Aphelion

There is no hiding from the Moonwatchers, no one could ascertain how they maintained all-knowing eyes, but they knew it was not safe at night—when the moon bares all in the darkness. The only man, albeit a legend, eludes the moonlight. He gave the Moon chase; they called him Tinimin.

The moon-watched did not call him this, only his two followers who hid from the prying eyes of the Luna Imperis alongside him called him Tinimin. Tinimin was a man of long black hair, and two leaden eyes that bore right through deception, eyes that petrified men.

“Tinimin, I’m hungry,” bemoans the small boy, hair as silky and sable as Tinimin’s, however his eyes were large and inhumanly golden.

Tinimin pulls the young boy’s frame from the patch of moonlight peaking through the treetops.

“Quiet, child,” Tinimin warns the small creature “they hear at the dead of night.”

The Tinimin knew where to avoid moonlight, his eyes sharp enough to pick out even the smallest sliver.

“How can they hear?” The boy questions blinking owlishly.

“The moon itself, child. That one you see above is made by man. Those lights see, but they have those who hear. Wolves they are called. So we must be quiet.” He places his finger to his lips to silence the child who nods understandingly. As a reward, Tinimin reaches back in his large black haversack, unveiling a wrapped pouch holding it out to the boy, who grasps it, only to be pulled back by Tinimin,

“If you eat now, you will have to catch the next moon’s supper, boy.” The man’s words merely fled past the boy's ears as he greedily unties the pouch, unsheathing long strips of rabbit jerky.

“Share with your sister,” Tinimin hisses out in a whisper, grabbing the gnawing boy by his wrist. The boy reluctantly offers out a meaty stalk to the girl closer to Tinimin.

“She is not my sister,” mumbles the boy amidst a bite, “she doesn’t even talk,”

“You'd do well to talk less Tomo. It keeps you safe.”

The girl was very similar to Tomo, her eyes golden starlight, hair black and full coils like night sky.

"Ula will speak when she is ready."

The man leads them through the shadows, even over small twigs and fallen leaves speckling the dimmed ground. The wolves were none the wiser. Once they reached the tree-line the man paused at the field affront of them. The night lilies sway amongst long grass, basked in chalky glow, and the man sighed.

“Huddle in close children, we must not be seen.”

The man lifted his cloak, a pattern of silver circles lined the inside of the fabric while the outside were a dulled matte gray like wet clay. The two fell into step at either side of his wingspan, then he pulled the hood of his cloak over his head, and hooked his hands around their shoulders, the fabric draping over their forms. Then with a deliberate step forwards he spoke into the air,

“Artemis, shape a deer.” The ringed symbols inside the cloak began to glow like constellations around the children’s heads, they let out gasps of wonder for the upteenth time. The hood emitted a thin veil of light, shaping two horns, as the gray hide mimicked that of a deer pelt.

Then, into the lily field they trotted. When Tomo’s steps began to slacken, his breath spent in stride, Tinimin reached down and looped his hand around the boy's sternum pulling him into step once more.

“Steady child,” his voice falls gently down the clasped hem of the garment, causing a whine from Tomo,

“My legs tire.” Groans the child, and Tinimin grumbles, stopping only to pull them up by their middle, hunkering them into his sides.

“Keep all limbs in tight, or the illusion will wane.” He instructs, he can see the homestead now, at the end of the field, it also is watched by the moon. As they reached gradually closer to the house, there was ruffling that sounded at their heels. Tinimin can hear at the headset crested over his pointed ear,

“Motion. 1 yard, flank.” He rounded instinctively, any man on the ground would be able to see he was not a deer, and any man on the ground at this time would be nothing but a wolf. Through the green thicket came a familiar form, it was as he expected, a lackey armored with sharp silver finger-points, and the all familiar elvin point of his ears, meant more to copy wolves.

"You there. It is pass time for civilians, you are violating curfew." Intoned the wolf, before he fully processes the man in the cloak. The wolf stops his stride immediately, his eyes have silver paint across them, highlighting his piercing blue eyes,

"You are…you are the run-away, enemy of Selene." He peered through the dusky shadow of the pulled cloak, and then he looked down at the slight squirming movement at Tinimin's sides.

