Dawning Life: The Edinön Trilogy: Book 2

By Mitzi C

THE WORLD WILL BURN AT LAST...

Kandi knows the destruction of Earth is inevitable. An army of Demigods is coming to annihilate humans and melt the Earth’s crust, along with all that dwells upon it. Now that Death is dead, she is the only being that stands between the gods and humans... while her true identity remains yet unknown.

Juan has undying faith in Kandi. As her powers continue to expand, he becomes increasingly aware of how helpless he is by comparison. Most of humankind is either dead or mutated, and the world as he knew it has already ended, but he has hope. Hope may be all they need to survive the coming storm.

In Dawning Life, Kandi must accept what she is and embrace her divine destiny... while Juan must grow more in tune with his powers to prepare for what lies ahead.

**this is a sci-fi/fantasy novel suitable for mature young adults, ages 14+**

• Language: English
• Publisher: BookRix
• Release date: Jul 24, 2019
• ISBN: 9783748710660

Book preview

Title page

Dawning Life

MITZI C

© 2017 Mitzi C

http://mitzicbooks.com/

All Rights Reserved. This book or any portion thereof

may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever

without the express written permission of the publisher

except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

Published by Kindle | Direct Publishing

https://kdp.amazon.com/

Cover Art by Damonza

https://damonza.com/

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

This book is dedicated to Mom (of course), the upcoming Apocalypse, and sleep.

The characters and events in this book are fictitious. Any similarity to real events or real persons, living or dead, is coincidental and not intended by the author.

THE WORLD WILL BURN AT LAST...

KANDI knows the destruction of Earth is inevitable. An army of Demigods is coming to annihilate humans and melt the Earth’s crust, along with all that dwells upon it. Now that Death is dead, she is the only being that stands between the gods and humans... while her true identity remains yet unknown.

JUAN has undying faith in Kandi. As her powers continue to expand, he becomes increasingly aware of how helpless he is by comparison. Most of humankind is either dead or mutated, and the world as he knew it has already ended, but he has hope. Hope may be all they need to survive the coming storm.

In DAWNING LIFE, Kandi must accept what she is and embrace her divine destiny... while Juan must grow more in tune with his powers to prepare for what lies ahead.

Table of Contents

PROLOGUE

Sarah: The New Name

Apr. 18, 1997

She only knew silence and darkness before her ears detected distant beeps and high-pitched hums. White light began to penetrate her eyelids, forcing them apart. As her mind feebly attempted to absorb her alien surroundings, the beeping increased in frequency. She curled her fingers into the fabric beneath her and screamed as panic surged through her. In response to her outburst, two females appeared from a rectangular opening in the wall to her right. One female checked the beeping machine beside her while the other injected a chilled fluid into her left arm. Her fingers relaxed, and the beeping noises steadied to their former, slower pattern. Her gaze remained unfocused on the ceiling. She became conscious of her breathing and realized the air felt different. Different from what, she could not tell. She could not remember.

A sonorous voice interrupted her drug-induced reverie. Towering at the entrance to the unfamiliar room was an unfamiliar face. A male with short, golden hair and glowing green eyes smiled compassionately at her.

The male addressed the females in the room, and the females departed. The strange figure then walked toward her and sat in the seat adjacent to the beeping machine. His hands clasped together in his lap as he watched her, an expression of warm affection stretching his perfectly designed features.

Iden, he said, his voice eliciting a quiver in her bones. I am Death, your Guardian. We have arrived on Vuen. Vuen’s sentient inhabitants in your vicinity call this planet Earth and themselves humans. Death placed his palm upon her forehead. A bright emerald light filled the room as she felt languages, images, histories, and trivia flood her mind. She gasped and focused on sorting the new information Death was transmitting.

Here, you may call me Jeremy, Death told her, removing his large hand from her head. As the emerald light died, his smile grew. Your human name is Sarah Vale. Welcome to Earth, Iden.

***

CHAPTER 1

Kandi: The Attack

Feb. 14, 2018

My surroundings perplex me. The floor is a rivulet of red, the walls are making faces, and the ceiling is on fire. Nevertheless, I keep moving as though I am moving toward something, albeit nothing lies ahead. Each step is more taxing than the last. Something is pulling me forward, but something else is holding me back. For the life of me, I can’t figure out what it is.

With difficulty, I glance over my shoulder. It is a hand. Someone is grabbing me.

