Maelstrom and Vulcan

"Burdened by a hurtful past, the two former lovers meet once again to heal the wounds not even time can mend…"

It's Called Destiny

Flames of pure magic wrap around the sorceress as Vulcan lunges at her with his burning fist. Stopping within inches of her face, Vulcan's eyes widen in utter surprise.

His attack is blocked! He didn't realize it, but an invisible wall of thin ice stood between him and his Queen. The flames continue to dance around her, but she is unmoved. The flames refuse to touch her, as if afraid of the repercussions—a reflection of their master's troubled soul perhaps?

He jumps back, his feet skidding to a halt as he bends slightly forward. He draws a shuddered breath, hints of chuckles mixed into his shivers. "I blasted through those walls of ice like they were nothing, but that last one you've got…"

"Your flames burn too dim to scorch me, Vulcan," she replies in a tone colder than the air piercing the King's skin.

"But Fire magic overcomes Ice magic, so what gives?"

A snarl escapes her. "You still have no idea."

Vulcan refuses to blink, but even so, she escapes his sights! Vulcan gasps, his confidence lost in a swirling torrent of fear and anxiety. There is pressure against his Adam's apple, enough to water his eyes.

"No way," he rasps.

Maelstrom has bested the sorcerer once again, displaying speed unlike anything he has witnessed in his time. She presses the icy blade against his gullet, pulling herself close to him as she wraps her free arm against his stomach.

No, this wasn't speed. There was no way she was this quick. There was only one explanation for this.

"Chaos Control," he surmises.

"You aren't worthy of being King with such poor sorcery," Maelstrom hisses, squeezing against Vulcan's abs. His forced exhale followed, and she continues, "You should know that the affinities of the elements don't matter if the skill between the sorcerers are years apart."

"You saying I'm rusty?" Vulcan teases hoarsely, gasping for air a second later when Maelstrom squeezes his stomach again.

"Has becoming the God's Emissary made you weak? You rely on that sword so much that you've forgotten your magic."

Vulcan grunts with what little breath he is allowed.

"It's been three years. If you had improved your skills as a sorcerer, you would have learned that Chaos Control isn't just slowing or stopping time. Teleportation is another method of Chaos Control we sorcerers and the Brotherhood learned."

Vulcan never could surpass Maelstrom whenever it came to knowledge on magic, and now was no different. Bound to her, he realizes just how little he has come. As strong as he is, Maelstrom still tugs at his chains.

Those chains…just when he thought he was free from their grip.

"So what now, Maelstrom?" Vulcan asks in a shallow exhale of breath. "You gonna kill me?"

Maelstrom grunts. "What're you planning? Revealing our race yet again? There's a reason I allowed the Revolution to succeed, you know?"

"Some things are better left out in the open, ya know?"

"You had something to do with that incident the other day with the IGPF, didn't you?"

Vulcan snickers, ignoring the pleas from his lungs for air. "You figured it out? Jin wants Shadow too?"

"That's who that boy with you was? Don't worry, I'm not concerned with him and neither is Jin."

"Then what? What the hell do you want from me?"

After what seemed a lifetime, Maelstrom releases Vulcan and pushes him onto the ground. The frozen blade shatters as she enfolds herself in her snow-white cape once more. Her lips part as she prepares to speak, but the world around them shakes violently, time restored. She steps aside and grabs the arm holding a sword. Whether the weapon was intended to kill her or not was a mystery. She examines the jeweled blade, as she utters, "Even in Chaos Control, I couldn't see you. Your aura however is plain as day."

She swings the arm up and pushes the man back with a slight tap on his sternum. The man dressed in silver regards her with a rather empty glare, searing through the permafrost encasing Maelstrom's heart.

"I can tell you and Vulcan know each other. However, I must warn you that his life belongs to me."

"The Queen of Sorcery, Lady Maelstrom," the man says as he regains his balance. His gloved hand maintains its tight grip around the hilt of the blade as he sheathes it. "We finally meet."

"You know my name? Then you aren't just an average human."

Maelstrom stares down the new foe, searching for a window to his soul through his eyes. She finds the windows are sealed shut…no, they are wide open but even so, she finds nothing inside. It is empty, nothing but darkness is found. She scowls and faces him fully, perplexed by his lack of emotions—lack of a soul. "You're nothing but a body with a simple but strong aura. People like you exist?" she asks the silver-haired swordsmen.

He runs a hand through his slicked hair and answers, "To refer to me as a person is incorrect. I am merely a tool—an abandoned tool—that defies the fate forced upon itself."

"Textbook answer," Maelstrom jokes, tucking a strand of her hair behind her ear. "Do you have a name?"

"Lieutenant!"

Maelstrom overhears the Black Berets behind her as they rush to their commanding officers' side.

"Is his arm…?"

"No, it's just the Vic Viper's armored arm that's been severed."

"There's the bounty hunter right there."

"We'll bring him in as well for this."

Maelstrom turns to oppose them, but she is beat to the punch as the sound of blades cutting through skin and wails drown out the announcers over the loudspeakers. The crowd near them gasps as the Berets fall into their pools of blood, the two culprits looming over their bodies. There is one female and the other a red-haired male, both sharing similar frowns towards Maelstrom as she faces them.

"Heh, it's a regular reunion."

Vulcan jumps to his feet, standing between the three, a weary grin across his face as always. Maelstrom scoffs, opening her mouth to question his quick recovery, but he cuts her off, "No way I'd be down and out just when all of the party guests are here, right?"

"You're kidding?" she barks. "You can't tell me that you--"

"It's called destiny."

Once again, the puppet master takes control of the loose strings, tugging ever so slightly as the act begins.

He smiles, looking up at the stars above as screams fill the night air. "Now, let's dance, puppets."

Surrounded, Vulcan takes control once more!

A/N: Sorry for the sudden change in tense for this chapter. I don't know if this works for me or not. I'll update and change the chapter if people think this form of tense sucks.