” I asked the question that had been burning in my mind since I arrived her, “people who travel between worlds?”

“Oh yes,” Robert agreed, pausing to take a sip from his drink, “lots of us, no one knows how many but the commonly accepted answer is that every world produces a single world walker like us.”

“Then you know how and why we travel?”

“Now those are deep questions,” Robert said, leaning back a bit in his stool, “every traveler, as you call us, is as unique as the worlds we originate from. Some of us can remember our travels naturally, others need magic or technology. Some have their bodies reset with every trip others are reborn as children in each world, and still others continue to age. Only the Host entities understand us, hell, some think they are the ones who cause us to travel, but they barely even acknowledge us as living beings.”

“You mean like the one who made this place?”

“Yup. Near as I have seen they are the only creature naturally able to travel between worlds, they live in the cracks between realities. And wherever they live rest stops like this one crop up. By visiting we somehow help them out. I heard someone once say that we are like oxygen atoms to the Host Entities, both in scale and how they view us.”

“Are they some kind of… cosmic gods?” I asked, taken aback.

“Pretty much,” Robert nodded, “turns out cosmic horrors, so powerful that to gaze upon their true forms is to know infinity, who can speak a single word and drive even the strongest man mad, with goals and motives so far beyond our understanding that they are completely unknowable, run a series of cheap motels.”

We shared a laugh over that, and for the first time I felt I understood the purpose of these rest stops. It was a place for travelers to unwind, no-longer on the unknown clock slowly counting down till we’re whisked away. No pressure, no danger, just a low end bar, cheap beer and the company of others who know how you feel.

“You spoke with the manager?” Robert asked, “get your first six coins? Go through the next door and get yourself a pouch so you can take small things with you between worlds. The shop keeper will find you one that works for you.”

“Are the staff here travelers too?” I asked, stopping myself as I started to stand.

“Most of them, the bartender, front desk, manager, maids, all travelers who don’t retain their memories. They are offered jobs, they tend to the rest stop in exchange for the host entity not forcing them out. The shop keeper isn’t though, I don’t know why but he’s the same in every rest stop. Won’t answer any questions about it though.”

Nodding I went through the door on the far side from the one I came through and found myself in another room of the same proportions. The door should have led back to the lobby, instead finding myself in what I could only describe as a gift shop. Shelves of nick-nacks lined the walls, tables with a strange assortment of items ranging from glowing crystals to small computer chips filled the rest of the space. As I entered a man in a cheap suit with a slightly too wide smile approached me.

“Greetings new customer!” he said, a little too excited to see me, “how can I help you? Perhaps you need a new pouch for your coins? Or a change of clothing? Memory expansion module?”

“Uhh,” I said slowly, “just a pouch. This is my first rest stop.”

“Ah, of course, of course,” he replied, weaving through the tables to one with bins filled with small brown bags, no larger than my hand. He began sifting through the identical looking bags while continuing to speak, “lets see, I know I just got one that will work for you in. You think they’d label these things better. Got a bag for everyone, you know, more than one. Ah ha!”

He lifted a bag up out of the dozens of identical ones, holding it up for me to see as if it was exactly what I needed. His smile never wavering he made his way to a small cash register.

“Cash or card? Ha, just a little void humor,” he prattled as he rung me up, “we only accept coin here, or specie as some call it. that’ll be four hours, plus tax will bring you to five. That sound good? Excellent.”

In a bit of a daze I handed him five of my six coins, he pressed more buttons on the register, the bottom popping open for him to drop the coins into. Closing the register he pressed the small bag into my hand.

“Just tie it to your belt and it’ll come with you when you travel. Just a basic model, that one, there are also ones that can’t be taken from you, have more space inside and the like. Anything else I can get you?”

“No, no thanks,” I said quickly before he launched into another sales pitch, making my way back to the bar. I used the draw straps to tie it to a belt loop and put my last coin in it, still processing what had just happened. I sat down next to Robert again.

“How much he charge you?” Robert asked, and when I told him he started laughing, “the basic bags are only worth three hours, the shop keeper likes to haggle.”

