Aidan woke up to the scratchy licking of a tongue on his face. Blinking to clear the sleep, he looked around and found himself lying on the ground in a verdant wood surrounded by tall trees. The fluffiest dark gray creature licking him hopped away and chirped a laugh. Nearby lay a beautiful young woman, curled up and snoring lightly. He could just make out the short, velvety stubs of her antlers.

What a birthday it had been.

The day before…

Aidan’s alarm blared out punctually at five. The obnoxious beeping that was part fire alarm, part police siren, caused him to bolt upright and smack it right out of the wall.

With a groaning sigh, he lay back down. It was Tuesday. Aidan hated Tuesdays. To be fair, he hated most every day. This particular day was shaping up to be worse than usual because it also happened to be his 21st birthday and the anniversary of his parent's accident.

He wallowed for a bit longer in bed but then pried himself up and went to have a light breakfast. Grabbing his only spoon and bowl from the sink, he ran some water and gave it a quick rinse; that was clean enough for him.

He glanced around the cramped studio apartment and noted the pile of laundry, clawed-up secondhand couch, and Xbox. Maybe it was time to grow up. He’s an adult now and should act like it.

After the bowl of peanut butter puffs, that is. Couldn’t waste food. That’s adult.

The last three years had been rough for Aidan. Family was the center of his life, and losing them devastated him. He was so close to graduation at the time and had more than enough credits, so he was able to get the school to grant his diploma early. The settlement money he received was enough to get him an apartment and let him live and go to college if he was frugal.

But he never went back to school. The days melded together into a blur as he drifted from the friends he did have. The melancholy was rooted quite deep.

He had changed physically, too. His body was more lithe than skinny now as he had taken to running. He could focus on the rhythm of his feet, and his music or podcasts were distractions from the malaise. His copper hair was unruly and longer than it ever had been, shaggy even.

He took a deep breath and decided he’d start growing up now.

An hour or so later, Aidan was cleaned up and dressed in his only clean clothes, a dark gray hoodie and some ripped jeans. He went down and took his Uber to the cemetery, stopping along the way to pick up flowers and a pint.

Rocky Road had always been his mom’s favorite.

The car pulled up to the entrance of Hollow Oaks, and Aidan asked the driver to stop at the gates. He wanted to take his time walking to their site. He looked at the gentle hills and the old headstones with a few gnarled, twisty trees and manicured hedges.

His parents were in the oldest section of the graveyard in a family plot, a short walk down the white limestone gravel path near the old forest where cemetery and wood mingled.

He crested the last rise and saw something out of place. In front of the headstone was a brown leather envelope. His forehead crinkled in confusion. He had been the only one at the funeral, and he didn’t know of anyone else who had ever visited.

Aidan stooped and set down the ice cream and flowers beside the stone and took up the leather holder. It was embossed in gilt letters straight out of a fantasy novel that wrapped in a circle around a stylized, broad tree with roots and was closed tight with leather laces.

He stood and craned his head, scanning for signs of anyone watching or cameras recording, but saw nothing.

Aidan gently opened and removed a parchment with brightly colored borders, flourishes, and illustrations of knights in gold on white chargers. He was surprised to see it addressed to him:

Aidan Duir, a charaid choir,

Being this the day of your majority and being the sole heir of the Duir line, possessing the responsibilities and entitlements therein, you are bequeathed your legacy as a Squire of the Tuath.

You are hereby charged with bearing forth leaf and acorn of oak and presenting them to any member of the Sìdh at your earliest convenience.

Le fior deagh dùrachd

Kiernen Mohan, Order of Ban Sith

Aidan read the letter three times.

“Nope, this can’t be real,” he muttered. His father had put him to bed as a boy on tales of the Dagda, Morrígan, and Lugh, so he recognized some of the references, but this was over the top. “Gotta be a prank.”

Aidan looked around again, ”Alright, ya asshole! Where are you? Come out and we can talk about your bad taste in jokes!”

Not a rustle. Aidan snorted and ground his teeth.

He took the second sheet, which was thicker and made of an animal hide. It was old. Really old. The paints had a faded permanence about them, and the pictures were more primitive.

There was a path marked on the hide. Starting at a tree, the path led through a mist to a hill surrounded by stones and bearing a dark opening. Three circles surrounded the hill, and the sun was setting in the distance. Primitive deer, intricate knots, and images of nature decorated the skin.

“Well, that’s less than helpful. Start at a tree and go to a hill with a cave.” He looked around,” If you’re gonna give me a joke of a quest, you could at least make the instructions useful!”

He looked at the map again, and a series of characters appeared in gold. They weren’t anything that he could read, but he heard the words as he looked at them:

Fealty to the oak and honor there,

Traverse the misty paths without fear,

To the mound crossing in between times

Thrice round, entrance here.

Well, isn’t that nice, he thought, they even got it to rhyme in English. Nice effects though.

Aidan knelt at his parents’ grave and placed the flowers in the vase. Taking the ice cream, he spoke to his parents,” Hey Mom, Dad. I can’t tell you how much I miss you today. I made it! I’m an adult.”

This was so hard. “Some jerk left a package here with a joke you’d appreciate, Dad. It’s right out of one of your old stories. Tuatha and banshee and all.” He chuckled,” I’ve even been given a quest. Anyways. I miss you both so much. And I hope to make you proud; I’ve been pretty aimless, and ‘willful waste makes woeful want’, right Dad? I’m gonna go now, but I’ll be back soon. I love you both!”

Aidan turned with his head down and wiped away the tears rolling down his cheek. A gray flash brought his head up in a jerk.

“What was that?”

He went to the path and headed toward the exit when he saw the flash again. It was off towards one of the trees. When Aidan arrived, he saw a large, dark gray rabbit with fluffy fur and golden eyes. It didn’t seem scared of him at all.

“How’d you get here little guy?” He reached out towards it. “AAAHHHG YA Bastard!”

He sucked on his finger where the little thing had taken a chunk out and heard laughter.

Aidan spun about.

“Who’s there?”

“I didn’t give you permission to touch me boy.”

Very slowly, Aidan looked down. The rabbit was sitting on its back feet, looking up at him.

“I’ve lost my mind.” He closed his eyes and rubbed his temples.

“No, you haven’t lad. Believe what’s in front of your face.”

He looked down again,” OK then, I’ll play along. Who are you?”

“You may call me Arren.”

“Aaron, huh? Well, Aaron..”

“ARREN! Not Aye-ron!”

“Got it, got it. Arrrren,” at which the rabbit rolled its eyes,” who are you? Why are you here?”

“To make sure you don’t go off the path and because two people shorten the road.”

Aidan smiled. “My dad always said that. He had a lot of sayings.”

“Your da was a fair one. He and your mum are why I’m here now. I always repay my debts.” So saying, Arren gave a curt nod of his head.

“You knew my parents?”

“Of course, boy. You think I show myself to every weeping willow? They were fine. Mighty fine. And now it’s to you it’s fallen to take up their haft. So no more wasting about! No mornings sun lasts all day. Let’s be about our business.” Arren hopped off towards the great oak at the edge of the cemetery.

When Aidan didn’t move, Arren paused to look back, “Well, come on with you.”

“Where to? What’s this all about? I’m not following after a talking rabbit into the woods. I’m not Alice!”

“No, lad, you’re not. And I’m a Pùca, not a rabbit. You are Duir. One of the oaks of the Tuatha. It’s your blood. You have more in you than you know, and it will bring you through. Now then, do you want your legacy, or do you wish to go back and pretend this was all a dream, never reaching for what could be?”

Aidan looked at the path home, turned, and followed Arren.