Dreams Across Mountains

Vincent piloted his slick airship towards the wintry mountains, grumbling under his breath. The engine purred as he glanced over the latest message from his scouts on his phone:

"Urgent update - Queen Eleanor and Prince Mark sentiment seems strictly professional upon further observation. No affection or binding engagement detected."

"You gotta be kidding me," Vincent muttered, crumpling the paper. He'd rushed all the way north to crash this imaginary party only to discover it was fake news? Talk about punked.

Still, Vincent had to admit part of him felt low-key relieved. That ice sorceress probably realized no average mortal dude could measure up anyway. Even if Mark's tech skills were notable...for an amateur.

"Whatever, I'm already en route now," Vincent said, cranking up the heat in the cockpit. "Might as well check out this mysterious ice queen myself."

He had a bunch more questions, like whether Eleanor had actually bested Prince Mark herself in any engineering battles. Or if she could melt Vince's mechanized dragon. Maybe they'd vibe over magic metals and invented gadgets despite their elements not mixing so easy.

And call him crazy, but Vincent kept having these weird daydreams about a gorgeous white-haired chick with sapphire eyes... He woke up sweating ice cubes this morning! So either prophecy was manifesting hardcore déjà vu, or Vince's psychic wires got crossed bad.

He guided the airship down through the shredding mists, massive glaciers glittering, as the ice palace loomed. Vince killed the shuddering engines, heartbeat echoing as he stared at Eleanor's frosty tower. Wild, he'd made it to her kingdom first. His sister would be so ticked. Game on for the showdown.

“She’s gonna be really mad,” he murmured to himself with a smile.

If only Vince could shake the sensation that he'd already met Eleanor somewhere once...maybe in another realm that existed only in dreams across mountains where fire and ice combined unexpectedly but with serendipity?

Vincent anchored his airship, boots crunching onto the glimmering snow. He shivered even in his thick leather jacket.

"Get it together, hot stuff," he muttered. "You've got a mysterious ice princess to charm."

He trudged toward the glittering palace gates where two polar bear warm guards crossed spears at his approach. Their warm clothes really made them resemble polar bears in the snow.

"State your identity and purpose!" one bellowed.

Vincent smirked, igniting a fireball. "You can call me His Royal Hotness. I'm here to see Princess Elsa...uh, I mean Eleanor."

The bears bristled as Vincent's heat singed their fur coats. "No one enters without the Princess's consent!"

"Then announce me properly," Vincent retorted, eyes burning crimson.

Just then, the gates creaked open and Prince Mark strode out, dressed in royal silks.

"We have heard tales of Pyrus," he said with a smug grin, giving Vincent an obvious once-over.

Before Vincent could respond, a distant scream rang out from the tower.

"Princess Eleanor!" Mark gasped. He sprinted into the castle with Vincent on his heels.

Destiny was calling fast and loud. Time to crash that prophecy! Vincent might be early, but he wouldn’t back down from no icy rival prince in winning the destined princess's attention.

Vincent dashed after Mark through the glittering halls, icicle-like chandeliers dangling ominously. He flung fireballs left and right, blasting guards out of passageways.

"Out of my way, snow cones!" he yelled.

Mark glanced back in alarm before kicking open a set of frost-covered doors. He drew a glowing blue sword as they spilled into a massive library, ice shards raining down on ancient texts.

There in the center, Princess Eleanor faced off a looming beast, frost spraying from her hands wildly. An enormous polar bear with jagged icicles jutting from its fur swiped massive claws, books and furniture exploding.

Vincent hurtled fire blasts, driving the bear back with a blood-curdling roar. It rounded on him as he generated flames. Mark dove in from behind, wielding his icy blue sword. But the bear lashed out, sending him crashing into a bookshelf.

"Mark!" Eleanor cried. She unleashed a barrage of frozen daggers, pelting the beast.

Vincent seized the distraction to unleash jets of fire, melting icicles off the bear's back. It reared, the two elements steam-clashing inches from its face.

With a snarl, the bear burst through a stained glass window. Vincent and Eleanor stood amidst settling chaos and drifting steam, catching their breath.

"Who are you?" Eleanor kept frost shards aimed at Vincent in warning.

He gave a sweeping bow, embers trailing. "My reputation regrettably precedes me, Your Highness. I am Vincent, Prince of the South Fire Lands... and your prophesied destiny."

Eleanor's eyes widened, flicking to Mark still groaning on the floor. “Game on, ice princess. Choose your player number two wisely,” Vincent thought.

Amidst the wreckage, Eleanor stared at the flaming prince, heart hammering. Those iridescent eyes...she had seen them before. But where?

"You must leave at once," she said, struggling to steady her voice as she helped Mark stand. His presence offered small comfort for her rattled nerves.

Vincent crossed his arms. "Oh I'm not going anywhere, princess. Don't you know why I'm here?" His gaze burned with intensity.

Eleanor turned away, a distant dream tugging at memory. Flashing images taunted her - a handsome face haloed by fire, secret whispers in a shadowy hall, a strange exhilarating sense of connection...

She squeezed her eyes shut. "I know not why you came uninvited. But I insist you explain yourself to the regent, don’t accost me here."

Vincent stepped closer, his warmth disorienting.

"Search your heart, Eleanor," he pressed gently. "Have you not seen me before in visions...across mountains?"

Her eyes flew open. How could he know about the mystifying dreams? She had told no one, not even Mark. They felt too precious and precarious to share, even with her most trusted knight.

"There...there was a dream," she admitted haltingly. "But it faded with the summer solstice winds. Why do you come speaking of it now?"

Vincent's smile held secrets that called to her. "Legends say that

dreams can reveal hidden truths about our destiny. Mine brought me to you, princess. We must decipher them...together."

Eleanor glimpsed Mark turning away, jaw tight. Her loyalties pulled her in too many directions. But the promise of answers ultimately proved too tempting to ignore.

Eleanor hesitated, struggling between old loyalties and tempting new possibilities. Mark's web of support felt steady and safe, the scope of his world secure and known.

By comparison, this fiery prince raging into her sanctuary stood for upheaval and risk - but also for strange, intoxicating dreams that hinted at incredible destinies intertwined.

Which path promised disaster, which salvation? Eleanor could scarcely think through adrenaline's fading echoes. She stared at Vincent, that magnetic pull of his mystery and oddly familiar eyes clouding her focus.

"I...cannot give you an answer now," she managed finally, clear-mindedness returning. "You and your talk of dreams must wait. I need time to confer with my advisor and understand your true motives for this dramatic interruption."

Vincent grinned, unoffended by her skepticism. "Take all the time you require, princess. I'm not going anywhere." He gave an exaggerated bow. "We'll meet again soon once you've sorted dreams from reality."

With that, he sauntered out through the wreckage. Eleanor watched his flaming jacket disappear around the corridor.

"Trouble comes with him, I fear," Mark said quietly from behind her. She turned to see him nursing bruised ribs, handsome face clouded.

Eleanor gazed upward where faint screams still echoed. Yes...trouble already stirred within these ice blue walls. And the prince of fire's arrival hinted at more unrest roiling just underneath the calm surface.

For good or ill, invisible strings now linked them all.

The only question was, whose hands truly pulled the strings...and to what purpose?