The Ends

Requiem of the Moth S03 C08

Content warnings¹

“I apologise for ambushing you like this, at this time, but this cannot wait. You are the only one I can confess to.”

Noe Shuli invites her guest to take a seat in the armchair. Her puppet, who has been with her for twenty years, serves tea so strong, its scent alone would wake one from deepest slumber—just how Shuli likes her tea. She waits until Zakiva has taken a sip. “Not at all, I am delighted at this rare visit from you. Besides, I’ve supported you through difficult times before. What is it?”

“As you know, we are struggling. Our reputation has suffered a heavy blow and as a consequence, our partners have been doubtful about continuing their business with us. A number of investors have withdrawn. We are facing a financial crisis.”

This is not news to Shuli. With any luck, her countermeasures will come to fruition soon. “I am confident we will pull out of this crisis too.”

Zakiva, not meeting her friend’s gaze, observes the puppet instead: a female servant with round cheeks and small black eyes. “I am afraid there is more to it than that. I have been careless with our money, which has added to our difficulties. You see, as clan head, I… the constant pressure, it is… difficult to escape. I delight in what small pleasures I can but these pleasures, you see, they have become costly too.”

Shuli follows her gaze. As the only Noe who doesn’t enjoy beautiful faces on her puppets, she can’t claim to understand Zakiva. “I hear your daughters hardly ever attend the social gatherings they are invited to. They always stay cooped up in their workshop.”

“The large, well-appointed workshop I gifted to them.” Zakiva nods. “I am glad you understand. They are talented, if not as talented as him. I am unable to resist the allure their creations are endowed with but I admit this cannot go on. It is hurting our clan. It shames me but I have come to ask your help.”

Shuli’s hand twitches. If it were her son confessing his misdoings, she would touch his head, his shoulder to signal that mother would take care of it. Zakiva, however, is her clan head before she is her friend. In the end, she gestures for more tea instead. “I am glad you have come to me. It is not…”

“I have brought shame upon our clan,” Zakiva blurts out. “If I cede the title to you, no one else has to know. We can correct these mistakes quietly, swiftly, and steer the Noe to new prosperity. You have always had a better head for numbers, Shuli.”

Is she speaking not to her advisor but to her friend now? Shuli is moved by the sentiment. After all, Izo is married and safe under her watchful gaze. She has no enemies to speak of, nothing to fear if she were clan head. Briefly, she thinks of Yun, his razor-sharp smile. He all but admitted he wants her to lead. And lastly, there would be that other advantage, which she cannot afford to neglect in her calculations.

“Do you mean it?” she asks. “This is a serious matter.”

“I might be out of control but I am not a child, Shuli. Do you wish me to command instead of ask?”

Shuli bites back a smile at the familiar disdain. Her friend always had to throw her weight around to cover up her insecurities. Without that pressure, she would be able to breathe more easily. “I accept.”

Zakiva stands. “Wonderful. I knew I could count on you, my friend. I will send the deed immediately, arrange the ceremony. No reason to wait, would you not agree? May the Deep bless us once again.”

Shuli inclines her head as Zakiva strides out of her quarters. What a change of heart, she thinks. There is hope yet.

---

Yun is going to burst.

Laughing, he rounds his desk and strokes the puppet’s cheek. “Well done!” As expected, his praise doesn’t elicit any joy. Empty yellow eyes stare back at him. “Pity I can’t keep you around but then, I wouldn’t be better than the original, would I? Anyway, I have other triumphs to look forward to.”

And part of him is relieved to put her away. I am simply too good, he thinks as he hurries through the city, scaring myself with my own puppets.

He flings open the library door, flies toward Usira’s widened eyes and captures his lips. After a moment of surprise, Usira returns the kiss. Yun nips at his bottom lip, then soothes with his tongue when Usira growls. This is unlike anything they’ve had before, no words, no thoughts, only desire. Yun clings to Usira’s body against the chill of the library. Thank the Deep they are alone.

Too soon, Usira retreats. Flinging up his arms, he bids Yun to stay put until the scroll-laden desk is between them. “What’s gotten into you?”

The suspicion in his voice shocks Yun like a bucket of ice water. Right. The first time they got this intimate, someone was murdered in the street following his command. The second time, he was stalling a conversation he didn’t want to have. Usira isn’t stupid.

This time is different though. He smiles. “It worked. She took the bait.”

“What… Wait. You mean…”

“What else would I mean? Usira, she believed it!” Not content to stand still, Yun rounds the table to catch up to Usira. With great effort, he keeps his hands to himself but whispers in the taller man’s ear: “We will have a new clan head.”

Finally, Usira smiles and puts one hand on Yun’s head—a gesture that has become his default of affection. “I knew it would work. You’re a genius, after all. Getting her to believe she was talking to her best friend…” He shakes his head.

“There were limitations, of course.” Yun shrugs, trying not to think about how Usira’s hands feel against his face: calloused but warm. “Zakiva is so obsessed with her little coterie of puppets, she takes them with her everywhere. If she were to admit to that addiction and ask for help, however, she could conceivably leave them behind to show that she means it. Everything else, body language, expressions and so on, can be programmed. Aunt Shuli is perceptive, I’ll give her that, but she has blind spots the size of the Zillia Downs when it comes to her closest relatives and friends. Like most people, she only sees what she wants to see.”

“I can’t imagine how she would feel if she found out.”

“She won’t.” Not for a while, at least. “She’s busy negotiating a loan with the temple. I have no doubt she will squeeze them for all they’re worth. That will tide us over until we’ve regained our losses and reputation.”

“I… might be able to help with the reputation problem.”

Yun tilts his head. “Oh?”

“I’ll tell you later.”

Yun considers digging but he’s simply too high on success. “Look at us, working together.” Chuckling, he stretches and Usira bends towards him like a flower towards the glowshroom light. Unity with another has never tasted so sweet.

All the sweeter because he knows it won’t last.

Author Notes

For this season, I’m sticking to one-word titles. This one is a bit of an exception but I couldn’t not allude to the phrase “The ends justify the means”. The question is: Do they really? Does Yun still believe it? And if he has lost his ruthlessness, what does he have left to fight with? For now though, he’s pulled off a daring stunt and has earned some celebration with Usira, don’t you think?

Slowly but surely, we’re nearing the end of Requiem of the Moth Season Three… This is one of the chapters that answers questions and ties up loose ends. You might remember Yun showing Usira his latest puppet creation in chapter five and (if I did my job well) wondering who it resembles. Did you guess it was Zakiva?

In other news, changes are coming to Occam’s Lab. I’ve been thinking and working on things behind the scenes for a while now but I’m still not sure when to share with you all. It should be soon—rip off the band-aid and everything. Stay tuned!

1. Emotional manipulation