A Morning Like Any Other
Chapter 18: A Morning Like Any Other
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Eleanor woke to the soft glow of Alexandria's perpetual dawn, the golden light slipping through the curtains of her bedroom.
She didn't move immediately.
For a while, she just lay there, staring at the ceiling, listening to the stillness of her home.
The quiet had become familiar over the years. But sometimes, it felt too empty.
Letting out a slow sigh, she finally pushed herself up, running a hand through her brown-threaded hair as she swung her legs over the side of the bed.
'Another day'
Her feet touched the cool wooden floor, sending a small shiver up her spine.
"Cold cold cold."
Eleanor stretched her arms as she muttered to herself, her muscles faintly sore from regularly beating lucian. Ofcourse shewas training him.
She stood, padding across the room toward the small table near the window, where her coffee press and silver-rimmed cup sat waiting.
With practiced ease, she poured herself a fresh brew, the rich, slightly bitter aroma filling the air.
She lifted the cup to her lips, taking a slow sip. For a moment, she allowed herself to just exist.
Just her, her coffee, and the quiet of her home. Then, with a resigned sigh, she set the cup down.
"Time to start the day."
---
Eleanor walked toward her bathroom, unfastening the buttons of her loose nightshirt as she stepped inside.
The silver-lit walls reflected her image back at her, the warm glow casting soft shadows over her figure.
She undressed slowly, taking in her own reflection as she reached for the steaming bath.
Even after all these years, she was still in peak form—years of training and fighting had shaped her into someone strong, defined.
Her body was elegant yet powerful—a warrior's frame wrapped in the softness of a woman.
Her curves were well-proportioned, her skin smooth, her chest carrying the weight of herhuge-breasts, but marked with faint scars—reminders of battles long past.
Some people in outpost still liked to joke about her being too beautiful to be so terrifying. She had a figure that was, afterall irresistible to most men and even women.
"Hah~"
She let out a small chuckle at the thought.
"For dinner. Humm~Let's buy something good today." Thinking about something good to look forward to.She sank into the warm water, closing her eyes for a moment, letting the heat soak into her muscles.
As much as she loved her work, there were times when she just wanted to sit like this forever.
She thought about Lucian, about how frustrating and stupid, yet familiar he felt.
And then—without meaning to—her mind drifted to the past.
To her Avili.
Her fingers tightened slightly against the edges of the tub. She took a slow breath, pushing the memory away. "Its already been twenty years."
Twenty years since she was left alone.
She finished bathing, stepping out into the cool air and drying herself off.
By the time she tied her hair back, pulled on her usual black and silver attire, and stepped into the kitchen—the ghosts of the past had faded.
---
Eleanor cooked mechanically, her hands moving with ease as she sliced through fresh mushrooms, letting them sizzle in a hot pan.
The scent of herbs and lightly charred edges filled the space as she cracked an egg over the dish, letting it set just right.
She had learned to cook for one a long time ago.
The first few years after the war had been the worst. The silence of an empty house used to feel unbearable.
But now, Now it was just normal.
She sat at her dining table, cutting into the meal with slow, steady motions.
Her mind wandered back—not to Avili this time, but to her family.
To the faces she would never see again, To the home that had burned with them inside.
She had been just a child when the war came. When the vampires slaughtered her family—her parents, her brothers, her people.
The sight of them drinking her mother's blood while her father's body lay broken on the floor—
—at the face of avili, her childhood friend and her lover. His body was found but his head was not.
She forced the memory away.
Even now, after all these years, it was the one thing that could still make her stomach turn.
She took a slow breath, finishing the last bite of her food before standing up.
The past was done.
But it had shaped her into what she was.
And she would never forget it.
---
By the time Eleanor reached the Silver Order Outpost, the streets were already alive with the usual morning movement. She was late today.
Vendors were shouting prices, Silver Guards patrolled, and citizens moved through the city, preparing for the day.
