Shadows in the Fog

Chapter 14: Shadows in the Fog

---

Almost another month went by, Lucian kept training under Eleanor. Slowly but surely gaining control over his body and silver energy.

Just like normally today was also a day of lcuian getting his ass rubbed to extreme. In the name of training.

-----

Lucian's breath came in short, sharp bursts, his muscles burning as he forced himself to move faster, strike harder, react quicker.

The training hall was dimly lit, the silver-lined floor glowing faintly under the weight of the energy surging through it.

Eleanor stood across from him, watching with unwavering focus, her arms crossed as he threw another silver-infused punch toward the training dummy. The impact rippled through his arm, but it wasn't strong enough.

"Again," Eleanor ordered.

Lucian gritted his teeth.

He had been at this for hours.

Absorbing silver energy was one thing, but controlling it? Letting it enhance his body without letting it overwhelm him? That was something else entirely.

He focused, pulling the silver essence deeper into his bloodstream.

It wasn't just about channeling it—it was about letting it flow naturally.

His next strike hit the dummy with more force, the impact cracking the reinforced wood slightly.

Eleanor nodded approvingly. "Better."

Lucian panted, sweat dripping down his forehead. "Only 'better'? I was expecting applause."

Eleanor smirked. "Maybe when you stop looking like you're about to collapse."

Lucian groaned but pushed forward.

For the next few hours, Eleanor drilled him relentlessly.

Hand-to-hand combat. Silver energy control. Reaction training.

By the time they finally stopped, the golden hues of Alexandria's eternal dawn had faded into the eerie, mist-filled evening.

Lucian collapsed onto the floor, his body aching in ways he didn't know were possible.

Eleanor leaned against a wooden bench, sipping from her usual Silver Cocoa Coffee.

-------

As the golden hues of Alexandria's eternal dawn had begun to shift, fading into the deeper fog of the evening. Inside the outpost's training hall, the air was thick with the faint hum of silver energy, the lingering echoes of battle stances, dodges, and counterattacks still fresh in Lucian's muscles.

His body ached everywhere.

Today had been brutal.

Not because Eleanor was being harsher than usual—but because he had been pushing himself harder than ever.

His footwork had gotten smoother, his strikes more precise, and his control over silver energy had stabilized.

But it still wasn't enough.

Lucian exhaled, rolling his sore shoulders as he grabbed a towel from the side bench, wiping away the sweat clinging to his skin. His black shirt was damp, his arms and legs felt like lead, and yet—

He felt stronger than before.

Across the room, Eleanor stood with her coffee mug in hand, watching him with a faint, unreadable expression.

"you know?You're getting there faster than i thought," she finally said, breaking the silence.

Lucian raised an eyebrow. "Oh? No insults this time?"

Eleanor smirked. "Don't get used to it."

Lucian chuckled, tossing the towel onto the bench.

Just as he was about to say something else, Eleanor spoke again.

"Your first phase of training is almost over."

Lucian blinked. "Wait—what?"

Eleanor leaned against the wall, tilting her head slightly.

"Soon, you'll need to decide," she said. "Which department you want to join. Or if you even want to be part of the outpost at all."

Lucian exhaled slowly, letting her words sink in.

It wasn't a surprise—he had known this was coming.

But hearing it out loud from hermade it feel… real.

And it was her first time outright saying it to him, but now that he thought about it…

He had spent weeks training, surviving, getting stronger—but the real question was, what was he going to do with that strength?

Eleanor watched him carefully, giving him space to think.

Then, she sighed and grabbed her coat.

"Go home and rest," she said. "You'll need it."

Lucian gave her a small smirk. "You sound sentimental."

Eleanor snorted. "Don't push your luck."

Lucian exhaled and slowly got to his feet, he chuckled lightly and turned toward the exit.

Despite his exhaustion, something about tonight felt different.

But he couldn't quite place why.

---

The moment Lucian stepped outside the outpost, the familiar cool mist wrapped around him. The streets of Alexandria were quieter at this hour, with only a few people still wandering about.

