The Crack In Heaven [A LitRPG Progression Fantasy] Chapter 7: Chapter 7: Anchored in Absence

Read chapter 7 of The Crack In Heaven [A LitRPG Progression Fantasy] by Adamus_Auguste on NovelPedia.

Chapter 7: Anchored in Absence People died in the slums every winter. The old, the weak, the broken, their bodies discarded to the side of the road, waiting to be thrown into the burial pit. Just in the alley adjacent to the factories, three heaps of dust and snow had formed against the walls, three people who would never open their eyes again. Yet, a heap cracked from movement. Chunks of snow cascaded down Kael's bloodied bandages. His blue eyes were wide open, but his mind still struggled. He had no cloak or fire. If his wounds didn't kill him, the frost should have. And somehow, he did not shiver. "What happened to me?" Kael watched his trembling palm, the junk flower still there. Blood didn't ooze from the stabbed side of his abdomen. His skin, reddened from the corrosive water, stung much less. He could even feel strength in his broken arm. The wounds were still there. They just... seemed racing to heal. He leaned against the wall, sighing in relief at the flower. I had the will to survive, but not the means. Mom... it doesn't make sense, but I understand why you endured. Thinking of his mother's smile, he grinned. Only for his lips to freeze midway and his heart to stutter. He could see it as if she stood alive before him. He could hear her voice. But his chest didn't warm. His most precious memories, his treasures—they were there, but they felt... empty. Even the junk flower didn't represent her presence, but her absence. No, no, no. Gripping his head, locks of dark hair jutting between fingers curled like talons, he felt pain worse than the strike of the spawn who had shattered his arm. He tried to grasp the lost warmth, to remember the feeling, but only found the cold reality. It was gone. Forever. What had robbed him of the thing that kept him moving forward in this cursed world? Garrick's Black Cask, Tovin and ash, that cursed ledger, his broken promise to his mom... Terrified by what he had become, he foraged the snow for the only thing he could vent on: the ledger. His fingers found nothing except an unusable piece of his father's cloak that continued to dissolve at the edges. Instead, a soft light pulsed beside him. When he turned, he saw not the soggy ledger from yesterday, but one of fine leather and engraved arabesques, titled in gold, and releasing a smell of ancient beast he never knew existed. The Ledger of Shattered Truths With trembling fingers, he flipped the cover to the first page. The sky-blue ink felt heavy to read—the words heavier. Truth of endurance, anchor, cost... price. They drilled in his mind as he slid against the wall until the ground stopped him. Brannick's powers had a price. So did his survival. He paid without knowing, without a chance to negotiate. Was it the ledger? They didn't own one. Perhaps treasures like those he retrieved for Garrick were mediums to awaken powers? Unlikely. His father owned nothing before the mine collapsed, but still wrote about something awakening in him. Does the ledger show me what I paid? Or does it record what I become? What do stress and breaking mean? And how did it become like this? I can't let anyone discover it or notice that I have powers until I find out. A grumble tore through his thoughts. He tried to cling to them, but hunger stabbed at his stomach, reminding him that he hadn't eaten since yesterday evening. Speculations could wait until he fed himself. From the corner of his eye, he noticed a silhouette pass by the alley. People died for less than being seen wearing only bandages, and just thinking about being seen made him drop the ledger. Mysteriously, it stopped mid-fall and silently hovered beside him. Frowning, he gripped it and scrambled to Sister Harrow's shelter, glancing at the clock tower. It was around six A.M. At the edge of the alley, a woman leaned to see Kael's back better. "Did that book... disappear and reappear?" She muttered, rubbing her tired eyes. When she thought about leaving, her basket swung, and her steps took her insid