Fate Rebellion

After stabbing the fake Luna, Rurik quickly backed off, narrowing his eyes cautiously, and once again drawing his sword. After nearly sixty years of Rurik and Luna being nearly inseparable, there was no way he'd mistake anyone for her. The smallest twitch, the slightest glance, her choice of words. He knew from the start it wasn't Luna. 

He immediately decided there was no way this thing or person was connected to his wife… because she would have warned them about approaching him like this. 

Both Luna and Rurik were firm believers of the idiom 'shoot first, ask questions later', and since this thing approached him disguised as his wife, he could only assume they were here with bad intentions. 

Regardless, his attack didn't appear to have any effect. The fake Luna simply looked disappointed. Her playful eyes followed his retreating form, seemingly unconcerned about the knife in her side. 

"I guess youngest sister was right, you really are an observant little fellow," she cooed, her voice suddenly breaking down into the rasping of someone far older than Luna. 

"Who are you…?" Rurik growled, his stance low, his head on a swivel. This woman was talking about a sister, and he definitely heard another voice earlier, so there were multiple people hiding in this fog. 

"Hihihi," the fake Luna giggled like a witch and disappeared in a puff of smoke. Rurik's knife fell to the ground, not a trace of blood on it. 

Then, without warning, three women rose up from beneath the fog and surrounded him in a triangle formation. They all wore simple brown robes, and their facial features were very similar. The biggest differences between these women were their age and expression: one was a mischievous child, another was calm and middle-aged, and the last was a wicked old woman. 

"Dammit," Rurik cursed, turning on his axis in an attempt to keep his eye on all of them. As soon as he realized there were three of them, a suspicion was already brewing in his mind. Even if he hadn't been steeped in Norse mythology for the last eighteen years, he'd heard of them by many different names in his past life. 

Several ancient myths told of three entities spinning the yarns of fate—one who saw the future, one who saw the present, and one who only sees the past. 

In Norse mythology they are the Norns, in greek the Moirae, in roman the Parcae, in Slavic the Sudice, and among Toaists they are the Sanxing. Whatever their name, almost any mythology on Earth has some vision of three beings influencing fate. 

Still, he stayed relatively calm. Despite everything that happened to him so far, he was going to need some serious proof before he accepted his current proximity to such mythical beings. 

Besides, Luna had warned him something would happen, and he could only imagine this was part of it. 'She hadn't warned me about anything specific, so there's a good chance I'm not in danger here,' he thought sternly to himself, trying his best not to make assumptions. 'Then again, there's always a chance Luna had no idea about this either…' 

The older woman, leaning on a walking stick, grinned wickedly at him. "Are you sure you don't recognize us, boy? I do believe those little mortals down there have a name for us, don't they? Several even?" Her voice clearly proved she was the fake Luna from before. 

Rurik turned to the older woman with narrowed eyes, but didn't seem impressed. "I'm pretty sure I know who you want me to believe you are, but based on what happened before, that means verry little. You could still be anyone. I am just a mortal, but I have a special ability… perhaps this is something similar." 

Perhaps they were who he thought them to be, perhaps they were other mythic or supernatural beings pretending to be them, or perhaps there was simply someone like him around. Either way, he wouldn't just accept the truth they showed him as fact. 

Behind him, the child version giggled. "I told you he's sharp! But he'd have to be in order to fulfil the fate we've woven for him!" 

The older woman snorted and waved her hand dismissively, "Even we don't know the exact workings of fate, youngest sister. Does fate shape the mind? Or does fate happen, regardless of the person it affects?" She smirked disdainfully and looked Rurik up and down. "Perhaps he's just a brainless idiot, accidentally stumbling towards the right destination." 

"That's enough, you two!" the middle-aged woman interjected impatiently, before either Rurik or their youngest sister could retort. "We don't have the time to sit here, bickering!" 

Rurik instantly tensed up, still panning his gaze between the three crones. "Get started with what?! The hell do you people want from me?!" 

The older woman chortled maliciously, "Oh, nothing too strenuous! Just the fulfilment of our life's work and desires!" 

"Hehehe," the youngest giggled playfully again. "Yeah! But you don't need to worry about it, funny little mortal! Your role in our grand stage is already prepared! Your die cast, your destination set!" 

Rurik felt his pride baulk at her words. She made it sound like he was just a tool in their box, a pawn in their plans. But he'd never accept such a thing. Rurik and Luna were the ones who masterminded, not the other way around! 

"I've got no interest in being a pawn in whatever game you three are playing…" he growled threateningly, knowing there was likely nothing he could do to them. Sometimes, it was about attitude, rather than results. 

Unfortunately, they were not impressed. The youngest and oldest sisters giggled demeaningly, while the calmer middle-aged one shrugged indifferently. "Your cooperation is not needed, mortal. You'll follow the fate we've woven for you, because it's the only choice you have! Accepting your helplessness will make things much easier for you." 

Rurik had no intention of doing so, but that wasn't what he cared about right now. His mind raced. He was now sure they didn't mean him any harm, because why would they damage their tool? But if he was going to resist whatever his so-called fate was, then he needed to find out more about what these three had planned for him. 

Wrecking his brain and focusing intently, he noticed a glimmer of some emotion in the middle-aged woman's eyes and honed in on it. When she mentioned he should accept his helplessness, he saw defiance and resentment in her eyes. 

'Are they resisting something themselves…? But what? Fate as well? Something else?' His mind raced as the possibilities swirled. He needed to find out more. 

But the sisters didn't wait for him. They spread their arms. Dark green energy coalesced between them, forming a large, pulsing bubble around Rurik. With every pulse it slowly shrank in on him. 

"What the—" Rurik muttered in shock, but then quickly shook his head and focused on the immediate threat. His thoughts raced, his eyes searched, but no matter where he looked, there was no way out. He refused to panic, but concern grew rapidly. 

"No point in trying to escape, little mortal," the youngest sister giggled. "We are all bound by fate, and just as you follow the fate you created for you, we also have our own part to play. But you don't need to worry! It's a gift! I promise!" 

Her tone clearly indicated she was just playing around, rather than actually trying to comfort him. Still, that wasn't what Rurik focused on. No, he finally got a clue. 

His eyes lit up. Keeping his eyes on slowly shrinking bubble's edges, he tried to glean a little more information. "You have a part to play in my fate… which means you three are bound by it just as much as I am?" 

Instantly, the older and middle-aged sister glared at the youngest one.