The Ellington Forest

By Alex K. Warren

There are few things more frustrating for a teenage witch than finding herself in an age-old battle between good and evil. Kels is no ordinary teenager, and she is about to learn just how powerful she is.

Kels has lived her entire life sheltered in the forest with her mother, Jane. But when Kels comes across her mom’s secret past and learns the truth about herself, everything changes. Add a magical boy wonder and a soulless magician who wants to rule the world and Kels’s world is turned upside down.

With three generations of Ellingtons and four stories diverging into one, we come to see that life as we know it is only as revealing as we wish it to be. If we dig a little deeper—into our true nature, that is—we will find who we really are and what we are capable of doing.

• Language: English
• Publisher: iUniverse
• Release date: Nov 17, 2017
• ISBN: 9781532035654

Alex K. Warren

Alex K. Warren graduated from the Ohio State University. He has published five titles: two works of fiction, one work of nonfiction, and two poetry-based titles. He currently resides in Columbus, Ohio. This is his seventh publication.

Book preview

Prologue

The Birth of a Curse…or, You Know, a Witch

Kels’s Story

Kels knew from the beginning that her death would be worth it. But after all of the pain and confusion, essentially becoming a permanent part of her everyday life, she could never tell why it was her and not someone else. Why was she chosen for this task? Why did it all come down to her? As the days slowly faded away, she understood: her life would be demanding, and it had been that way from the day she was born.

It was not a normal birth. Her mother gripped the ground outside as only a true sorcerer of nature would. The earth trembled beneath her back as she tried to stay calm. No one else was around to facilitate the birth; Jane had done that purposefully. She knew that if word got out that Jane the Sorcerer was birthing a child, both she and the child would be in harm’s way. She couldn’t have that; she knew why her child was being born.

She would become a mother to a daughter of many…well, let’s call them talents. Jane’s home was located about ten miles outside the Ellington Forest in the heart of the Oakland Woods. It was here where her daughter, Kels, would be born: sworn to a life even her mother couldn’t fully understand. But she knew the necessity of her daughter: only she could save the world.

Kels’s childhood was fairly normal. She played in the woods and caught frogs, bringing them back to the house. Her mother quickly refused to let her come in with those so-called abominations. She’d then set them back in their puddles and would go on to hike the trail leading to the Ellington Forest, wondering what was on the other side. Jane knew this might happen as Kels grew older, so she had cast a magical ward around the area, keeping Kels out of harm’s way. But as Kels’s desire grew to journey farther out of the woods, her curiosity began to get the best of her. Jane was prepared for this too.

Mommy?

Yes, Kels.

What’s back there?

Back where?

In that forest.

Nothing to worry your little head about. Now come set the table so we can eat.

Jane often deflected this question. Not out of wanting to keep her daughter in the dark about how truly magical the surrounding area was, but because she knew a day would come where Kels would have to discover the mystical landscape for herself. It wasn’t her secret to spill.

Around the age of sixteen Kels began to show the mystifying horrors of being a teenage witch. She didn’t yet know how to construct magical séances or cast spells to make flowers grow and wildlife stir. But she did know how to throw a thoroughly planned fit in the most extravagant way. Books would go flying across the room. Glass piled on the floor, giving Jane an exact understanding of why teenage witches should not have access to any material that can shatter into pieces.

Her anger grew by the day. She wanted to hang out with other teenagers who were doing teenage things with the recklessness that comes with teenage years. Jane wouldn’t allow it. She knew Kels would grow up to become something completely different, a true opposite of her teenage counterparts. Plus it wasn’t like there was another teenager within a five-mile radius. Instead she would do what others her age dreaded most: study.

It was one mystical book after another, followed by different geometrical problems that, though Kels would never admit it, seemed to have more practical uses than simple textbook privilege. She would study different ideologies mixed in with well-known philosophers like Aristotle and Socrates and so on: tested on the general thesis of what their beliefs meant, followed by the full range of examples showing how she would use their beliefs in today’s natural world. Jane watched approvingly while Kels made it as clear as possible how much fun she was not having doing such menial work.

This is a drag, Kels said, after tossing aside a copy of The Nicomachean Ethics.

What’s a drag? Jane asked.

Boring, dull, wasteful, painstakingly mundane, obsolete…

Well it’s good to know the many synonyms I suppose, Jane responded, acutely aware of the term drag. She was happy to see in her daughter the same sarcastic attitude that had once gotten Jane expelled from the School of Modern Witchery.