Most of the vendors had already closed their stalls, the silver-lit street lamps glowing faintly in the thick fog.

Lucian breathed in deeply, letting the crisp air fill his lungs.

This part of the city had started to feel like home.

The distant chatter of merchants, the faint hum of silver-powered carriages rolling by, and even the occasional laughs from taverns created a strange, comfortable atmosphere.

As he walked, he passed a small bakery, its doors still open despite the late hour.

The scent of warm bread and spiced tea drifted out, momentarily making him consider stopping by.

But his body was too sore, and his only real thought was getting home.

Further down the road, he passed by a few Silver Guard members, their silver-lined uniforms barely visible through the haze.

One of them—a young woman—nodded at him in recognition.

"Late training?" she asked.

Lucian smirked. "What else?"

She chuckled but didn't press further, continuing her patrol.

Everything felt normal.

But deep down, he knew better.

Because lately, the city had started to feel… strange.

Or maybe he was the one changing.

Lucian rubbed his temple, brushing it off as exhaustion

Lucian exhaled, keeping his expression neutral as he picked up his pace.

By the time he finally reached his apartment building, it was already dark. Mist was thicker than usual, swallowing the golden light of the street lamps. Shadows stretched unnaturally across the stone road, shifting too slowly.

It left behind a lingering unease.

'im too exhausted aren't i?'

---

As Lucian entered his apartment building, the feeling had returned.

A strange, lingering unease.

The moment he stepped toward his door, the street behind him felt too quiet.

He stopped.

Listened.

The distant sounds of Alexandria's nightlife had grown… muffled.

The fog around the buildings felt denser, pressing in on the streets like it was alive.

Lucian turned his head slightly, scanning the area.

Nothing.

Yet, the feeling of being watched crept up his spine like a slow, crawling whisper.

He clenched his jaw, forcing himself to move.

"You're just tired. It's just the cold."

He unlocked his door, stepping inside quickly before shutting it behind him.

The second he was inside, just like it came the unease vanished.

But it didn't leave his mind.

---

Lucian tossed his cloak onto the chair, stretching slightly as he exhaled.

His apartment was silent.

But something about the silence tonight felt different.

His boots echoed just a little too much against the floor.

The air was a bit too still.

The shadows in the corners of the room seemed to linger just a second too long before settling into place.

Lucian ignored the sensation.

"Because of that intense training----You're imagining things."

Shaking off the thought, he headed to the washroom, turning on the warm water.

As the steam filled the room, he stepped under the heat of the shower, letting the warmth seep into his muscles.

As steam filled the space, he let the hot water wash over his skin, easing the soreness from training.

Yet even with the heat surrounding him, he couldn't shake the cold creeping along his spine.

—even under the comforting heat, he couldn't shake the feeling that something was off.

The water dripped too loudly.

The air felt heavier than usual.

At one point, he swore he saw a shadow shift behind the fogged-up mirror.

But when he wiped the steam away—nothing was there.

Lucian exhaled, rubbing the back of his neck.

"I really need sleep."

He dried off quickly, dressed in loose nightwear, and moved to the kitchen.

Tonight's meal was simple—leftover roasted meat with fresh bread and a bowl of warmed broth.

But as he ate, the apartment remained silent.

Too silent.

Even the usual distant city noises felt muffled.

---

Despite the unease, exhaustion eventually won. Lucian finally collapsed onto his bed, exhaustion took over almost immediately.

Lucian let out a heavy sigh of relief while hugging the bed, sinking into the familiar firm mattress.

And almost instantly—he was asleep.

The city outside was silent, blanketed in fog.

The night stretched on without disturbance…

-----

Time went by. Lucian slept with his mouth open, drooling in his comfort.

The city outside remained eerily silent, and as he drifted into sleep, the weight of training, thoughts, and unanswered questions faded into the darkness.

Then—

Lucian's eyes snapped open.

The room was pitch black.

His throat felt dry.

"Water."

His body moved on instinct.