She entered the outpost, nodding to a few familiar faces before heading straight to her usual training hall.
The first thing she did?Make coffee.
The second thing?Drink it in silence.
It was a ritual at this point—a few minutes of peace before the chaos of the day began.
She took slow sips, leaning against the training hall's wooden railing, her eyes staring into the empty space.
And after around ten minutes—
The doors creaked open, A familiar lazy presence walked in.
Eleanor sighed. 'Lucian.'
---
Lucian strolled in, his black cloak draped lazily over his shoulders, his dark hair as unkempt as always.
His expression—somewhere between mild exhaustion and mild amusement—was exactly the same as always.
Eleanor took one long sip of her coffee, then exhaled.
"And here we go."
Lucian stretched, rolling his shoulders as he looked around the empty training hall.
"Guess I'm early," he muttered.
Eleanor shot him a dry look.
"It's 9 AM."
Lucian grinned. "That's early for me."
Eleanor sighed.
She studied him for a moment, something unreadable passing through her mind.
He looked so much like him.
Avili.
The same dark, messy hair.
The same lazy yet sharp eyes.
The same warm, sarcastic personality.
It was uncanny.
For years, she had told herself that she would just stay alone, never even caring to take another student.
That she would never train someone again.
And yet…Here he was.
Forced by the higher authority, the first student she had taken in five years. And now she had grown attached to him in someway ot other.
And he reminded her of someone she had lost.
Eleanor sighed, setting down her empty coffee cup.
"Alright," she muttered, rolling her shoulders. "Let's get this over with."
Lucian raised an eyebrow. "Wow. You sound so excited."
Eleanor smirked. "You're going to suffer more than before today~."
Lucian sighed deeply. "Why do I even show up?"
Eleanor cracked her knuckles.
"Because I'll drag you here if you don't."
Lucian groaned.
And just like that, the morning truly began.
---------------
---
The morning chill still clung to the air inside the Silver Order Outpost's training hall, the faint glow of silver-runed lanterns casting soft light against the polished floors.
Lucian stood near the center of the room, rolling his shoulders, his breath steady but already preparing for what was about to come.
Eleanor, arms crossed, leaned against one of the pillars, her sharp blue eyes studying him with the look of someone about to deliver bad news.
Lucian sighed. "Alright. Just say it."
Eleanor tilted her head. "Say what?"
Lucian gave her a flat stare. "That you're going to try to kill me today."
Eleanor smirked, pushing off the pillar. "Oh? Finally catching on, are we?"
Lucian exhaled, rubbing the back of his neck. "Why do I even ask?"
Eleanor chuckled, walking toward him with measured steps, her cloak swaying behind her.
"Because deep down, you know it's necessary," she said simply. "And because, despite all your complaining, you actually want to improve."
Lucian clicked his tongue. "Tsk. Don't psychoanalyze me. It's annoying."
Eleanor grinned. "And yet, here you are, standing in front of me instead of taking a day off."
Lucian groaned. "You're impossible."
Eleanor clapped her hands together. "And you're slow. Get ready."
Lucian sighed deeply, pulling his stance together.
The day had barely begun, and he was already regretting everything.
---
It was a Grueling Start
Eleanor didn't waste any time.
The moment Lucian was in position, she lunged.
Not with full force—not yet—but fast enough that his instincts had to kick in immediately.
Lucian barely managed to sidestep, his breath sharpening as Eleanor's silver-coated hand slashed through the air where he had just been.
"Too slow," she said, voice calm but edged with expectation.
Lucian gritted his teeth and retaliated, aiming a kick at her side.
She twisted, effortlessly dodging, and flicked her wrist.
A pulse of silver energy snapped outward, hitting Lucian square in the chest.
The force sent him stumbling back, his feet sliding against the floor as he struggled to regain balance.
Eleanor didn't give him a second to recover. She was on him again, her movements precise, ruthless, unrelenting.