Just because you do not like it doesn’t mean it won’t serve you in the future.

You keep saying that, Kels replied, as she felt any teenager in her position would.

Because it’s true and you know it.

Kels stayed quiet for a moment. She couldn’t figure out why on earth she was kept cooped up with her mom or how, despite her overdramatic fits, her mother came to terms with this miserable living agreement.

I hate it here!

No you don’t.

"YES, I do!"

Then do something about it. Though I doubt you will get far.

Kels stormed off to her room and slammed the door. Jane continued rocking in her chair and reading her copy of Yell Less, Love More by Sheila McCraith.

If only it were that simple, Sheila, if only it were that simple…

PART I

Chapter 1

AN UNLUCKY BREAK

Kels’s Story

A crashing sound came from upstairs: more shattering glass.

"It’s not fair!"

Jane didn’t even bother getting up. She couldn’t bring herself to count how many precious items of hers had suffered the same ending. Maybe I should move them away from her room. The thought often crossed her mind moments after it was too late, and she refused to use her magic to fix what would later be smashed again.

I will not go up there, I will not go up there, I will not go up there, Jane kept repeating to herself.

Crash!

Another few items smashed to the ground.

"You can’t make me stay here!"

It took everything Jane had learned about restraint to not go up to Kels’s room and cast a sound-barrier spell, encasing her in infinite silence for the remainder of the day. Or at least until Kels gained enough sense to realize that the more glass laying spattered across her floor, the more she would have to clean up.

For a short while after there was silence. No movement upstairs. No more smashing dishes.

This can’t be good, Jane thought.

She was seconds from running upstairs. The most horrifying sound to a parent of a sixteen-year-old is complete and utter silence. She set down her book only to find Kels standing behind her just between the entryway of the living room and kitchen.

Why are you doing this? Kels asked in a stern tone.

You know why.

No, I actually don’t.

Jane looked straight into her daughter’s eyes.

For once, just think.

She didn’t know for sure if her daughter knew everything, but she knew her daughter was no dummy. All of this time spent in her books on philosophy and mystical teachings could only make some things so obvious. You have to pick up on this. Jane hoped Kels had felt something by now, like she had growing up. Having magic rushing through your body twenty-four/seven is not an easy feeling to dismiss. This worried Jane more than anything else.

Think, Kels. What do you feel? What do you see in me? What do you see in yourself? Think! At any moment she was hoping her daughter would hear her telepathic words. Nothing happened.

Why are you staring at me like that?

Kels made a disgruntled face, turned around, and headed back to her room.

It’s too soon, was all Jane could tell herself. It’s too soon.

Chapter 2

EGYPTIAN INCANTATIONS

Kels’s Story

The next day the cycle started over. Jane made breakfast. Kels ate in silence. Jane set her own food in the microwave for later. She sat across from Kels reading a book her daughter hadn’t seen before.

What is that?

What is what?

The book you’re reading, Kels said.

She was beginning to act annoyed at how this was more of a conversation than a simple answer. Jane could see her agitation, knowing she could either give her what she wanted or she could see how far her daughter’s curiosity would last. She chose the latter.

"Egyptian Incantations, Volume Eleven, why do you ask?"

I’ve never seen that book before.

There are a lot of books I’ve been reading that you’ve never seen before, but you haven’t asked about them. What makes you so curious about this one?

This was the most they had talked recently, outside of Jane’s lectures. Kels had lost interest in talking after sixteen years of going over the same topics and settling on the fact that nothing had truly changed in their world. Jane felt there was so much more she could share with her daughter: her memories of being kicked out of school, the wizard she met who ultimately ended up being Kels’s father, the sorcerer’s battle against the dragon of Jordan, and more experiences she knew would catch her attention. But she couldn’t because Kels still didn’t know what she was. It was a code of sorts among sorcerers and wizards that they could not reveal their past to any offspring, if the offspring does not first see in themselves their own truth. This kept the confusion to a minimum. If one broke the code, there wouldn’t be any immediate penalty. But more often than not, the son or daughter receiving the news would claim their parents to be unfit, which complicated things, to say the least. Plus, Kels wasn’t curious enough to ask about her mother’s past. For all she knew Jane was a harlot banished from any normal form of society.

I don’t know, Kels responded. Just seems interesting.

