The Darkspire Trilogy: Tenebrae Aeternae

The moon was barely a sliver of softly luminescent white against the vast, velvet-black night sky, and distant, icy stars glimmered high above the gallium-forged city of Arisyl. The towers, shops, and homes were dark-- oil lamps extinguished for the Hours Of No Sun, while all was still and silent. A shadefly flitted about in a dark alleway, its wings emitting no sound as the insect traveled to and fro, doing nothing in particular.
Yet the tranquility of the sleeping city was disturbed as footsteps began to echo from somewhere deep in the heart of Arisyl. The shadefly sensed this, and darted out of sight, just as a flickering light came into its view, casting odd shadows against the glinting, silver-like walls. Strangely enough, it was a lantern. The footsteps continued to make their way toward a single square building, worming their way into the serene quietness of the night. Gloved fingers clutched the lantern's handle, preventing it from swinging, and therefore eliminating the possibility of being seen. A tall, cloaked figure, a man, whom the fingers and footsteps belonged to, peered into the window of the building. The curtains were drawn. The man clenched his jaw, deep in thought. This is definitely the right place. He raised his free hand to scratch at an itch on his nose. Yet how do I find what I'm looking for?

***


Dawn arrived with the rich orange glow of the sun peeking over the distant
horizon, and making the metal walls glint and gleam. The people of Arisyl were rousing at last, drawn out of their beds by the promise of the sun's brilliant golden blaze, and by the songbirds whistling a lively springtime tune from the branches of the Lhan Arrim trees. Windows were opened by eager residents, letting in the fresh, sweet air; shop owners switched the "closed" signs for bright, inviting "open" signs; plants were watered; benches were cleaned, leaving them sparkling; and children were called into their kitchens for breakfast.
Nothing looked even slightly out of place, not even the brown-haired, crimson-eyed girl who leaned against the trunk of one of the trees. Though she had an odd aura about her, no one gave her any second thoughts-- for she was always, always here, under the same tree in the same small park with the same detached, faraway expression upon her face. Long ago, the Arisilians had realized that this girl could not hear-- that she was deaf, and so they let her be.
Now, she surveyed her surroundings with a reserved, unreadable gaze, satisfied when she was sure that no one was watching her. And then, for the first time in a very long while, she left her spot and slipped behind the Lady Rose Precious Stone Exchange, swiftly glancing over her shoulder to ensure again that she had not been noticed, and, brushing a tiny ash beetle off of her skirt, sat and waited.

Only minutes passed before she felt a hand on her arm. Looking up, she met the deep green eyes of a European man.
"You've come." She spoke strangely for someone so young, with a high, clear voice like icy water flowing over stones.
"Yes." The man nodded, crouching down next to her. "So you are the one called K?"
"I am."
"And you're ready?"
"To leave?"
"To leave," he repeated. "That is correct."
"Very well then. We will go now."
"Of course," the man acknowledged. "If that is what you wish... Miss K."