My knees unexpectedly lock and collide with the sticky floor. I feel like I’m in quicksand.

Kandi! Snap out of it!

Suddenly, my body floats off the ground. The entire world is stained a deep scarlet. I taste copper and stomach acid. I moan and attempt to spit the sour flavor from my tongue, but a liquid is already dripping from my lips of its own accord. I close my eyes, tightly squeezing the same liquid through my lashes. It burns.

Moments later, I feel hot water raining down my face and soaking my hair. My eyes open, and my lungs spasm. I cough up a chunk of red and collapse on my hands and knees, shaking violently.

Large hands run through my hair. My eyes soon detect colors and shapes other than vermillion and warped, animalistic faces. I realize I am in a public shower, and the hands scrubbing my hair belong to a human hybrid. A male. I can smell him through the blood in my nose: sweat combined with a unique spicy smell that tickles my nostrils. That scent belongs to only one person I know.

My hands give way beneath me, and my face smacks against tile. The world rapidly fades from red to black.

***

The next time I open my eyes, I am lying on a flat bedspread, tucked snugly underneath several thick comforters. The ceiling is faintly illuminated by a small lamp in the corner. My eyes rove the closet-sized room: the blank walls and a white door with a brass knob to my left. Against the wall in front of me stands a boy at about 5’11’’ with tousled black hair and eerie ebony eyes. The dim yellow-orange light does wonders to his tan skin. He looks like a cover model for a teen fashion magazine, minus the fashion. (Although I have grown fond of his holey blue jeans and blood/sweat-stained t-shirts.) The shirt today is blue featuring an image of a wolf howling at a full moon.

"Buenos días," he murmurs softly.

My mouth is parched. Good morning, I respond in my head. I can’t help but smile self-consciously. The way Juan looks at me makes my skin tingle – for once in a non-painful way.

It has been approximately seven months since Jeremy died and Time disappeared – along with any shred of optimism I may have possessed. It took two weeks for Leyla to acquire enough of my blood to begin countrywide distribution. The cure was a success. No strange side-effects occurred until global distribution finally accelerated in December, which was difficult because most of the world was comatose by that time. Entire cities, even cities as populous as Dallas and London and Sydney, were dying in their sleep.

Two months later, those who were cured of liquid death (about a third of the world’s population) either gained superpowers or an unquenchable thirst for the blood of the former. Governments no longer exist. The Internet no longer exists. Phones no longer function. Mobocracy reigns where anarchy doesn’t.

In Sunny Days, Leyla Hendricks has labored tirelessly to maintain a semblance of order and stability. It hasn’t entirely been in vain. We are surviving a harsh winter, everyone has daily jobs to perform, and I have only witnessed seven instances where unstable Patients break down and use their powers to damage people or things. However, this is not going to last long. The mobs in this city are growing, and with all the Patients consolidated in one place, we are the cornucopia at a Thanksgiving feast.

Want to grab something to eat? Juan asks quietly.

I slowly shove the blankets off of me, bracing myself for room temperature. I grit my teeth and use the wall for support as I rise to my feet. Juan walks around the blankets on the floor to assist me.

Can I ask you about last night?

My nose is level with his sternum. That special scent of his invades my nasal passages and soothes me like a drug. I nod.

How long have you been having these... episodes? Last night was... rough, to say the least.

Episodes? Oh. Since I was a baby. It normally occurs once a year but has been occurring more often since I turned twenty, as my body’s way of maturing.

So it isn’t harmful?

I shake my head. But it is quite excruciating.

Sunny Days employs the same lunch ladies that provided students with abundant, nutritious meals before. Food comes from food storage and whatever Leyla could salvage before the world crumbled around us. There was a legitimate concern amongst these survivors that our food supply would run short of feeding everyone through winter. I have a feeling this structure Leyla is working so diligently to uphold for the sake of survival will fail before we reach the point of starving.

Due to the close quarters one is required to endure when standing in a line, Juan always offers to gather food for us both while I find a place to sit. I never asked him to do it, but I am extremely grateful that he does.

When he finds me at a wall-facing table, he slides my tray in front of me and sits two seats to the right.

Thank you. I look at him and force a smile. He forces one in return. Did you sleep at all last night? I ask him.

He scoops up a sporkful of eggs and crams it into his mouth. Not a wink.

I want to dunk my head into a pool of lava. I am so sorry.

It’s all right, he concedes. It isn’t your fault. I haven’t had a full night’s rest in months. His eyes sweep over the busy cafeteria while he chews.

