Carved 'n Evercraft'd

"Autumn Cozy Fantasy Challenge": Days #21 & #22

Oct 31, 2025

A Wickedly Witchy Cottage Cove Tale

Halloween in Cottage Cove has always been something special.

This year, though? With the local gnomelings having prompted a full blown magical awakening? It was going to be utterly spooktacular.

At least, that was how Olivia Evercraft saw it.

Unlike her sister, Tara, who had been somewhat at odds with the fact that she was a witch since birth, Olivia and her youngest sister, Grace were proud of their lineage.

Proud of their powers.

Sure, they grew up only being allowed to fully embrace their full witchy potential within the confines of their cottage. Or their Gran’s. Or around the few other young witches they grew up with.

But, now? Now, all of Cottage Cove knew of the witches. Of magic.

And Olivia simply refused to hide any longer.

She threw her black velvet quilt back with the sort of bravado one would flip the tail of a well worn cape. Confident, bold, and positively full of drama. And that was Olivia in a nutshell.

Perk #1 of being an Evercraft Witch: no time was wasted on a morning beauty routine.

Certainly not because they were above a little vanity—I assure you, they were not. But because their Gran, in due time, ensured her precious granddaughters were brought up with the proper spellwork.

With a quick snap of Olivia’s ruby painted fingertips, her natural beauty was enhanced instantaneously. Prompting an immediate and unending glow of her snow white skin.

Her red lips perfectly matched her nails, and her cheekbones were positively striking thanks to the gentle, yet expert, contour her magically applied makeup provided.

She didn’t need much, none of the Evercraft women did, to go from utterly gorgeous to painstakingly breathtaking in the matter of seconds.

She popped her plump lips and peered into the oval looking glass. Tilting her head to further inspect her reflection, she ran a slender flared finger along the lines of her face, finishing with a hand perched beneath her chiseled jaw, admiring.

Olivia may embrace Vanity and Confidence like old friends, but she was equally kind, hilarious, and even instinctually maternal. As the eldest of three witches, there was simply no other way to be.

As she pulled on a sheer black top piped purposefully with a charming spiderweb pattern, she couldn’t help but think Halloween falling on a Friday this year was kismet.

It practically meant there were two whole weekends dedicated to witchiness, and fall flair.

The townies, though wary—both quietly, and rather loudly so—were also insanely curious nowadays.

The Cove’s enchanted nature being outed had stirred something within the humans that many never thought possible. And whether people loved or hated the town’s newfound magical proclivities… their piqued interest did bring in a certain amount of business that Olivia could only smile about.

Half the hardship of owning your own business was getting people in the door. Once they crossed the threshold? Well, things generally looked up from there. Her enchantments made sure of that.

No, not the kind that persuaded people to spend money on things they didn’t actually want or need. But the kind of protection spells and encouragement charms that kept the ill-sayers at bay, but welcomed the skeptical. Those with genuinely malicious intent? They couldn’t even make it through the sisters’ wards.

But those simply curious, or in need of help, support, a bit of motivation? Inspiration? Courage? Well, the sisters’ apothecary, Evercraft’d, was made for them.

Their Gran had paved the way for the two, and Olivia and Grace began their herbology courses and relevant spellwork from an early age. As early as they could read, in fact. It was a calling.

Grace was particularly gifted with potions, as was Gran. Olivia could hold her own in that regard, it was true.

But her real magic? It lay with Artifactoring—the practice of turning every day objects, trinkets, and baubles into powerful tokens of magics.

There weren’t many witches who were open about their Artifactor abilities. Thanks to all the wretched curses and hexes past witches—more accurately, sorcerers—had inflicted upon otherwise innocuous objects… many believed the practice to be a source of Dark Magicks.

But that just was not true.

The sorcerers, typically men who practiced Dark Magicks, were to blame for said curses and hexes—not the practice of artifactoring.

This was a lifelong gripe of Olivia’s truth be told, and at the thought of it, a begrudged harrumph escaped her crimson pout.

But it was Halloween, and so she flitted that forcibly fleeting thought right out of her witchy brain, zipped up her knee high black leather boots, and headed out the door.

She smiled when she saw the intricately carved pumpkins that now sat near her doorstep.

They got the pompous prestige of my darling familiar’s beak exactly right, she thought.

The cock of his crow head, tilted back and slightly to the right, with one beady eye looking down from his high up perch? Perfect.

Percy will just hate that, the witch thought with a twinkle of a chuckle.

As if he knew she was having a laugh at his expense, her familiar swooped down with a curmudgeonly caw! in greeting.

“Hey, Perc.” Olivia said. “Check it out, pretty perfect, right?” She teased her crow familiar with the same level of crusty endearment she knew he’d use if he could speak in her witchy tongue.

The crow’s feathers ruffled as one eye grew in size, as if he were scrunching the other in distaste. He unknowingly took on the same pompous stare carved into the pumpkin, and abruptly tore his avian gaze from hers in an attempt to peck at the spectacular portrait.

She scoffed and screeched, admonishing the grouch of a bird, “oh, you’re no fun, you. Quit that!”

She swished a hand, placing a protection shield around all three artful pumpkins atop her porch steps.

The bird flew back with a jolt as though a sudden burst of electricity sparked straight into his pointed beak.

Olivia attempted to squelch the smirk that threatened to lift the corners of her mouth. Only one side prevailed as she bit her cheek to suppress it. Serves ya right, she thought.

Percy, unharmed aside from a bruised and battered ego, lifted a single wing and batted it down harshly, as if to shoo away his witchy accessory.

She laughed and shook her head at his antics, taking long, graceful strides as she walked the short jaunt into downtown Cottage Cove.

