Fate Rebellion

As soon as Rurik heard his father's roar, he knew he had a chance for survival. Yet, they'd be too late to stop the two wolves bearing down on him right now, not to mention those still eying for an opportunity. 

To survive, he knew he had to make a sacrifice. 

From the moment those wolves lunged, everything, including himself, appeared to move in slow motion. Adrenaline surged through his system by the bucket. 

With no chance to dodge both of them, he simply dodged neither. Moving fluidly, he stepped into the left wolf's lunge, and jammed his left upper arm into the creature's maw. 

 The wolf crashed into him, sending them both sprawling to the ground, causing the other's wolf's lunge to miss. Simultaneously, Rurik felt like time resumed its normal pace. Meanwhile, he positioned himself such that the wolf fell on top of him. 

When he hit the ground, the air in his lungs was forced out of his body, but he used the opportunity to attack. Roaring with pain and effort, he repeatedly stabbed his knife into the wolf's neck. 

At the same time, its jaws crunched down on his arm and Rurik snarled in pain. He heard his bones crunch and skin tear as agonizing suffering flooded his mind, his clothes offering barely any protection. 

He almost went into shock… but he'd suffered worse. Perhaps not in this life, but certainly in the last. He gritted his teeth and endured the pain as he continued stabbing the wolf to make sure it couldn't continue snacking on his arm. 

It took a few seconds of heated struggle, but eventually the wolf died, and Rurik's small body was buried under a mountain of fur and muscle. For now, he remained protected from the other wolves. The pain in his arm was excruciating, his chest was burning, and various other places were hurting, but he was still alive. For now. 

This gave his father the extra thirty seconds he needed to come to his rescue. 

Suddenly, the massive bear of a man, half dressed, stinking of alcohol, and wielding two axes, crashed out of the underbrush, into the small clearing and roared into the air, "Cursed creatures, who wants to become my next rug?!" 

He squared his shoulders and swung his axes wildly, not actually trying to hit anything, but rather trying to drive them off. He continued to roar, bellow, and curse at the wolves, as if trying to talk them down. Behind him, the forest was awash with more people rushing over to help. 

The wolves snarled defiantly, but it didn't take more than a few seconds before they realized that staying was not in their best interest. Instantly, they cut their losses and ran off, leaving their dead comrade behind. 

As soon as the danger was over, Rurik groaned in relief, his arm still stuck in the dead wolf's mouth and flaring with pain. Harald quickly made his way over to him, "Rurik! Tell me you're alive, boy!" 

"F— For now…" he gasped, finding it hard to breathe with the wolf on top of him, yet unable to push it off. "B— But I could use some help…" 

Blood was streaming down his face, as the wolf's maw and his upper arm were above his head. Fortunately, Rurik realized the wolf missed any major arteries. He'd gotten lucky, of course, but he'd also deliberately positioned his arm so that the wolf would bite into his triceps, containing mostly muscle. 

"Thank the Gods!" Harald exclaimed in relief, but quickly became concerned when he noticed his son's situation, yet also a little proud. "I see you gave as good as you got, boy. Perhaps even more." 

"I— I know," Rurik panted for breath as he looked up at his father from the ground. He needed to be quick, as he could already feel his consciousness fading. "J— Just get this… thing off me…" 

Harald didn't need to be told twice. He dropped to one knee, his big hands moving quickly but with surprising gentleness. He glanced over his shoulder at the retreating figures of the wolves, then back at the dead weight on top of his son. 

"Hang in there, boy," he muttered, his voice gruff, but beneath it was a note of fear. Harald jammed one of his axes into the ground beside him and used the other to wedge between the wolf's jaw and Rurik's mauled arm, carefully prying it open. 

"Easy… steady…" Harald spoke almost as much to himself as to his son. Finally, the wolf's teeth loosened, and Rurik winced as the pressure around his arm eased up. With a heave, Harald pushed the lifeless creature off of Rurik, its body rolling aside heavily with a dull thud. 

Rurik gasped, gulping in fresh air now that the crushing weight was off of his chest. He blinked up at the sky, his vision blurring and clearing as he tried to hold onto consciousness. Pain was rampaging through his mind, but he refused to give it a voice as his arm began gushing blood even faster. 

"By the gods, lad, what were you thinking?" Harald half-growled, half-laughed, though his eyes remained worried as they took in Rurik's bloodied arm, limp and useless at his side. He pulled off his tattered shirt, ripping it into long strips to stem the bleeding. 

"It… seemed… like a good idea at the time," Rurik managed to wheeze out, his lips quirking into a pained smile. Each breath still hurt, and his arm throbbed with each heartbeat, but he was alive—and that had been far from certain just moments ago. 

Sacrificing his upper arm had been a very deliberate decision. It possessed a single, relatively tough bone, and the most powerful muscles in his arms. He didn't doubt the bone was still fractured, but it could have been far worse. 

"Reckless," Harald shook his head, but there was a note of fierce pride in his voice. He began to wrap the cloth around Rurik's arm, his hands still moving deftly. "You did good, though. Saving your sister." 

"Right…" Rurik sighed as he continued to grit his teeth. The world had begun to spin around him as unconsciousness was looming. He looked up at the moon. 'I guess I have a little sister now…' he groaned inwardly, somewhat reluctantly. 'Assuming I survive…anyway…Not like…doctors are so knowledgeable…in this day and age…' 

After what he just did, he knew he'd already made his decision. At least, in regards to Maria. But, before he could think any further on it, his eyes fluttered close. 

Finally, Harald finished binding the wound. The last thing Rurik felt was his father picking him up carefully, wounded arm draped over his chest, before quickly making his way back to camp.