His throat felt unusually dry, a strange tightness pressing against his chest.

"Urgh."

He sat up, Still half-asleep rubbing his temple, and turned toward the small bedside table where his water flask sat.

But just as he lifted it to drink—

—he froze.

His breath caught in his throat.

His entire body went cold.

There, on the wall opposite his bed—

A shadow.

Not his.

Not normal.

It was tall, unnaturally thin, its edges flickering like black smoke, And it was watching him.

Lucian's blood turned ice-cold.

His breath hitched.

He couldn't move, Couldn't think, Couldn't blink.

The figure didn't shift. Didn't fade.

It just stood there. Waiting.

Lucian's fingers trembled as he slowly reached for the lamp beside his bed.

The shadow remained still.

Watching.

Waiting.

Lucian's hand closed around the switch.

He flicked it on—

The room was suddenly bathed in dim-golden light.

The shadow was gone.

Lucian's pulse thundered in his ears.

He turned his head slowly, scanning every inch of the room.

Nothing.

But the air was heavy, suffocating, as if something had just been there.

Lucian's fingers clenched.

"That… wasn't my imagination."

This was the second time, second timein a long while—he felt truly unsettled.

And somehow, he knew—

Something had entered his home tonight.

And it had been watching.

For what?

He didn't know.

But as he sat there, heart still racing, he realized something else, The feeling wasn't completely gone.

'There is no point hiding this, my life comes first.' lucian's thoughts raced.

'And im sure the outpost or the silver guards, someone will do something about it.'

Lcuian decided to tell everything to Eleanor and the others first thing tomorrow morning .

Somewhere, hidden in the depths of the fog-choked city,

Something was still watching.

And it was waiting for him to notice.

-----------------

---

Lucian sat on the edge of his bed, staring blankly at the wall.

His eyes were bloodshot, his body stiff from spending the entire night sitting in the same position. He hadn't slept.

Not even for a second.

Even after the shadow vanished, the unease never left.

Every time he closed his eyes, he felt like something was watching him, waiting for the darkness to return.

And so, he stayed awake.

Even as the night stretched into the early hours of morning, even as his body begged for rest, he refused to close his eyes.

It wasn't just fear.

It was instinct.

Something had been there.

And he wasn't about to let his guard down again.

As soon as the sky brightened slightly, signaling the start of another day in Alexandria's perpetual dawn, Lucian finally moved.

He got up, dragging himself toward the washroom.

The moment he saw his reflection in the mirror, he let out a low groan.

His dark hair was messier than usual, sticking up at odd angles. His eyes were hollow, dark circles forming under them. His skin looked a shade paler, and his expression was somewhere between half-dead and fully miserable.

He splashed cold water on his face, running a hand through his hair.

"Fantastic. I look like I crawled out of a grave."

After washing up, he moved to the kitchen, pouring himself a strong cup of Silver Cocoa Coffee.

The sharp bitterness hit his tongue as he took a slow sip, the warmth spreading through his chest.

It wasn't enough to chase away the exhaustion, but at least it kept him on his feet.

Checking the small clock on his wall, he noted the time—6:00 AM.

It was early. Earlier than he ever bothered to leave for the outpost.

But he needed answers.

Without another thought, he grabbed his cloak, tossed it over his shoulders, and stepped out into the misty streets.

---

A Ride Through the Fog

The morning fog was thick—thicker than usual.

Lucian exhaled, rubbing his temples as he walked down the street. His limbs felt heavy, exhaustion pressing down on him with every step.

Walking to the outpost felt too much today.

So, instead, he flagged down a carriage.

The silver-rimmed vehicle hummed faintly as it rolled to a stop beside him, its energy-powered wheels flickering under the soft glow of the city's morning lanterns.

Lucian climbed inside, slumping against the cushioned seat with a deep sigh.

As the carriage moved forward, he thought back to the night before.

The shadow.

The cold, suffocating air.

The way his instincts screamed at him not to move.

"It wasn't a dream."

It had been real.

