How to Throw Off a Tail

Requiem of the Moth S02 C06

Content warnings¹

As soon as Yun leaves the quarter of drip families, of communal bath houses, taverns warm with camaraderie and hole-in-the-wall eateries, he knows he is being tailed.

Out of the corner of his right eye, he sees someone flitting from one shadow to the next. Footsteps stop when he stops, pretending to contemplate a fine clothing shop, even as other passers-by give him a wide berth. The tells are almost comically obvious, theatrics put on for his enjoyment or agitation.

He regrets meeting Usira alone, with no puppets to serve as decoys or run for help—concern for his image will do him no good when he's dead, bleeding out in some dirty back alley.

There's no use in trying to throw the tail off. If they know to follow him, the honourable Vessi, they know his office address too. When he reaches it, he slips inside, bolting the door and asking Zhiva to heat up the morning's stale water. "Master?" she asks.

As usual, he ignores her question. While she stokes the fire, he crouches beside her, admiring the delicate work of her hands: each finger long, thin, dexterous enough to grasp and hold tea leaves, flowers, cutting knives. He contemplates whether he wasted a lot of time constructing the perfect servant when he could've been building the perfect soldier instead.

The tea settles his stomach and he loses himself in paperwork. He knows he can't elude his pursuers forever but by the Deep, he will try.

He exhausts his stores of water and liquor before retiring to the adjoining chamber. It's not his quarters in the Noe mansion but there's a cot he has already spent many a harried night on. Most importantly, the chamber has no openings except that one door to the office.

He has just drifted into haphazard slumber when there is a knock.

Yun jolts upright, nearly tumbling off the cot but catching himself with a nasty crack of two fingers on the metal ledge. The knocker is already striding in and closing the door behind them.

"Zhiva, Zhiven!"

"They're sleeping. Wouldn't want them to disturb our little talk." A curiously androgynous voice. When the intruder removes the black mask, however, her facial features are soft, her eyes large amber moons. Black from head to toe, her tunic and trousers nevertheless reveal taut muscles. White hair is pinned tightly to her head, no jewellery to mark her social status, no weapons—that he can detect.

She is a stranger but there is only one viable possibility. "All this, just to collect your dues?"

Ulan's smile is a knife's edge. "Well met, Noe Yun. I know you're enjoying it at least a little."

He tugs his robe tighter over his chest, reties his belt to hide his unease. How long has her organization watched him? Is she the only one assigned to him or are there more? "You said you would answer my questions."

"I never said anything of the sort." Her diction is sparse, sharp but also fine. A fellow clan member, or merely a mirror of his own customs and habits? Then she sits on his cot and in the narrow space, she's practically straddling him. "I will, however, indulge you for a few drops, to commemorate our first meeting."

"Who are you?"

"A member of Ithreyesh." Sunshot. There is some irony in the name although he can't pinpoint what exactly it is. More worrying than that is that he has never heard of it before. Not a whisper. She tugs at his belt, as if admiring the fine embroidery—white on white, tastefully modest.

Rolling his eyes, Yun sits up. If the mysterious woman who has snuck into his sleeping chamber wants to play that game, it would only be polite to oblige. Slowly, he lifts both hands and combs disheveled strands of hair out of his face, retying his ponytail. Barring his sweaty neck but also his burned cheek to what little light there is.

She doesn't flinch, doesn't even blink. Instead, she gazes on with the hunger of a starving child.

"What is it that Ithreyesh wants with me? We cannot be your only sponsor."

"No secret organization can survive on one or two sponsors alone." Two fingers follow the seams of his robe where they meet over his clavicle. It's only one layer of thin silk over his skin. Skin that is slowly warming.

Yun folds his hands across his chest and waits. Ulan rocks back in momentary defeat. "With Vylira, we could speak freely because she shared our goals, our values. You must understand that we're still hesitant about your... personal allegiance."

"Your values? Let's see..." Yun's mind latches onto that particular puzzle, glad for the excuse to ignore an entirely different question: How much do they know about his connection to a certain popular moth catcher? "They must be delicate enough to cause public disquiet if your organization became widely known. A need for secrecy but also active recruitment and maintenance of sponsors... I'm guessing what you're working for must be disadvantageous for the noble and wealthy classes. Social equality. Rights for commoners. A shift away from economic monopoly. Possibly even a council of commoners as well as nobles."

With every point he ticks off on his fingers, Ulan's expression darkens. "Fine, no need to show off. That quick mind is exactly why we hoped you would be open to continuing the relationship we developed with Vylira."

And to what use will you put that quick mind? He doesn't ask, refusing to learn something he might be targeted for knowing later on. "Will you leave if I show off some more?"

"No," she says, suddenly grinning. "I am still feeling you out but what I have seen so far is promising."

"My resistance to your values?" Yun arches one brow. "I doubt Ithreyesh will be happy to have me instead of dear Vylira." Still, that Vy should have been an idealist... it bugs him. It's a side of her he has never noticed, or perhaps never allowed himself to notice. In many ways, their relationship was an easier one when he was still convinced she wanted to poison him.

"I have high expectations." When Ulan leans forward, her thighs press against his groin in a way that is decidedly not coincidental.

Yun discovers that his cot can be surprisingly warm after all. "You will be disappointed," he warns.

"You cannot disappoint me." Her face is close, her amber eyes huge. Something soft and hot touches his scar. Licks it. He freezes. When it disappears, only a woodsy scent lingers in the air.

Ulan is gone. Yun jumps up and bursts into the adjoining room which takes more effort than it should. Zhiva and Zhiven turn towards him expectantly, two perfectly ordinary puppets waiting for commands from their creator. If interrogated, they will claim they have heard nothing, seen no one enter or leave all night. On his desk, he finds a fresh supply note addressed to the treasury, granting the note holder a certain quantity of money in coin or raw resources, in his own handwriting. Its copy will arrive at the treasury first thing in the morning.

Author Notes

This season of Requiem has been more Usira's show than Yun's so far. In part, it is to balance out last season which I feel has been more about Yun and his world. Now I want to show more of Usira's family, his environment, his values etc. Another reason, however, has something to do with my relationship with the genre of political intrigue.

I enjoy fantasy stories that are all about intrigue, with only a sprinkling of action at best. One of my favorite novel series is the Empire Trilogy by Raymond E. Feist and Janny Wurts, a sprawling political intrigue in an Asian-inspired setting². I've always admired its worldbuilding, not only the geography but also the cultural, political and economic aspects. Throughout the novels, the protagonist Mara not only grows into her leadership role as the only surviving lady of her noble house but also takes an interest in trade, which ultimately contributes far more to the wealth and success of her house than any glorious war campaigns. Her efforts to negotiate and create monopolies are an engaging part of the story. Compared to a work such as the Empire Trilogy, I can't help but feel like an impostor. How can I write about fictional politics and economy if I'm not even interested in the real-world thing?

The answer, of course, is: by learning just enough to be able to craft a believable setting. There are many specific resources out there. I shall keep putting in the work. And I would appreciate any and all advice you might have about writing politics and economy in a (low) fantasy setting!

1. Light mentions of sexual activity (nothing explicit)

2. Asian-inspired but original. The sky is green, for example, and there is unique fauna and flora.