Page 2 of Elven Kisses & Winter Wishes

She shakes her head, not looking offended. “Evershift Haven is a magical town, hidden from the rest of the world. Remember all those stories we used to read as kids? The ones about fairies and unicorns and magic? They’re all real.”

I shake my head. “That’s impossible. Magic isn’t real. This has to be some kind of... I don’t know, mass hallucination or elaborate prank or—”

“Or magic,” she says gently. “I know it’s hard to believe, but you’ve seen it with your own eyes. The barrier, the plants, the unicorn—”

“That could all be special effects or holograms or—”

Candice sighs, then snaps her fingers. Instantly, her hair begins to change color, cycling through a rainbow of hues before settling back to its natural blonde.

I stumble backward. “How did you do that?”

She grins. “Magic. I’ve been practicing. Cool, right?”

I stare at her, my mind reeling. Everything I thought I knew about the world is crumbling around me. “This can’t be happening,” I whisper.

She takes my hands in hers. “I know it’s overwhelming, but think about it, Ev. You’ve been searching for your ‘thing’ for so long. Maybe this is it. Maybe magic is what you’ve been missing all along.”

I look around the clearing, taking in the impossible sights. The flowers popping out of the snow, the shimmering air, and the giant onion house. Part of me wants to run screaming back to the barrier, to the safe, logical world I’ve always known.

But another part, a part I’ve kept buried for years, feels a spark of excitement. Of wonder. Of possibility. “Okay,” I say slowly. “Let’s say, hypothetically, that I believe you. That all of this is real. What does that mean for me?”

She smiles. “It means you get to explore a whole new world. There’s so much to see and learn here, and who knows? Maybe you’ll discover your own magical talents.”

I raise an eyebrow. “You think I might be magical?”

She shrugs. “Only one way to find out. So, what do you say? Want to give Evershift Haven a chance?”

I inhale sharply before exhaling, looking from Candice to the onion house to the magical forest beyond. Everything in me screams that this is crazy, impossible, and dangerous, but there’s a flicker of excitement. “All right,” I say, squaring my shoulders. “Show me this magical world of yours.”

Candice squeals, pulling me into a tight hug. “You won’t regret this, Ev. Come on, let’s start with a tour of my onion.”

As she leads me toward the improbable vegetable dwelling, I wonder what other impossibilities await me in Evershift Haven. For better or worse, it seems my life is about to change dramatically.

And honestly? I’m kind of looking forward to it.

I approach the giant onion house, my eyes wide with disbelief. The golden, papery skin shimmers in the sunlight, and I can’t shake the feeling that I’ve stumbled into some bizarre fairytale.

“Welcome to our humble abode,” Candice says, gesturing grandly at the oversized vegetable. “Grizelda really outdid herself with this one.”

“Grizelda,” I repeat, trying to keep my voice steady. “The town witch, who apparently grows houses from produce?” I think that’s what she told me in her email.

“She also keeps the barrier between us and the human world standing...most of the time.” Candice laughs. “She’s amazing, isn’t she? Come on, let’s go inside.”

Nearing the entrance, a faint, familiar scent wafts through the air. I wrinkle my nose. “Is that...”

“Onion?” Candice finishes. “Yep, but don’t worry. It’s not overwhelming. Just a little reminder of our home’s origins.”

She pushes open the door, and I step inside, bracing myself for... I don’t know what. The interior is surprisingly normal at first glance—a cozy living room with comfortable-looking furniture and warm, earthy tones, but as I look closer, I notice the subtle details that betray the house’s unusual nature.

The walls curve gently, following the natural shape of the onion. Light filters through the papery skin, creating a golden glow throughout the space. In one corner, a small fountain bubbles, the water a pale purple color.

“That’s onion juice,” she says, noticing my stare. “It’s great for purifying the air and keeping away pests. Plus, it makes the whole place smell amazing.”

I raise an eyebrow. “Amazing” isn’t the word I’d use to describe the scent of onions, but I have to admit, it’s not unpleasant. It’s more like a hint of savory warmth in the air.

She leads me through the living room and into the kitchen. Here, the onion theme is more pronounced. The countertops are a pale, creamy color with subtle striations that mimic onion layers. The light fixtures are shaped like onion blossoms, casting a warm, diffused light.

“Check this out,” says Candice, opening a cabinet. Inside, rows of jars filled with various-colored liquids line the shelves. “Onion preserves. They’re not just for eating—some have magical properties. This red one here? Great for soothing burns, and the green? Helps plants grow faster.”

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