Any specific reason why?

He shrugs and continues eating.

I could...

No, he interjects, his left fist gently, but firmly, hitting the table.

Ever since I revealed to him my ability to alleviate pain via skin-to-skin contact, he has not allowed me to touch him, no matter how much he is suffering. He doesn’t think I can handle his pain, so he keeps it to himself. If he allowed me to touch him, I could erase his chronic fatigue. I am thinking of doing it anyway, against his wishes. I would rather feel his pain than helplessly watch him endure it.

I stare at him for a minute, unaware that I haven’t taken a single bite of my food. My appetite is waning.

You should eat, Kandi, Juan says.

Something about him is... off. He usually isn’t this cantankerous.

Just as I am about to pick up my spork, however, a familiar, unwanted presence approaches our table.

Juan, Kandi, greets Kyle, slapping Juan’s shoulder affectionately. He has been calling us by our given names since we returned to Sunny Days following Jeremy’s death. I suppose we aren’t mere Patients to him anymore. We’re good friends. Juan cringes under Kyle’s hand, then whips around. Kyle’s grin weakens. Doctor L needs to see you in her office after breakfast.

Why?

I suspect it has something to do with beefing up security around here.

Juan brushes Kyle’s hand from his shoulder. "We will see Leyla at a time we deem convenient for us."

Kyle smirks and snorts. Whatever, boss. He raises his hands and walks away.

We are standing in Ms. Hendricks’ office, which is not as homey as it once was. Her desk is covered with stacks upon stacks of papers, her file cabinet is disorderly, with files protruding from a few open drawers. Small bits of paper, wrappers, an empty plastic water bottle, and tracks of dirt cover the floor. Her window is barred and her shutters are crooked. Scattered streams of sunlight filter through the cracks.

Doctors Q, Y, and C (otherwise known by Juan and me as Quinn, Yvonne, and Chris), are poring over a map of the school and discussing, as Kyle predicted, new security measures. Patients 7, 30, and 105 are sitting on the sofa twiddling their thumbs. 7 is a 14-year-old Chinese girl named Ran with the ability to teleport, 30 is an 18-year-old boy from Idaho named Wyatt with the ability to see more (more on this later), and 105 is an 11-year-old boy named Nigel who is unnaturally persuasive.

Leyla takes off her glasses and rises from her desk. The mobs are growing in number. Our only hope if we are going to survive this is to organize ourselves – and make sure we are prepared to face an attack. You five, she gestures to us Patients sitting/standing around the couch, are here because we have chosen you to lead the security teams posted throughout the building.

I notice Juan dozing off beside me and send a tiny electrical pulse to his brain to wake him. He blinks and shakes his head, seemingly surprised he had fallen asleep.

Chris steps away from the map to address us. Do you mind, Leyla?

Leyla waves her arm, giving him the floor.

He clears his throat and points at the map. Ran, your team will be posted at the front doors, where you can easily zap in and out to make sure the entrance is clear. Ran nods. Nigel, you will be on Wyatt’s team, which will monitor the roof, okay?

Nigel and Wyatt nod simultaneously.

And, Juan, you and Kandi will be posted outside by the gates. Ms. Hendricks had built a large, barbed-wire prison gate around the school before the economy disintegrated.

Nobody but Juan and I know what truly happened to Doctor J, nor is anyone aware of the incoming invasion of immortal extraterrestrials, who are all as unfeeling toward humanity as my father was. It makes these meetings and talks about security and preparedness seem utterly pointless.

Juan looks to me for confirmation. Then he nods for Doctor C. Nobody knows Juan can read minds, either, but they have accepted Juan as my official voice.

The meeting continues, and my interest diverges to the empty water bottle’s faded label on the floor. Sweeter Springs... Delicious.

I look up briefly to find Leyla staring me down from across the room, arms folded, lips pursed. I make eye contact and emit a mental pulse just strong enough to induce a migraine. She immediately cringes and pinches the bridge of her nose, shutting her eyes. Juan gently squeezes my shoulder.

Juan and I return to the cafeteria for lunch a few hours later. Kyle wastes no time invading our space. He comes to me directly, dressed in green plaid and skinny jeans. He smells like Pine Sol.

Hey, Kandi, he drawls. How was the meeting?

Juan pushes him back, perhaps more aggressively than necessary.

Kyle’s posture stiffens. "If that’s how it’s going to be..." His signature smile stretches into more of a grimace than a grin as he mock salutes and stalks away.