And no matter how much he tried to rationalize it, something deep inside him whispered—

It wasn't over.

---

By the time the carriage stopped in front of the Silver Order outpost, the faint traces of dawn had settled fully into the city.

Lucian stepped out, rolling his shoulders, trying to shake off the weight of exhaustion.

As soon as he walked inside, he was met with a familiar voice.

"Lucian?"

He turned to see Reze standing behind the reception desk, staring at him with a mix of shock and concern.

He raised a hand lazily in greeting. "Morning."

Reze frowned. "You're here early."

Lucian shrugged, trying to act casual. "Couldn't sleep."

Reze narrowed her eyes. "No offense, but you look like you just lost a fight with the undead."

Lucian let out a tired chuckle. "Feels like it too."

Reze's frown deepened. "What happened?"

Lucian hesitated. He didn't want to worry her, but at the same time, keeping this to himself wasn't an option.

"Something… weird happened last night," he admitted.

Reze crossed her arms. "Weird how?"

Lucian sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. "Just something minor. Not a big deal."

Reze immediately saw through him.

"You're lying."

Lucian let out a dry laugh. "Alright, fine, maybe I am. But I'm fine. Really."

Reze didn't look convinced.

Still, she didn't press further—at least, not yet.

Instead, she asked, "You looking for Captain Eleanor?"

Lucian shook his head. "She's not here yet, right?"

Reze nodded. "She usually comes around 7:30. You're way too early for her."

Lucian sighed. Of course.

"Then what about the head of the outpost?" he asked.

Reze raised an eyebrow. "You want to talk to Tigen?"

Lucian nodded.

Reze looked at him for a moment before sighing. "Well, you're in luck. He's here. He usually stays overnight at the outpost."

Lucian exhaled in relief. "Good."

As he turned to leave, he heard Reze mutter under her breath—

"What the hell did this guy get into now?"

---

Lucian walked through the long corridors of the outpost, heading toward the upper floor offices.

Reaching the head's room, he knocked.

A voice answered almost immediately.

"Come in."

Lucian stepped inside.

Tigen Foristo, the head of the outpost, sat behind a mahogany desk, a newspaper in one hand and a coffee mug in the other.

His light gray hair was slightly messy, his deep-set golden eyes filled with quiet intelligence as he lowered the paper and looked up at Lucian.

Tigen raised an eyebrow. "Well, this is a surprise."

Lucian straightened slightly. "Good morning, sir."

Tigen set his coffee down, resting his hands on the desk.

"You almost never come up here," he mused. "And I don't believe we've had that many direct conversations yet."

Lucian nodded. "Yeah… sorry for the sudden visit."

Tigen waved a hand dismissively. "No need for apologies. But since you're here, I assume something's wrong?"

Lucian inhaled deeply before nodding.

And then, he told him everything.

The feeling of being watched.

The unnatural silence of the night.

The shadow on his wall.

Tigen listened silently, his expression unreadable.

But as Lucian continued, he noticed something.

Slowly, the head's expression changed.

The light amusement in his eyes faded.

The usual calm, composed demeanor stiffened slightly.

By the time Lucian finished, Tigen let out a slow, heavy sigh.

A silence stretched between them.

Then, finally, Tigen spoke.

"Don't worry about it."

Lucian frowned. "That's it?"

Tigen gave him a measured look.

"I'll send a team to check the area at night," he said. "For now, act like normal. Continue your training. And if anything happens again, report it immediately."

Lucian narrowed his eyes.

He didn't believe for a second that Tigen was unconcerned.

There was something in his tone—something careful, deliberate.

Like he knew more than he was letting on.

But Lucian also knew pushing for more answers wouldn't work.

So, for now, he simply nodded.

"…Alright."

Tigen leaned back in his chair. "Good. Now get some rest. You look like hell."

Lucian chuckled dryly.

As he turned to leave, one thought lingered in his mind.

Tigen knew something.

And whatever it was—

It wasn't something he wanted Lucian to know.

---

End of Chapter 14