The Coffee Cauldron was buzzing with patrons. Their brews were always a force of nature, but the shop’s witchy owner, Izadora, especially had a knack for making holiday specialties that were out of this world. They always brought in clientele from neighboring towns, and the line out the door made Olivia’s feet work at double speed.

The sight of so many soon-to-be caffeine filled Halloween lovers? Well, it filled her witchy heart. And she had an entire weekend ahead to look forward to those still out celebrating the fall fair.

“Morning!” Grace sing-songed when Olivia finally graced her with her presence.

The bell over the door jingled momentarily before Olivia quickly bolted the lock back into place. Her sister was the morning person, so she always came in early to get her half of the work done. Olivia much preferred to sleep in, and take on the closing tasks each day.

“Hey, you,” she said, unbuttoning the sleek silk-lined jacket over her festive fit and hanging it on the coatrack in the corner.

Her darling familiar, curmudgeonly though he may be, always left Olivia a pack of trinkets at the back of the shop, through a small doggy-type-door, only big enough for two short hamsters, or a crow in flight, to get through.

Olivia retrieved a velvet green sack and loosened the drawstrings with care—she never did know what would be inside, nor how fragile its contents may be.

Today, her bird left her gifts of acorns, the perfect addition to their Autumn Breeze Potpourri!, tiger-eye buttons, great for sewing onto poppets to increase balance and self-empowerment!, and… was that bones?

Olivia let the remnants of the bones fall to the desk in front of her, a slight scowl of disapproval marring her features as she upended the velvet sack.

“Huh,” Grace said, one hand under her chin as she took in the tiny bones, “well, at least we know they’re not human.” She said, daring to hold a singular narrow bone between her forefinger and thumb.

Setting the bones aside, Olivia made quick work of artifactoring her acceptable baubles into some of the already enchanted trinkets in the shop.

Though not every gift, charm, or bag was labeled with the precise enchantment it beheld, there was never any danger in patrons choosing or handling the items. The sisters were lightworkers afterall. Healers. They did nothing with ill intent, and did not have an ounce of Dark Magicks within their witchy bones.

Everything they infused with magics could only serve to benefit its beholder, if said person chose a path enriched with its encouragement, that is.

The grandfather clock in the front corner of the shop struck nine. Grace rushed to the door as it chimed, unbolting the lock and propping the door slightly ajar.

The cool breeze blew in fallen dried leaves and the enticing scent of pumpkin spiced scones, and carrot cake lattes.

Both sisters breathed it in longingly, and Olivia wished she had the time to brave the cafe’s long line.

Just then, the sisters’ human bestie bustled through their door, carrying three lattes with jack-o-lantern stoppers, and an extra large bakery bag that smelled like heaven itself.

“Hunter, you absolute saint!” Grace cooed at the same time as Olivia teased, “Ahhh! Hunter, are you sure you won’t take me up on that marriage proposal?”

Their friend laughed a high-pitched and goodnatured cackle as he set the treasures in front of his two favorite witches. “Boo, I told you… if you ever decide to magic yourself into the form of a hunky-dunky man anytime soon, I’m all yours.” Olivia smiled.

She had been terrified for Hunter to learn her Evercraft secret… but also relieved when he did.

Living most of her lifetime with a bestie who only knew part of her truth had been torture. She’d worried he’d feel betrayed by her, and her family’s, omissions over the past sixteen years.

Instead, he proved even further how perfect a man he was.

He had simply waved a hand, and with pursed lips, matter of factly stated, “girl, please. I know you’re a witch.”

Olivia and Grace had looked at each other, “you do?!” they said simultaneously.

“Pshhh, sure! Honey, look at you!” and as if that were explanation enough, he’d shrugged his shoulders and went on with his day.

Since then, though, he’d taken advantage of his BFF status with the two witches, and had set out to bust all the local myths and legends, or, to prove their sincerity. One magic-y question at a time.

Today he asked, “so, the pumpkins. What’s the deal there? I woke up this morning—and you know how Trevor has that farmer-worthy garden in the back?—well, that whole damn pumpkin patch he’d grown was pierced, punctured, and carved! Every one of ‘em, honey. And you know what else? It was like they told a story. An eerie one, mind you…”

He shivered a grimace, remembering something within the pumpkins’ message. The sisters looked at each other in concern before he continued.

“There were spiders, and webs, and bones…” he shook again and Olivia bit her lip, failing yet again to suppress a rueful smirk. Hunter hated spiders.

“Well…” Grace spoke tentatively, “that seems pretty on brand for… Halloween.” She said it as if it were an apology to even point out the spooky nature of said spiders, webs, and bones…

But the mention of bones made Olivia think of the velvet sack she’d set aside moments ago.

Olivia was pulled quickly away from her thoughts, though, when Hunter reiterated his question. This time directly asking, “but who carved those pumpkins?” He looked expectantly between the witches, with arms crossed and a finger pointed directly at them for emphasis.

“Oh. The gnomelings, of course.” Grace said nonchalantly.

“Riiight….” he said.

“And the Brownies. They both have pretty insane artistic abilities.” Olivia added. Grace nodded.

“Right,” Hunter repeated. Then, he pulled out his phone and showed the pair photos of Trevor’s carved up pumpkin patch.

Prickles ran up the length of Olivia’s arms as she stole his phone and zoomed in on the spiders. And the bones.

The bell atop the door chimed, pulling Olivia from her trance.

Grace plopped a pointed black hat on her sister’s head, her own witch’s hat bobbing in delight as she went to greet the day’s first round of Halloween customers.

I hope you enjoyed this Cottage Cove Tale. Today’s story was thanks to a mashup of (2) prompts from The Cozy Council.

I must say, I am sad the prompts/challenge end(s) today! But Cottage Cove is here to stay. I mean, we must figure out what it is those spiders are up to…

Creatively Chronicled ✨

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