"I heard whispers of you not being alone in tavern's. But how can anyone believe the civilians? They lie, they hide, they betray. They are more of the eternal night than I," he chuckles in realization, pulling from his hip a sliver of rot iron, the heavy blade, slices through the breeze, "I mean we. Your treason is infamous, and I—."

A whine burbles out from the flap of fabric, followed by a small fist that even the wolf could see fling forth.

"—Tinimin put me down, it hurts!"

The wolf gave a smile that filled his face, pushing his high cheekbones into his temples,

"My night gets better, you harbor dio?" The wolf lets out a celebratory hoot, and the unusual deadpan of Tinimin slightly revealed a flicker of fear which only served to delight the wolf who grins harder, "Two you hide from Selene and the council? The stars have blessed me!” He raises the sword with every intention to swing, but before he could even lunge, Tinimin breathed steadily and swung from underneath the sheath, a metal ball. The decorated sphere has engraving’s of wine-cups upon it, as it rolled towards the wolf.

“Stars—,” the wolf studies the ball when it suddenly splits open, and then started to make a very unique shrill. In a fit of pain, the man dropped his sword, and covered his ears hoping to deafen the gnawing beat.

Tinimin took off running, the house was the only thing in his sight. The moon would soon see the wolf that howls in pain, rather than stalks the sector given to him. Soon they would see the deer who entered a house—then there would be nowhere left to run. He slammed the door behind him with a kick of his boot, hoisting the children down, exposing them to the dark of a silent abode. It looked lived in, perhaps just cleaned earlier in the day. No one said anything, not even Tomo, as Tinimin led them to the mouth of a fireplace, the ash and soot nowhere to be found, however fresh wooden logs, and that of flint matches, sat ready for use. He handed the matches to Ula, the frail girl quickly cracking the match in half and the friction caused a small flame to arise from the torn halves. She throws them in, looking up expectantly at Tinimin who pats her on the head, encouragingly.

“We sleep here tonight.”

Tomo reaches out towards the fireplace, “Where is here?”

“Are you ever quiet child?” Tinimin furrows his brow.

Tomo turns away from the fire with a frown, “When I sleep.”

Tinimin let’s out a chortle clapping his hands, “As we all are,” he flings his arms out gesturing around them.

“This home belonged to a dear friend,” Tinimin brushes his hands across the polished oak, his boots making guttural rhythm on the glass tiles, “his sister sustains it. This could be called a shelter from the moon. His sister even leaves food for travelers.” The thought spurs Tinimin, the large man makes his way towards a small kitchen, looking over the spotless counters and towards that of a small cold cupboard. Pulling it apart, he found a plastic bowl with a film over top, leaning into the chilling cupboard to smell the concoction he reels back with a hidden smile.

“There is abalone porridge,” his voice carries out into the living room where the children are cozied at the fire, his words pull them from their haunches.

Tinimin pours the thick soup into their traveling bowls, placing each on a shiny white slab, the hot plate warms the foods warm in mere minutes.

“Let’s eat by the fire,” he suggests, and the children follow him and the silken tendril of the perfuming soup leading them to the loveseat and armchair overlooking the flames.

Tomo spares no time to dig into his food, messily scooping gooey rice into his mouth with a hum of satisfaction. Ula ate with a smile on her face, the most sound she made were the slurps of her meal.

Tinimin watched them for a moment, raising his water satchel to his lips with a steady gulp.

“I am called Tin man, the Aphelion.” He explains, “Aphelion describes the position of a celestial body, like a planet. And it means that the planet is at its further point from the sun.” Neither child questions him, focusing more on porridge.

“I used to be a wolf, serving Selene.” The mention of wolves seems to garner attention, and each child slows, “the wolves serve the Selene…she is like a queen. And she has the Luna Imperis to help her keep balance. They work in the second Moon, and wolves keep order on the earth.”

Tomo remained quiet, almost afraid to swallow down the rest of his food. Looking at the fire, Tinimin sighs,

“They call me the Tin-man because my heart is machine, the nickname is from a child's tale about a Wizard. I forget. However my real name is Treysi D’Artigan. And to be an Aphelion…you are furthest from the light, a fugitive who opposes the light incarnate—Selene,” Tin Man lays back against the armchair cushion,

“Or so it is said. The Selene is no more powerful than the other moons. She lost something important to her.” The man sets down his bowl, the food nearly untouched, only to unveil a silver cord around his marked neck. Under the weave of his cloak, he exposes a long chain, a heart-shaped pendant moves from under his shirt, just before he shows them a locket. It’s made of glass warped into a decadent cage around a selenite heart.

