The only sound was the periodic, throaty whoosh of the burner, a dragon’s breath that kept Aria Skylar suspended between the infinite blue sky and the endless golden sea of the desert below. The air at this altitude was thin and sharp, cold against her cheeks, but the sun was a warm, welcome weight on her shoulders. Far to her left, the cheerful pink fabric of Aerielle Petalcrest’s balloon was a vibrant splash of colour against the stark canvas of the world. They were a two-family fleet, sailing into the unknown.
Aria sighed, her breath a fleeting white cloud. This was where a Skylar belonged, on the edge of the map, but a familiar guilt gnawed at her. Back home, the Northern Families held the city in a delicate balance. The Snowdrifts were the foundation—they held the bank, the fort, the army, and, most importantly, the newspaper. They controlled the city’s wealth, its security, and its stories. The Petalcrests, on the other hand, held its heart. With their sprawling farms and dominion over the palace, they kept the people fed and happy. A full stomach, as Aerielle often said, was the surest defense against rebellion.
And the Skylars? The Skylars had nothing. No institution, no industry. Just a history of adventure and a reputation for recklessness. They should have secured something, but with her eldest sister, Avalon, gone chasing a ghost in the ice mountains, the family was adrift. Aria felt the weight of that failure. Perhaps she should have been the one to step up, to anchor their family in the city’s politics. Instead, here she was, running away on her own grand adventure.
Her eyes drifted to the horizon, a shimmering line of heat and mystery. They were travelling to the great beyond, a land so uncharted it existed only in whispers. What would they find? Another trading post city? Maybe one filled with… men? The thought sent a strange, happy flutter through her. She’d almost forgotten what boys looked like. The older women said they were uglier, hairier, and certainly didn’t smell as good, but Aria still longed to see one for herself. Then again, she thought, recalling their brief stop at the desert oasis, maybe she liked girls.
The image of a girl with hair like a fractured rainbow flashed in her mind. The girl had been a mystery, appearing from the dunes with a supply of pure, potent Ether—the very substance now fuelling their journey. She hadn’t said where she got it, or where she was going. She was as unknown as the lands ahead, and Aria found the thought intoxicating. She didn’t know her name, but she knew, with a certainty that surprised her, that she wanted to see her again.
Aria glanced over at her friend. Aerielle Petalcrest was a good soul, dependable and kind. But her own balloon felt lonely. She looked down, tracing the patterns of the dunes, and her heart leaped into her throat. A glint of chrome. A plume of sand. A sand buggy, racing across the desert floor with impossible speed. And at the wheel, a vibrant shock of rainbow-coloured hair, unmistakable even from this height.
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The girl was moving fast, on a trajectory that would soon take her far beyond their reach. Aria’s mind raced. There was no time to signal, no time to descend. Impulse, a true Skylar inheritance, took over.
She leaned over the edge of the basket. “Aerielle!” she yelled, her voice thin in the vast emptiness.
The pink balloon drifted closer. “What is it?” Aerielle’s voice came back, carried on the wind.
“That parachute! Do you still have it? The one I made fun of you for packing?”
Aerielle’s laugh was faint. “The one I said might save your reckless life one day? Yes!”
“I need it! Now!”
With practiced skill, Aerielle maneuvered her balloon until their baskets were almost touching. She heaved a packed canvas bundle across the gap, and Aria caught it deftly.
“Thanks!” Aria yelled, her fingers already working at the straps and buckles. “And one more thing.” She began strapping the parachute to her back, her movements swift and sure. “Can you attach to my balloon and land it for me?”
She didn’t wait for an answer. There was only one thought in her mind: she could not let that girl disappear again. Pulling her goggles over her eyes, she took a deep, thrilling breath, climbed onto the edge of the basket, and stepped off into the abyss.
For one stomach-lurching second, there was absolute silence. The world dropped away beneath her. Then the air caught her, and the silence was shattered by a deafening roar as she accelerated towards the ground. It wasn't a fall; it was flight. The wind was a physical thing, a solid wall pressing against her, whipping her hair, screaming past her ears. The sun was a blinding white glare. Below her, the desert was a rumpled golden map, and her own tiny shadow was racing across it to meet her. A wild, euphoric laugh escaped her lips, instantly torn away by the gale. This was it. This was absolute freedom.
The rainbow-haired girl’s buggy was a speeding speck. Aria angled her body, transforming herself into a human dart, guiding her descent. Closer, closer. The ground rushed up to meet her, the details of the dunes sharpening with terrifying speed. Now.
She pulled the cord.
The canopy exploded out with a violent thump that jolted every bone in her body, and the brutal roar of the wind was replaced by a gentle, whistling calm. She was floating, dangling beneath a vibrant silk dome. Below her, the buggy was skidding to a halt, its driver looking up, a hand raised to shield her eyes. Aria expertly steered the parachute, flaring it just at the last moment, and landed in a light, running trot not ten feet from the vehicle’s front bumper.
She unclipped her harness and pushed her goggles up onto her forehead as the rainbow-haired girl stared, her mouth agape in utter disbelief. Aria gave her a moment to take it all in, then offered her most charming, adrenaline-fueled smile.
“Sorry to just drop in like this,” she said, her voice shaking slightly with leftover thrill. “Can I get your name? Because I think I’m falling for you.”
