The Crack In Heaven [A LitRPG Progression Fantasy] Chapter 28: Chapter 28: New Home

Read chapter 28 of The Crack In Heaven [A LitRPG Progression Fantasy] by Adamus_Auguste on NovelPedia.

Chapter 28: New Home It took Kael a frown to shift his views on Els' future. It wasn't about needing her only, but a flaw at the base of his worry, a desire to keep her out of this mess that didn't account for the cold, hard reality of her exposure—and his own mistake when he wore her shoes. Refusing to let her join me won't protect her when she's already neck-deep in this. What she needs—what we all do—is time to understand truths before gangs catch wind. Shallow light from street lampposts filtered onto Kael's extended palm. "We're beginning to touch things that should be left unlearned. Thugs will come after me if they hear I'm alive. It'll be hard; we'll have to hide, likely without roofs over our heads for a while. But if you still want to come, to understand what you became with me, then prepare to leave." "I thought you'd refuse..." Els slowly reached for his hand. She grabbed it, a smile blossoming across her face. "No take-backs." Before he could answer, she pulled the cheap tallow box from beneath the table into her basket. Half-consumed coal from the hearth followed, then the junk tins she used to shape her candles. The blankets didn't fit in, so she shoved a pair in Tonio's hand and another in Kael's. "Ready!" That was all she owned. More than Kael. Still so little that he grumbled. "We'll be like kings among beggars." "We're going to the beggars' streets?" Els' hands froze, and for a moment she gazed at him as if he were a stranger, a man smitten by the gods, or both. "I like the sewers better..." "Are you sure?" Kael raised a brow. "The facility and the Sump Dogs... I take it back." "Right? It was my second choice if the stories about the sewer community were just tales." Kael's eyes sharpened like a blade as he thrust the door open. Cold wind rustled his dark hair, his voice echoing in the silent morning. "If we can't hide in a haven, we'll do it in the heart of chaos." The almost empty supply bag slung over his shoulder, the blanket tucked against his chest, he led the way. Tonio shoved his items back in his pockets and scowled when Kael put the round glasses on his nose by the door. Els, however, lingered. She traced the shack's rotten walls, the stone slab hanging over two crooked pipes, and her father's closed room with her eyes. Understanding her, Kael waited at the corner of the street. It was the home of her happiest and saddest memories; the home she had to leave to escape grief's squeezing claws. She joined him after several minutes. "Let's go." She walked beside him, and Kael paused to note her clothes. Gone was her patched green dress, replaced by her father's darkened shirt and coarse pants. He didn't comment. He simply nodded. A girl in the beggar streets would draw them like mosquitoes to a flame. They walked on wet ground, their shadows stretched tall by the lampposts. In the distant central district, the giant cogs loomed over the clock tower. 7.32 A.M. Els glared at the time as if to carve it in mind. Kael noted it, then returned to inspect the street. Few were out this early, and those who were hoisted their pickaxe over their shoulder, pressing forward without giving them more than a glance that already made them grumble about the smell. Somehow, Tonio looked like a very hairy man who reeked worse than sewer water when he wore the glasses. Everyone they met turned away with the same scrunch of their noses until houses of plated stones faded into dilapidated habitations. If Ashcoil Row was poor enough for rust, mold, and dust to paint everything in grey, the beggar streets were worse. A hell that strangled the very idea of hope in the cradle of famine, of violence, of lawlessness. His mom's words when he asked why she had never begged here. And even they described something better than the dozen men and women flanking the walls. Kael was skinny, had been for as far as he could remember. But they were bones wrapped in pale skin, ribs jutting sharp beneath hollow stomachs. They cradled babies he