Interesting? I thought you hated reading. Especially after all of the lectures.

Ugh, never mind. Kels got up to put her dish and utensils away, heading directly back to her bedroom.

Kels, Jane said, in an attempt to catch her attention before she’d lose it for possibly the rest of the day.

What, Mom?

Would you like me to get you the first volume of the book?

Sure, Kels mumbled, still agitated from the whole conversation.

Okay, Jane said with a smile.

Kels gave her a disgruntled look and walked back to her room, slamming the door shut. Jane went back to reading her book, continuously smiling while she read along.

This might be it, she said silently to herself.

Chapter 3

PB&J AND THE MOM WHO NEEDED…SOMETHING ELSE

Kels’s Story

Jane stayed up late that night. There were moments where she would be so wrapped up in a book that time itself seemed to stop. She loved reading the writings of experienced sorcerers sharing their views on the ideal life of a magical being. Yet tonight it was something different, unsettling her mind to the point of no sleep.

She stared at the clock. It was ten past one.

What in the world am I doing up? she muttered to herself.

"Not sleeping, obviously."

Jane turned around to meet her daughter’s gaze. She was drowsily making her way to the kitchen for a way-past-midnight snack. She pulled out a plate, two loaves of bread, peanut butter, and some homemade jelly that reminded Jane of the countryside.

So you want to tell me what’s going on, she said while laying the peanut butter on thick, barely spreading it because it was her favorite part of a classic PB&J.

It’s nothing, Jane lied.

Whatever.

Kels finished making her sandwich and sat in a rocking chair adjacent to her mother. She took the first bite. Complete satisfaction showed across her face.

You know, Kels began, and then stopped to finish chewing.

It’s not like I have anyone to tell. I’m kind of trapped here, which I’m now totally fine with because I’m pretty sure PB&J doesn’t exist out in the woods.

Well that’s good to know.

I’m just saying, if it’s a secret you’re worried about, or some secret lust for some strange—which, by the way, I’d completely understand—you can still tell me.

Thanks, Jane said, cutting off her daughter’s last word.

But I’m perfectly fine. You know we still start lessons at seven in the morning regardless of whether we have this talk or not, right?

So there is something bothering you.

No.

Then what talk would we be having?

Jane figured this is what she was owed from her own rebellious teen years when she tried to outwit her parents in the hopes they might admit they were wrong and she was right. She did this often because it seemed to never faze her parents. They would never give in even if they were completely wrong or if they told a lie. They simply stuck to whatever course of action they started and let teenage Jane wriggle in her skin until she finally stormed off back into her room. She found herself now more than ever wishing she knew the secret to how they kept so calm. Maybe it was a team thing, Mom and Dad. It would make more sense that way.

There’s no conversation to be had. Now go to bed.

You know I’m too old for that, right? I’m up by seven either way, whether I receive a full night’s rest or watch YouTube compilations of other teenagers having fun while I’m trapped in this prison of a household, doing my best to get out on good behavior by solving the troubles of my clearly disturbed warden who really, really needs to get super laid, I mean, so much so to the point where—

"Go upstairs, now!"

Well, so much for keeping my patience.

Fine, fine, I’m going.

Kels smiled, leaving victorious in the ongoing battle of who would break whom first. Jane had been winning up until now, never showing an ounce of emotion. Once Kels entered her room she thought back to all the times where it was her losing her cool. Not once could she remember her mother getting so upset, furthering Kels’s curiosity for why tonight was different.

Chapter 4

BLUE FLAMES AND JEALOUS CLASSMATES

Jane’s Story

The next day started as usual: Jane making breakfast, Kels pushing the limits to how much hot water she could use in one sitting, and the nature’s hum of a few morning birds chirping as they flew by the house. Jane didn’t get much sleep the night before. She remembered back to how she had a claim in the magical forces when she was young. The transition from the public school system to a private witch academy seemed to happen overnight. Her parents were patient folk, but when it came time for her to be accepted into the magical world, they had set plans and a strict curriculum.

She should have started earlier, Jane overheard her mom say.

Honey, you know these situations are completely out of anyone’s control. They have to come about naturally.

Yes, but what about the other kids?

What about them?

She’ll be starting at least three years behind. I mean, she’s already eight years old!

Honey, she’ll be fine. She’s a quick learner who’s already surpassed the public school’s system of learning. She has friends here, and she’ll be able to make friends there too. The social aspect is the hardest part, and she already has that down.

