Kaelen and the Solar Core

Kaelen adjusted the brass dials on her goggles, the world snapping into a sharp, amber-tinted focus. The distant city of Orizon looked like a needle of white marble piercing the sky.
“Still too far,” she whispered, her voice caught and carried away by the whistling wind.
/n
She stood on the mossy brink of the cliff, her brown leather boots digging into the soft earth. Below her, the clouds churned like a golden ocean, hiding a drop so deep it had no bottom. Most people in the Citadel lived their whole lives without ever seeing the edge, but Kaelen lived on it.
/n
She reached down, checking the tension on the heavy-duty carabiner at her hip. The giant vines snaking between the islands were slick with dew, but they were the only bridge she had. To anyone else, it was a suicide mission. To Kaelen, it was Tuesday.
/n
She pulled her ponytail tight, took a final look at the Spire, and stepped into the air. She didn’t fall; she soared, her hands reaching for the rough bark of the first vine as the gravity of the open sky tried to claim her.