The Setting Sun - a cliché as old as time itself. The basis for a thousand metaphors. Witnessed by millions every day, and yet still just as unique and magical each time. In ancient times, before we had the science to understand and explain the rotation of the Earth, people found myriad ways to explain the phenomenon, built pantheons around it, worshipped figments of their imagination, and prayed to them to return the Sun the following day, lest they be plunged into eternal darkness.
To members of the Pariah Council, The Setting Sun is a noodle house. The dim orange light that insinuates lazily through the ancient smoked glass windows, is the only real indication that the building still houses any kind of life or function. To the casual observer it might suggest itself to be an opium den, stuck some two centuries out of time, or a curiosity shop, whose threshold none but the boldest of thrill seekers would cross.
Although he made the journey to the city in a little over an hour, Daikan has spent a further two trying to find the place. With no address to look for, he has had to rely on the knowledge and kindness of strangers, neither of which has been especially forthcoming. Of the people he has asked, who have not immediately scurried away at the mention of the Setting Sun, none have had any exact information, and in a few cases the details he has gleaned from them seemed to be in direct contradiction. And so it is with an uneasy blend of relief and trepidation, that Daikan finds himself finally standing outside.
The light as he opens the door is low, and feels thick, like fog. A small bell above his head startles him, adding to the feeling of disorientation he feels as he steps through into the amber glow. The furniture and decor is ancient and smoke-yellowed, all the wooden surfaces smoothed shiny with the years of relentless use. Use which seems, to Daikan, to indicate a popularity which the Setting Sun has not enjoyed for some decades. As he closes the door, the sounds of the city behind him are muffled almost to silence, but for the sound of the bell still fading. The absence of sound makes him at once particularly self-conscious, but he finds to his surprise that he also immediately senses a familiarity about the place that he can’t quite explain. The explanation does not take long in presenting itself, as he sees first the bowl of noodles, and then a little higher, the face of his Aunt. He hungrily inhales the aroma, and breathes it back out as relief. Both that his Aunt is safe, and that his journey has not been in vain.
He observes a similar change in his Aunt - suspicion at first as she registers a new person in the room, and then joy as she recognises her nephew, and realises that he has begun to walk the path she cryptically set out for him. She says nothing, but beckons Daikan to the small booth where she sits, across the table from two elderly men, one of whom looks almost to have grown out of the wood, and to be a permanent fixture, while the other has the appearance of being displaced in time. He seems to fit neither in the present, nor in the current environment.
“Daikan, you honour me by coming, and I am grateful and happy to see you”
“As I am you, Aunt. Intrigue and concern in equal measure brought me to you”
“I apologise for the latter, and hope to sate the former in due course. Please, come sit by me, and I will introduce you to my colleagues”.
The use of the term colleagues surprises Daikan - he does not remember his Aunt ever having been in employment, though he is sure she must have been at some time. He is unsure as to whether the term is intended to refer to their current, or past relationships. In either case, it gives no hint as to the manner of their work: save for their advancing years, none of them appear to have anything in common.
“Nephew, please allow me to present Amos, and Uncle. Gentlemen, my Nephew, Daikan”
Amos stands and takes the hand Daikan has offered, and squeezes ever so slightly. Not uncomfortably so, but enough to convey more than simple polite greeting. The one referred to as Uncle remains seated, but makes eye contact and then bows his head, respectfully. As Daikan takes a seat by his Aunt, a bowl of noodles and an empty cup are placed before him. By time he has registered the appearance of the waiter and looked to see them, all he sees is a figure in black stepping gracefully towards a door at the back of the room.
“Eat, Nephew. You have come far, and need to build your strength”
“They taste exactly as you make them, Aunt. And build my strength for what?”
“Your Aunt’s recipe has been bringing people here for longer than she would ever admit”
“Though it has been some time, Amos, since any but we have eaten them”.
Uncle once again remains wordless throughout the exchange, though grunts agreement with both statements. Not for the last time, Amos wonders whose uncle he is, and what role he plays by being here.
“So, you mentioned these gentlemen are colleagues…”
“Indeed, Amos is a Librarian, and Uncle, though he would say otherwise, is a mathematician”
“Hrmph”
“I’m more a caretaker nowadays than a Librarian, and Uncle would say he just sees the world as it is”
“And I, as you know, make noodles”.
Daikan took a moment to process the new information, and after turning things over in his mind, determined that none of it made things any clearer at. None of the roles seemed in any way related, and he struggled to think of any kind of business which would require all three.
“I’m afraid I’m still rather confused”
“Confusion is the optimum state for learning, since it fosters a hunger for comprehension”.
The voice itself caught Daikan off guard, almost as much as the fact that it seemed to have come from the hitherto silent Uncle. It was definitely the only voice he had not yet heard, and came from his direction, but Daikan had barely seen the old man move, and the deep, smooth, well-worn tones sounded to have emanated from the wood of the tall bench, rather than from the human occupying it.
“There are very few places, nephew, where the three of us can ever be seen together. The Setting Sun is one of a few select locations where it is possible for us to meet. As you have no doubt surmised, my being here was about more than simply wanting a walk. There is work to be done. Work for which all of us are getting too old, though it pains me to admit it”
“And it rather sounds like you needed more from me than simply returning the plates”
“Oh you brought them? Good lad”.
As he ask this question, Amos reached inside a satchel which sat between Uncle and himself, and produced a plate identical to the two Daikan had in his backpack. At this prompt, he produced them too, and lay them on the table, to the side of the noodles he had not yet touched. Amos picked them up, one at a time, his eyes alight as though they were ancient mystical relics. He checked the bottom of each, seemingly examining the logo of the Setting Sun. he evidently found what he was looking for, and set one of the plates quite deliberately in the centre of the table. On top of it he placed the one he himself had brought, and then looked expectantly at Uncle, who was himself foraging through a wispy sack that looked to be made of seagrass. After some clanking, and muttered curses, he produced another plate, and passed it to Amos, who added it to the pile. There was a clunk as he placed it down, but Daikan was quite sure it did not sound like porcelain making contact.
“Would you care to do the honours, Aunt?”
“Thank you, Amos. I rather would”.
At this, Daikan’s Aunt leaned slightly towards the plates, and began to the turn the topmost one, clockwise. As she did, the middle plate revealed a black line around its edge, which gradually widened to a crack, and Daikan realised it was in two pieces. After about a quarter turn, she lifted the top plate, and half of the newly separated one came with it revealing a space between the two halves, in which lay two small pieces of paper. they were mostly identical, except that they had slightly different things written on them.
The first read:
Grenville #1 Yes: 40G PD
The second was more coherent, though no less cryptic:
Grenville #2 The Problem is Time
“I’m assuming that means something to at least one of you?”
“Not yet, nephew”
“You’re a resourceful young man though, your Aunt tells me”
“Hrmph”
“I really don’t know what’s happening here”
“But you will. You must go with Amos to the Library”.
Daikan’s Aunt passed the two pieces of paper to him, and then set about returning the plates to their original configuration. She passed the top and middle ones back to Uncle, and Amos, and took the bottom one for herself. Pushing the now cold noodles away, she took the fourth plate - the second of the two Daikan had brought, and set it before her Nephew.
“Are we all agreed then?”
“I trust your judgement, Aunt”
“Hrmph”
“I saw a nod there, Uncle. I’m taking that as a yes”
The three nodded, and then Amos looked into Daikan’s eyes - for the first time since they had greeted each other. He again took Daikan’s hand, and this time placed his other hand around it, and gently squeezed.
“We have much work to do, Daikan, and I know not how long we have to do it, but I believe you will perform admirably. Welcome to the Pariah Council”.