“It is this. They call it a stellaris. The moons use this someway…it has knowledge, it is powerful to carry.” The fire’s light caught the stone and the glass in such a way that it looked like a star of its own, glittering precariously overhead, in reach, “This will be your way to Cygnus, the Light of the Blue moon. There you will be safe, Cygnus only appears every so often and not even the other celestials can find him amongst the stars.”

The boy points up at the trinket,

“Did you steal it?” Tomo’s question strikes Tin-man who looks back from the glowing locket and to the boy. His black eyes seemed to mask over dimly, as his pronounced brows pinched together shadowing his pointy features.

“I am many things, but a thief I am not.” Tin-man growled, shaking his head at the boy, “when your grandmother entrusted you both to me—she gave it to me. It is my debt for her kindness.” His mind falls on the woman, one who should’ve turned him over to the wolves once he turned up on her farm. It would’ve been easy for her to turn him in, the bounty on his head would reserve any civilian a place in the heavens, something all dreamt about. Many worked their whole lives towards, to live high, in the stars. Where the people lived longer, enough to have several lifetimes. Where they could leave Earth and voyage the star system, where the food never ended, the water was pure like dew. Where people didn’t work to live.

He smiled fondly remembering the elder woman, she was cunning. Her interference was not for simply just her kindness, this was an opportunity, and his pride would not turn him away from a debt to be paid for saving his life.

“I promised her to get you there safely. In order to fulfill her request, you must listen to me and do as I ask,” he punctuates the sentence with a more focused glare at Tomo, who sheepishly buries his cherubic face closer to his food.

“The Cygnus will not see you if you have nothing of importance. Lucky for you, the stellaris is a bargain none could refuse.” His lips pressed to explain more but he realized by their small cacophony of yawns, and slowed gestures that they were tired. Before sleep could settle over them, Tin-man straightens his spine leaning forwards, saying firmly over them,

“Do you understand?”

He got noncommittal hums, they cared little about where they rested their forms, having slept in grass and tree hollows for much of the journey so far. Ula remained quiet as always, and was first to fall back against the couch cushion, her eyes shut peacefully. Tomo feigned sleepiness muttering through a yawn,

“Good night Tinimin,” his molten honey eyes peaked past the leaden droop of his lashes. Tin-man looked at him for a moment conceding,

“Night, children.”

Before the sun could reach the horizon, Tin-man had gotten up. He found he too had nodded off, not too long after laying the children to bed on the only twin sized bed in the cabin. Tin-min rested in the armchair, reciting the journey left with his atlas. It was the chirp of a voice in his ear that roused him from sleep,

“Motion detected. 16 yards.” He scratched at the metal clip on his ear that covered the canal, and fed him alerts. Tin Man rustles his hair back out of his face, groaning

“The moon will sleep soon, why must they persist?” Despite complaints, Tin-man pulled his cloak closer staving off a shaky yawn, solidifying his voice to be clear,

“Artemis,” he proses the air, and he feels the fabric glow alight before he heard in the ear-piece,

“Yes Treysi?”

“A count of the frequency marbles?”

“4 remaining.”

He’d burned through those quickly, using them to dismantle threats with a pitch that rendered wolves and bloodhounds immobile. The last four would have to suffice,

“Deploy all four in the next 3 minutes.” He orders, swiftly lurching up from the couch just as he heard a sound.

“Motion detected 2 yards.” Ahead of him, the children slept in the sole room of the cabin. He heard a rustle before glass broke, and without thinking he sprinted for the door bursting through it in a tangle of his own limbs and his Artemis cloak. Tomo and Ula are cradled close to an invading force, and Tin-man freezes completely.

He realizes an entire chunk of the far corner-wall has been vaporized by what he assumes to be moonbeams. A wolf, heavily armored and different from land wolves stood restraining the squirming children.

Tin-man inhales his eyes falling upwards, above the man a stray of light slings down a heavenly form.

She is as beautiful as last he left her, her body draped in starlight itself. Her hair floated behind her as if held by fluttering doves, and she looked at him with eyes so silver, like sparkling liquid mercury.

