"This is our stop," Evelyn said as the carriage driver hopped down and stood outside the door. The latch clicked, then he held it open for her.
As the door began to unlatch, Sisyphus’ form quickly began to melt. His robed body turned black and took on the viscosity of a thick liquid, shrinking into his seat like a pool of draining blood until he was gone. He lurked into the shadow of the carriage, then into the shadow of the driver, continuing from one patch of darkness to another until he was roughly ten meters ahead of Eve. Though completely concealed, Eve knew he remained nearby and, with considerable effort, could locate him by spotting the faint patch where the surrounding colors appeared duller than normal. Unknown to Sisyphus, someone within the manor had already detected him and simply allowed him to approach.
The well-dressed woman opened the front door, allowing the outside air to briefly fill the main room. A servant approached almost immediately and offered to take her outer coat and hat, both of which she handed over before dismissing him. Lucien sat in one of the high-backed chairs nearest the fireplace, his small frame nearly swallowed by the dark upholstery. His cane rested across his knees beneath two still hands, something within its polished length giving a faint, slow breath. His golden eyes lifted toward Evelyn as she entered, lingering on her for only a moment before shifting past her shoulder toward an apparently empty portion of the room.
“Welcome back, Evelyn.” His gaze settled upon the dulled colors moving through the chamber, his expression composed despite the sharp interest entering his eyes. “You take a considerable sum from my accounts, then return with a gentleman hidden inside the shadows.” One small hand adjusted upon the cane. “I presume the two matters are related. You may tell him he has already been noticed.”
"Your placement certainly alarmed me earlier, Lucien. Asking me to grab Vale was not something I expected. I could state it was mildly unfair of you to ask me to go alone, don’t you think?" Evelyn looked mildly annoyed, then motioned to Sisyphus casually. "Besides, it’s hardly my fault he decided to run."
Lucien’s golden eyes returned to Evelyn, his expression remaining composed despite the faint tightening of his fingers around the cane. He had known Vale had barricaded himself within the abandoned hospital and surrounded himself with hired guards. Sending Evelyn alone had never been a harmless errand, even if Lucien had evidently believed it remained within her capabilities.
“Unfair, perhaps. Impossible, no.” His gaze shifted toward the distortion where Sisyphus concealed himself. “I expected Vale to resist being collected. I did not expect him to flee so effectively that you would find it necessary to purchase additional assistance.”
“It certainly isn’t impossible, though I thought you might be pleased with my resourcefulness. You complimented me on that a month ago, or did you forget?” She almost rolled her eyes. Almost. To an outsider, this woman spoke to what appeared to be a child, and one who sat with quite the ornate-looking cane in his hand.
Lucien’s gaze lingered upon Evelyn, then shifted once more toward the concealed presence she had brought with her. The faint tightening around his eyes eased into something closer to dry understanding. “I have not forgotten. Though resourcefulness is generally praised after it produces a result.” He rested both hands atop the head of his cane.
Sisyphus’ emotions were considerably more complicated. By being able to detect him at all, Lucien had revealed himself to be stronger than Sisyphus, which made him an excellent ally for defending his client while simultaneously leaving the Shadow Ascetic feeling extraordinarily vulnerable. His previous Sequence had allowed him to detect the spirits and approximate strength of other individuals, an ability that had proven as dangerous as it was useful. Evelyn herself possessed a strange uniqueness that Sisyphus had noticed before, and for one foolish instant he wondered whether the apparent child before him possessed something similar. He turned his perception toward Lucien and immediately froze.
His spirituality screamed at him.
I MUST NOT LOOK.
I MUST NOT LOOK.
I MUST NOT LOOK.
IF I LOOK, I WILL DIE.
Sisyphus trembled within his concealed state, which was clearly not concealed from the person sitting before him. Looking directly at a god would kill a mortal, while perceiving the unfiltered spirit of a demigod could produce much the same result, and the child in the chair was unmistakably the latter. He had nearly killed himself simply by looking too closely. Cursing his pathway and the perception it had given him, Sisyphus forced himself to breathe until the shaking began to ease, maintaining his Lurk so he would not spill visibly onto the floor. He would only reveal himself if Eve ordered it.
Lucien’s gaze settled more precisely upon the distorted patch of shadow, his golden eyes narrowing by the smallest degree. The trembling had not escaped him, nor had the direction of Sisyphus’ attention immediately before it began. One finger tapped once against the ornate head of his cane. “You should resist examining things you have not been invited to understand.” His tone remained calm, almost conversational, though the warning beneath it was unmistakable.
