Rabbits continued to happen.
That was the only way Aiden could process the situation. They didn't simply exist; they multiplied with enough enthusiasm to qualify as an existential threat.
They rolled across fields like fluffy tidal waves.They squeaked defiantly.They reproduced out of spite.
The farmer was crying somewhere near the fence line. Townsfolk hovered in horrified fascination. And Aiden stood in the middle of it all, watching biological chaos unfold and thinking:
I did this.
The fae guide stood beside him with his usual composed posture, hands lightly clasped behind his back. Not panicking. Not laughing uncontrollably.
Just…
mildly pleased.
"Two wishes granted in one moment," the fae remarked, voice smooth and dignified. "Impressive. Reckless. Terrifying. But impressive nonetheless."
"This is NOT impressive!" Aiden yelled over the sound of squeaks and agricultural despair. "This is a nightmare!"
The fae tilted his head thoughtfully.
"A whimsical one."
A rabbit hopped onto Aiden's boot.
Another hopped onto that rabbit.
Aiden stared down at them with hollow resignation.
"…I'm fixing this."
The fae nodded once.
"Without a wish?"
"Yes."
His voice wobbled.
But there was steel in it.
"I am not detonating another reality grenade because I panicked. I will solve this."
The fae smiled.
Warm.Quiet.Proud.
"Then solve it."
Attempt One — Logic (Reality Laughs)
"Everyone!" Aiden shouted. "We herd them! Push them into containment!"
Ten minutes later, he learned that herding rabbits was not remotely like herding anything else that lived on this planet.
He stood helplessly on top of a barrel while a fluffy tide merrily flowed around it.
"Okay!" he yelled.
"Plan canceled permanently!"
The fae nodded politely.
"A useful demonstration."
"In what!?"
"That confidence does not obligate the universe to behave."
Attempt Two — Nature Helps! (It Doesn't)
"Predators!" Aiden gasped. "Nature has balance. Wolves. Foxes. Birds. Something fixes this, right?"
The fae considered the horizon of aggressively fertile doom.
"In non-magical conditions? Yes. Given time. Perhaps a generation or two. Although by then, the rabbits may have developed cultural identity and political leadership."
A rabbit stared at Aiden with unsettling awareness and immediately produced three more rabbits.
Aiden wilted.
"…Next idea."
Attempt Three — Human Solutions (Failure, But Faster)
He tried ropes.He tried cages.He tried barriers.He tried clever barricade systems.
He discovered:
Rabbits chew through rope.
Rabbits chew through wood.
Rabbits disrespect barriers.
Rabbits multiply while you watch.
A sack of rabbits in his arms inflated like cursed dough.
He set it down.
He walked away.
He refused to address it emotionally.
Attempt Four — Trickster Strategy
He sighed deeply.
"Fine. If I can't overpower you… I outsmart you."
The fae brightened with interest.
"How lovely. Proceed."
Aiden:
redirected trails
used noise and distraction
manipulated visual lures
turned the fields into a structured guide-path
For several glorious minutes…
it worked.
Then the rabbits adapted.
The fae slow-clapped with dignified enthusiasm.
"You have accelerated their cognitive development. Congratulations. These are now academically promising rabbits."
"They're getting SMARTER!?"
"Indeed. Fascinating, isn't it?"
Aiden covered his face.
Attempt Five — Light Cheating
"What if," Aiden gasped through exhaustion,
"I grant a very small wish? A… light wish. Gentle wish. Half wish."
The fae gave him a long, patient look.
"There is no such thing as polite cosmic interference. It all bites in the end."
"So that's a no."
"A most decisive one."
Hours passed.
The farmer stopped screaming and transitioned gracefully into numb despair.The townsfolk drifted between panic and fascination.
Aiden finally flopped onto his back in the grass.
"I hate this."
The fae sat nearby.
Elegant.
Calm.
As if this were merely a mildly unusual afternoon.
And somehow…
comforting.
"And yet," the fae said softly, "you did not give up."
Aiden groaned weakly.
"I failed."
"Yes," the fae replied calmly. "Repeatedly. Spectacularly in some cases."
Aiden glared.
The fae's tone softened.
"And still… you persisted. That matters. Anyone can act when success is certain. Character appears when it is not."
Aiden blinked.
"I am not measuring your outcome," the fae continued gently. "I am measuring who you are while attempting."
Aiden swallowed.
"…I still can't fix this."
"And so," the fae replied, "you now understand that reaching your limit is not disgraceful."
He snapped his fingers.
No theatrics.
Just…
relief.
The rabbits slowed.Stopped multiplying like divine comedy.Became… rabbits again.
Too many rabbits.
But normal rabbits.
The farmer collapsed in gratitude.People cheered.
Aiden sat up.
"You could've fixed this the entire time."
"Yes."
"And you didn't because…?"
"You needed to try first."
Aiden groaned and flopped back into the grass.
"I'm filing a complaint."
"With whom?"
"The universe."
The fae chuckled lightly.
"They have an entire department for those."
He stood.
"Come, Aiden. Today was… educational."
"Painfully," Aiden muttered.
"Those are the ones that stay with you."
Aiden sighed and pushed himself upright.
A breeze drifted across the field.
Just for a heartbeat—
the air shifted.
Not ominous.
Not dangerous.
Just… acknowledging something Aiden could not see.
The fae's eyes flicked upward for a fraction of a second,
as though something distant had checked in.
He smiled.
Smooth.
Reassuring.
Entirely normal.
"Onward then," he said lightly.
Aiden opened his mouth to ask why he looked thoughtful—
Then he felt it.
The tug.
Another wish.
Of course.
The fae tilted his head.
"There," he said calmly. "Someone else is about to make a spectacularly questionable decision."
Aiden groaned.
"Of course they are."
He rolled his shoulders.
Steeled himself.
"…Let's go."
The fae watched him walk forward.
And for the smallest moment—
not even long enough to name—
something like quiet patience passed through his gaze.
Then it was gone.
And the day continued,
as if nothing at all had been waiting.