“Treysi.” Her voice, although soft, echoes overhead like a resounding clap of thunder. Before her, he feels like a mere mortal, he is reminded of his fragility.

“Selene.” Tin-man answers through a stiff lip, curling his fingers together.

“You were sloppy. Did you think we wouldn’t notice the trail of wolves you left in sound paralyses?” Her skin is golden olive, and she falls forwards towards the children who are completely still—having never seen a woman who looked like her before.

Tin Man exhales for composure, attempting to look her in the eye,

“Selene, let us be,” he pleads.

Any pleasantry on her face morphed instantly into a cold, threatening mask.

“You have taken a lot, you and that traitorous hag,” her eyes flick down towards the stupefied children and she softened a bit, “even these perfect creations, robbed from their cradle to live on this filth,” she sneered regarding the old cabin, brittle and a testament of man, earth. Men who had yet to travel the stars, and gain technology beyond a human’s wildest dreams.

“They are still children, they’ve been raised human.” Tin-man swallows.

“My dioskuros are beyond humans, more intelligent, much more beautiful, much more cosmic. Impervious to illness, stronger, faster, they are perfection incarnate,” she nudges Ula and Tomo from the wolf and into her arms, they melt to her as if she put a spell over them. Tin-man could feel the frequency bells rolling down the lining of the suit, dispatching at his earlier command, although he knew the Selene would be unaffected all he needed was her guardsmen to fall prey to the objects.

“You’d just turn them into weapons, Selene. They deserve better,” his words, incited rage in the woman who steps forwards prying the children from her with a harsh push,

“It’s of little concern what happens to my specimen,” she raises her hands impatiently before he could speak again, “Enough talk aphelion, where is my stellaris?” And she enclosed him as if she really were a goddess immune to all, she even glowed in front of him, and he could see much more closely the way her hair pulsed with strands of light, her hands rose to grip his collar, and he ensnared her a second later.

“Unhand me at once!” She yanks against him, and the slightest sound of her distress has a guard firing off a flash round, the blinding light knocks Tin-man back with his vision hot white.

“Without your precious jewel you are as red-blooded as the very men you sneer at,” chuckles Tin-man, stepping back more to avoid her.

“Quiet aphelion,” she growls, lunging again for his neck, missing him, she turns back to her guardsmen with a bark in her throat, however it dies when she sees the mutated men hunched over clutching at their heads at the pulsating flutter of the frequencies. Tin-man regains his vision looking through the dimmed haze.

“You best go home Luna, before the sun rises. Isn’t it the price to pay for your experiments?”

He can see her hesitate as she glares at him through the thrush of her moon-whitened lashes. Reluctantly she acknowledged his words, he smirked as she continued glaring.

“Give me the Stellaris, and you may keep the Dioskuros.”

For a moment Tin-man thought about it before he smiled looking towards the children.

“I’ll raise you one better,” Tin-man, stretched with a sigh, looking up at the heavens above *Forgive me*

“If I give you both, would you call off the wolf hunts? And grant me my freedom?” His eyes looked back into her glassy eyes, he’d almost felt he was looking at a judgement Angel herself, by the way her face contorted for a moment, conflicted.

“It is summer, the sun burns brighter these days,” he hurries her with a much more strict resolve.

The Selene holds out her hand,

“Your crimes against Luna Imperis are unforgivable,” she pauses, finding it hard to say the last words, “Unlike feral beasts,” her pointed tone struck him as he reached for the locket if he had a human heart, he might’ve felt hurt by that, “We of the Celestial command honor our promises. So I accept.”

Tin Man plopped the chain in her hands, a smile on his face bold and unbothered by the hardened look of the Selene’s.

“If you stay in my astralique—I cannot promise that I will not personally see you pay for your treason.”

Tin man looked at her with a smirk,

“A broken heart has yet to kill you Selene,” he tilts his head, “You won’t see me again.”

Tin-man didn’t look back as the confused squall of Tomo called out to him, it was only when he heard,

“Tin-man?” In a voice he didn’t recognize. Slowly swiveling , his eyes fall upon a struggling Ula. Her eyes filled with tears and the Tin man gave a soft smile as reassurance. Closing the door behind him as he left them to the retreating Moon.