The woman glanced between them for a moment, frowning at the heavy unease in the room. "You do not have to be a shadow in this house, Sisyphus. Lucien is my patron… well, I believe that is the word for it, right…?" She shared this casually, then stepped deeper into the room. One of the servants approached her, and she whispered a request for dinner to be brought upstairs in two hours before allowing him to retreat to another part of the house.
Lucien watched the servant depart before returning his attention to Evelyn, a faint trace of amusement entering his otherwise composed expression. “Patron is sufficient, if somewhat incomplete.” His golden eyes shifted toward the concealed man once more.
Sisyphus hesitantly revealed himself. The shadows in the corner pooled together into a wet, viscous mass that gradually took the shape of a robed man, his face hidden beneath an unnaturally dark hood. He emerged midway along the outer wall between Lucien and Eve, looking toward Evelyn while refusing even to glance toward the half of the room HE occupied. His body language still betrayed how badly the encounter had shaken him, though his posture slowly stabilized as the immediate spiritual pressure passed.
“A pleasure to meet you, sir. I’ll be sure to protect your charge.”
He did not turn toward Lucien when he spoke. The downside of his perception ability was that turning it off was difficult, and Sisyphus had no desire to court death a second time. Lucien regarded the robed man without taking offense at the refusal. If anything, the restraint appeared to earn a measure of approval, his fingers remaining loosely folded over the head of his cane.
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“See that you do.” His tone was calm, carrying neither threat nor warmth. “Evelyn is capable of protecting herself, but capability is not the same as invulnerability. You need not look at me to understand what will be expected of you.”
"Tomorrow we will be visiting a Notary to finalize our work agreement," Evelyn spoke gently, coming to stand directly behind Lucien. Her arms rested on the back of his chair as she glanced down at the childlike figure. "'She' has continued to be useful in that regard." Evelyn spoke this last sentence almost under her breath so that only Lucien could hear.
Lucien’s gaze remained forward, though one golden eye shifted faintly toward Evelyn as she leaned over the back of his chair. He understood the distinction immediately. A mundane notary could witness signatures, while the woman Evelyn referred to could ensure the agreement carried weight beyond ink and paper. “Then there should be little room for either party to misunderstand the terms.” His fingers settled more firmly over the head of his cane.
Sisyphus remained visible in the room, though he deliberately looked away from the other two occupants. He knew they were whispering but made no attempt to overhear them. More pressing was the realization that he needed to advance to the next Sequence. In one or two more Sequences, he should no longer be at risk of dying merely by accidentally glancing at a demigod, though he was not entirely certain of that. Unfortunately, the digestion of his current potion had been slow, and the ingredients required for advancement would be expensive.
Seeing Lucien motion her away from himself and out of Sisyphus’ view, Evelyn did not speak any further. Instead, she stepped away from the boy and toward the stairwell. "This way, Sisyphus. I’ll show you to your room while you’re here."
He followed in his leather boots, privately acknowledging that it had been some time since he had moved with solid feet while working instead of constantly lurking through shadows. Remaining inside the darkness seemed to improve his potion digestion for reasons he still did not fully understand. Evelyn glanced at him as they climbed. "He owes me, well… he sort of owes me." She guessed at his expression, watching him for a moment before continuing upward with one hand on the railing. "It’s much too complicated to go into why, though."
She paused halfway up the stairs as if tired, then continued. "Lucien won’t kill you, not unless you do something stupid. I’m sure you could have figured that out by now."
The conversation fell silent for several steps. Sisyphus found himself wondering why Lucien did not simply guard Evelyn himself. Perhaps the demigod considered his time too valuable to personally watch over every underling, though the humor of a child being the stronger half of the metaphorical hand-holding was not lost on him. He simply was not in the mood to laugh about it.
“Thank you for the reassurance. This display of mine…” He stopped long enough to take a breath, visibly embarrassed by the earlier reaction as he searched for the proper wording. “…will not affect my ability in combat. It’s simply a negative reaction to detecting godhood. If we were to fight a demigod tomorrow, we would die the instant they willed it. I wouldn’t have the time to fall apart.”
Sisyphus hesitated before speaking again. “I’m offering 400 pounds for the contact information of a trusted psychiatrist willing to take a new client.”