“That would have been good to know,” I said with a scowl.

“it’s a right of passage for new travelers,” he assured me before waving to the bartender, “now let’s get you some food and a drink.”

“Can I get much for only one coin?”

“Food, drink and a bed here are free. The Host Entity provides them somehow.”

“What do you have?” I asked the bartender as he reached us.

“What do you want?” the large bald man asked in reply, “we got it all.”

“And it’s free, right?” I asked, casting a mistrustful glance at Robert who smiled innocently.

“Yup,” the massive bartender nodded.

“Uhh, chicken burger and fries? Cola to drink?” I asked, it was something I’d ordered in the second world, the research station, at their cafeteria and it was good. I knew of many kinds of food, but didn’t have any memories of them, so I didn’t know what I liked or hated. The bartender nodded and walked through a door that should have led back to the lobby, but instead seemed to be a kitchen, returning moments later with a plate of food and large ice-cold drink.

“I take it that if you haven’t decided on a name, you don’t have a goal yet?” Robert asked as his own order of some fancy steak arrived.

“A goal?”

“Something for you to aim for in each world you visit. Take it from me, get one, otherwise you’ll go insane. I’ve seen a number of world walkers break, physically incapable of settling down, starting a family, anything like that. Doesn’t have to be anything major, either, mine is to learn as much as I can from each world to advance my magic. But I’ve known a guy who wants to sleep with the most beautiful woman in each world, another who wanted to collect a trinket from every world. There was even one lady who wanted to learn at least one song from every world.”

“In the first world I remembered a lady told me I would travel and make each world better, helping people out,” I replied.

“How have you done so far?”

“Not well,” I admitted, looking down as the memories of the parasitic beetles flashed past my eyes.

“Well, you’re young,” Robert shrugged, “if that’s really the goal you want then you have a hard life ahead.”

“It’s been pretty hard so far.”

“I figured,” he nodded, pausing for another bite of steak, “I’d recommend you get as strong as you can, lots of worlds out there need a lot of help.”

“Every world I’ve been to so far has been… dangerous.”

“Most of them are, I find humanity is often poised on the brink of extinction. Maybe it’s our natural state, the multi-verse ensuring we end up there. Or, my personal theory, we like it that way. If things are too calm, too peaceful, we get restless. I like to think if nothing goes wrong for long enough eventually a human will step up to make things go wrong, just to make things interesting. They might not do it intentionally, but they’ll change something that will ripple outwards till we find ourselves facing something we can’t handle.”

As he spoke I thought back to the worlds I’d visited, the beetles were from a dead world, it had taken a human poking around to reanimate them. The Fair Folk mentioned they found humanity at the height of that civilization, were they invited? Surely it would take more than a handful of elf-aliens to cause the collapse of a technologically advanced civilization. I didn’t know how the Harmony came to infect that ship, but it wasn’t something they understood. Had they created it? Or found it? If you find a recorded sound the first thing you do is listen to it, even if it turns out to be a parasitic harmonic that can overwrite your very thoughts simply by being heard.

I suddenly had an urge to investigate the copy of the Harmony that had taken me over, learn more about it and find out what had happened. Robert said I needed to be strong, but I figured I needed to be smart, set up protections against entities like the Harmony. Learn about magic so I can fight the fair folk, know enough so I didn’t raise another race of super parasites from the dead.

“Well,” Robert said, jumping as if someone had snuck up on him, “that’s my time up.”

He stood, pushing his half finished steak away and brushing his robes off.

“One last piece of advice,” he said as he grabbed his staff, “three rooms counter-clockwise from here there are typically some women who offer… companionship for coin. Find a goal so you never need to use their services.”

“There’s a… Bordello here?” I asked, shocked.

“This is a motel that rents rooms by the hour,” he joked, “of course there is.”

With a smirk he lifted his hand with his staff in the other hand. A moment later space seemed to rip open into a swirling vortex as large as a man. Giving me a last nod Robert stepped into the rift which quickly closed behind him.

“If you have to do that,” the bartender said, scowling at where the rift had been as he gathered Robert’s dishes, “do it in the lobby please.”