Lucian blocked the first few strikes, barely dodged a sweeping kick, but then—
He saw her left hand coming toward him and reacted instinctively, raising his arm to block—Only for her right fist to slam into his ribs.
Hard.
Lucian gasped, staggering backward, gripping his side. "Holy sh*t."
Eleanor sighed, shaking her head. "Fell for it again."
Lucian coughed. "Ah yes, shut up."
Eleanor smirked. "Not until you actually land a hit."
Lucian wiped the sweat from his forehead, rolling his shoulders.
"Alright. Fine."
If that's how she wanted to play—Then he'd adapt.
---
It was a Battle of Endurance for Lucian.
Minutes passed, Then an hour, Then two.
Lucian had lost count of how many times Eleanor had knocked him down, how many times he had barely dodged, how many times he had been forced to block and counter.
But he kept getting up. Every time.
And, to his credit, he was lasting longer than before.
His breathing was heavier, his muscles burned, his legs ached, but he was moving.
A bit Faster, and Sharper.
His silver energy—though still inconsistent—was starting to feel less foreign in his veins.
But Eleanor, She hadn't even broken a sweat.
Lucian hated that. And she knew it.
"You're thinking too much," she said, dodging another desperate attack with ease.
Lucian growled. "I'm thinking just fine."
Eleanor dodged again. "Oh? Then why haven't you hit me once?"
Lucian gritted his teeth.
'Because you're a damn monster, that's why.'
She was too fast, too precise.
Even when she wasn't using her full strength, it felt like she was always ten steps ahead.
Lucian forced himself to focus.
No more wasted energy, No more predictable patterns.
He waited—watched her movements carefully.
And then—He saw it.
A small opening.
---
Eleanor had been using the same fluid dodging motion every time he attacked.
A slight shift to the left, a pivot on her heel, a flick of silver energy to knock him off balance.
It was flawless.
But flawless meant predictable.
So Lucian faked his next strike, He adjusted his stance mid-motion, twisting his body at the last second, redirecting his attack—
And for the first time, Eleanor had to block.
Lucian's fist clashed against her forearm, the impact sending a sharp echo through the hall.
For a split second, she was actually pushed back. A grin appeared on Lucian face .
Eleanor tilted her head slightly, her blue eyes narrowing.
Then—she smirked.
"Oh no."
Before Lucian could react, she stepped forward—fast.
Her leg hooked behind his ankle, her hand pressed against his shoulder, and—
WHAM.
Lucian found himself slammed onto the floor, hard. He groaned, staring at the ceiling.
"That… was unnecessary."
Eleanor stood over him, arms crossed. "That was you getting cocky."
Lucian exhaled, rolling onto his side. "I finally hit you."
Eleanor smirked. "And look where it got you."
Lucian glared.
'I hate her so much right now.'
----
Lucian didn't stop, Despite the pain, Despite the exhaustion.
Despite the fact that Eleanor was relentless.
He kept pushing.
Kept adapting.
Kept finding openings—even if they were small.
And Eleanor, She was watching. She could see it.
The progress. The determination.
The way Lucian wasn't breaking.
He was still far from being truly strong.But he was getting there.
And maybe—just maybe—that was enough.
---
By the time they finally stopped, the training hall was filled with silence once more.
Lucian sat on the floor, breathing heavily, his entire body sore.
Eleanor stood nearby, taking a slow sip of her now lukewarm coffee.
She glanced at him, a small smirk playing on her lips.
"You did better today," she admitted.
Lucian let out a tired chuckle.
"That almost sounds like a compliment," he muttered.
Eleanor shrugged. "Maybe it is."
Lucian raised an eyebrow. "You feeling alright? You're almost being nice."
Eleanor scoffed. "Don't get used to it."
Lucian smiled, shaking his head.
Despite all the pain, exhaustion, and suffering—He felt good.
And Eleanor, watching him with quiet amusement, thought to herself—
'Maybe taking him as a student wasn't such a bad idea after all.'
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End of Chapter 18