The amount of money attached to the request, combined with his tone, made it clear he was not referring to a mundane psychiatrist. Much like his earlier reference to a Notary, the word carried the implication of a specific Beyonder Sequence. His body language also betrayed another concern entirely. Sisyphus appeared worried that what Evelyn had witnessed downstairs might cause her to cancel their contract, though he had no idea whether asking for psychiatric help improved or worsened those odds.
Reaching the top of the stairs, she turned toward him with one eyebrow slightly raised, mild amusement softening her expression. "I’m sure I could ask Lucien to help find one if it’s so necessary. He might ask for the 350 back, though." She snorted, then continued down the hallway. "We won’t be having anything to do with demigods or whatnot tomorrow. The man we’re talking to and possibly nabbing is quite the regular gentleman. No clue about his supposed guards, though."
Sisyphus followed with some of his confidence returning. He would gladly trade the payment from this job for access to a trusted Psychiatrist. Tomorrow’s work should be considerably easier than what he had endured today, or so he allowed himself to think with a trace of smugness. Guards at this level were often mundane humans, though someone of Vale’s apparent resources might have one to three low-Sequence Beyonders among his protection. Even that remained comfortably within the sort of danger Sisyphus understood.
“That’s good to hear.”
Evelyn nodded and continued down the hallway. Paintings decorated the well-furnished corridor, most depicting scenery rather than people, until she eventually stopped before one of the doors. She opened it just far enough to check whether any servants were still cleaning, then pushed it wider to reveal a modest bedroom.
"As you requested, across from mine. The room directly across is my actual bedroom. The door next to it leads to my study."
“Thank you.”
The supposedly modest room was still nicer than the place where Sisyphus currently lived. Strangely, he found himself preferring his own smaller and simpler residence despite the difference in comfort. His potion digested slightly at the thought, though he did not understand why. The sensation distracted him only briefly before practical concerns returned.
“Do you… or your patron, mind if I summon my assistants? I’d like to have one in the shadows of all three rooms.”
His voice had become hesitant again, as though he were unaccustomed to asking permission for something he normally would have done without discussion. Lucien’s presence in the manor changed that calculation considerably. "Not sure. I would have you ask Lucien, but… I feel like you’d rather not set foot in the same room as him again." Evelyn leaned against the doorway. "I do not mind myself, though, as long as they do not leave the rooms."
She crossed her arms as uncertainty passed briefly over her expression. Sisyphus nodded, realizing he was getting somewhat ahead of himself. Their contract had not even been formally signed, yet he already wanted the protective rituals in place as soon as possible.
“Will there be any more matters for tonight?”
His posture made the exhaustion obvious. He needed rest after what had happened downstairs, though there was enough resolve left in him to continue if Evelyn required anything further. Her eyes scanned over him one final time, almost as though memorizing the man standing before her, before she straightened in the doorway and stepped back into the hall.
"Not from me. Dinner will be delivered to your room in… I suppose thirty minutes or so. Do try to rest, though I doubt tomorrow will be more than a walk in the park for you."
Sisyphus nodded. “Inform me if I am required.”
He slowly closed the door and breathed in relief, confident that a quiet evening would leave him fully recovered before morning. Thoughts of the bloodshed that might accompany tomorrow’s work appeared almost immediately, but he interrupted them and silently chastised himself. He must not grow to enjoy using his abilities. They were tools rather than extensions of himself, and maintaining that distinction was one of the principles he believed necessary to remain sane. Losing control was, after all, the most common death awaiting Beyonders foolish enough to forget what their powers could turn them into.
The promised dinner arrived later that evening. It was better than anything he could have purchased from a pub or other public establishment, consisting largely of meat and vegetables alongside an unopened bottle of wine. The meal felt almost like a mild apology, though less from Lucien himself than from the staff of the manor. Sisyphus accepted it, and after the servant departed, he withdrew a topaz pendulum with the intention of divining whether the food was safe.
Habit nearly won before he stopped himself. If the occupants of this house wished him harm, poison seemed an unnecessarily indirect method, and openly performing a divination over their food might offend either his client or her patron if discovered. Sisyphus returned the pendulum to his pocket and ate at the small table with a glass of wine instead. Feeding him had never been an explicit part of Evelyn’s contract, and he could have survived on hard bread and dried meat without complaint, but that did not prevent him from appreciating the meal.
By the time he finished, the earlier encounter with Lucien no longer left him feeling physically unsettled. It was already late, however, and tomorrow’s meeting would take place in the late morning. Once the contract had been signed, Sisyphus intended to perform two separate preparation rituals, recover his spirituality afterward, and then make himself ready for whatever the afternoon brought.