I don’t know, Sam. Do you really think she’s ready for the transition this late in life?

Yes, honey. She will be fine. The hardest part will be for us. We’ll have to break the news to her.

Jane had never heard her parents talk about her in such a capacity. She was a good student in her elementary years: getting A’s across the board while also having slumber parties every so often. She saw most of this as being fun. She loved to read and she loved to gossip, most of it aimed toward boys her age and how disgusting they were when they showed off the worms they had picked or the scab they had freshly peeled. What she just heard would unravel everything she had worked so hard to build.

All of this is happening because of my stupid hands.

Jane looked down at them in disgust. She was sent to the principal’s office after reports of a child running around the playground with what appeared to be blue flames engulfing her hands. It was a weird sight to behold, but the experience was even stranger for her. She couldn’t feel the heat at all. The only thing she could feel was enormous amounts of energy pulsating through her body, looking for any exit it could find.

She screamed as soon as it happened. It took her classmates a while to figure out what was going on: they saw the flames, noticed Jane screaming, and then looked back at her hands again to make sure this wasn’t some sort of hallucination. Many of her classmates displayed mixed emotions about what was happening. Some of the boys summed it up to Jane becoming the superhero they’d always wanted to be, and they envied her. A few of her girl classmates found it annoying and an all-too-obvious desperate cry for attention. The teacher freaked the hell out, running into the school, waving her hands frantically for someone who could help.

The principal arrived with a look of pure agitation, which must have stemmed from the conversation between him and the teacher. His reaction to the horrifying sight was similar to that of little Jane’s classmates: he looked at the flames—fully engulfing her hands—while she was still sitting on the ground, looked up to see Jane’s calm reaction, and then looked back down at Jane’s fully engulfed hands, resulting in the principal also freaking the hell out, running as wildly as the teacher had before, and dialing frantically for the fire department, ambulance, and the police. He later apologized to the two officers who showed up because he knew there was nothing they could do but he felt safer knowing that they were there to witness the whole event.

It took all of an hour for her hands to finally flame out, leaving no marks other than the psychological ones for the teacher, the principal, and Jane. Her parents were called, and they showed up immediately after the incident concluded. The principal tried to explain what happened, still clearly shaken. Once it was all done, Jane’s father made a statement he’d never thought he’d have to make before: I promise you, sir, she will never produce blue flaming hands in this school again.

The talk Jane had with her parents that night resulted in her crying for the next five days in her room, as her parents packed everything she would need. She wouldn’t be able to say good-bye to her friends. She wouldn’t be able to come back to the very city that birthed her and watched her grow. The sadness turned into anger directly focused at her parents. They made it clear there was a chance this could happen again, but they didn’t let her in on their devastating secret, making her all the more unruly and rebellious, a teen witch who would be kicked out of one high school after another.

Jane thought back to these memories with a small sort of satisfaction mixed with an upending sort of fear. She was glad to know her daughter was showing interest in a magical text, though she still did not show signs of any blue flames surrounding her hands. The fear came from knowing Kels would not be afforded the same luxury of going to an all-girl, all-witch school to learn her craft. Kels would be a special case due to the higher purpose that was placed upon her. Jane would have to be her daughter’s teacher. She would have to show her daughter the mystical, dark, and dangerous ways of magic.

Chapter 5

HOW NOT TO SET YOURSELF ON FIRE

Kels’s Story

Do you have any other volumes I can read?

"Of the Egyptian Incantations book?"

No, of the Fifty Ways to Escape Home series.

Jane rolled her eyes this time.

All you had to say was yes.

It was late afternoon, and Jane was outside on the porch enjoying the weather and another good book. Kels was inside; yelling out from her bedroom window trying to find the next volume to read, since her lessons were over and the Wi-Fi was out.

Look in my second drawer to the right.

You have three dressers in here, which one?

Jane was becoming annoyed, but she did see how this could be confusing. The average person usually has one dresser for night attire along with a mixed assortment of underwear and unevenly paired socks. Not Jane. She had a black shay dresser with a vanity mirror hanging over the top for when she needed to apply makeup and make sure she looked just miserable enough to pass as a single mother, but pretty enough to not look as if she needed a partner.

She also had a brown Timberline dresser, an older dresser that always seemed to be covered in dust, which seemed suitable since it held all of her knickknacks and other assortments along