Juan is gritting his teeth. He sits back in his seat and runs a hand through his thick mop of hair. I wish he would just... drop dead already.

The anger I sense from him is so palpable I can feel it like a rock in my throat. I recall the beginning of last year when Kyle was my aide, and his job was solely to escort me wherever I needed to go in order to ensure I went untouched throughout the day and to inject me with power-suppressing Theratocin every two hours. Where had that Kyle gone?

Kyle kissed me, just like Zach... though, unlike Zach, he was never really cured, was he? Jim was a prime example of a mortal who fell prey to the effects of prolonged exposure to me. Fun Fact: I actually share this irresistible trait with Love, the Immortal. Love is forbidden from personal contact with mortals for this reason.

I look at Juan, scanning him from his shoulders to his neck to his mouth, and finally to his eyes. Why are you so angry? I ask him.

He chews on his green beans slowly, not looking up from his tray. I don’t know, he replies at length, coughing into his fist. I’m sorry I’m so... out of it today.

I sip my water.

Do you think what L is doing will be enough to protect everyone from an attack?

Few of the Patients have much practice in using their powers. L has dulled their senses for so long they barely remember how to dress themselves. I lean forward and whisper, The humans out there are organizing themselves specifically to destroy the Patients. Alone they won’t stand a chance.

Juan drops his utensil. What are you suggesting?

Hey, Juan! Perfect! An interruption! We both turn around to watch Brock and another powerful Patient named Daniel weave through the milling crowd, large smiles plastered on their faces. Brock has gained thirty pounds since my last admittance into Blue Skys. His face has filled out, and his pale skin has regained a pinkish glow. Without Theratocin perpetually flooding his system, he exhibits much more control over his pyrokinesis. It is quite impressive. Too bad he is a sociopath.

Daniel, on the other hand, is naturally reserved and shy, but over the past couple weeks has grown more comfortable around Juan and me. He has a round face, bulbous nose, freckles, red hair, and severely crooked bottom teeth. I believe he will turn sixteen in March. He accidentally shocked his older brother to death before he was admitted as Patient 55.

Hey, Brock, Juan responds, warmth painfully forced in his tone. What’s up?

My eyes flick to Brock as he brushes his dreadlocks from his face. We’re on your team. He corrects himself: We’re on the day shift.

Cool, man. Juan smiles and asks Daniel, How’s your shoulder, Dan?

He shrugs and absently rubs his right shoulder. It’s all right. Since the ‘cure’ worked its magic on the Coma Contagion, Ms. Hendricks has not used my blood to heal minor injuries, such as the injuries suffered by Tim and Mac last year when they attempted to prevent Juan from communicating with me. She is saving the blood she has left for more critical injuries and illnesses, sparing me the hourly blood-drawings to which she subjected me as a Patient. Yes... she is very kind and considerate.

Brock licks his lips and steals the seat to my left. My limbs immediately lock into place, stealing my breath. So you guys heard about the explosions downtown?

Brock, give Kandi some space, please, Juan says. Brock hastily obliges, claiming the seat on the other side of the table. Thank you. Now tell us more about the explosions.

Brock rubs his hands together excitedly. Two gangs have risen above the rest, and now they’re fighting for power over the city. One of the gangs attacked the other gang with bombs yesterday, decimating half of Jefferson Street. Rumor is they are going to surrender and join forces to overtake Sunny Days. That’s why L is so concerned with improving security. She’s expecting an attack.

How big are these gangs? Juan asks.

Big enough to occupy the city. Or, so I’ve heard. He winks at me. My stomach does not appreciate the attention.

I can feel Juan looking at me, so I turn to meet his gaze. A thought is just about to form in my mind when the building quakes. Ceiling dust rains upon our heads.

Holy crap! Brock exclaims, ducking under the table.

Screams erupt in the cafeteria. Leyla appears at the doors, shocked and panicked. Everybody take cover! she yells. Her wide eyes find me standing amidst the sudden chaos.

Juan, I am going to help. Stay here.

I erupt in a vortex of black flame and transport myself to the perimeter outside the school. An army awaits around the gate, with bolt cutters, knives, a bulldozer, guns, grenades... I count 213 men and women armed and thirsty, savagely tearing through the fence and firing their weapons into the blue sky.

They spot me almost immediately. I am the fountain of youth, an endless supply of immortalizing blood. I am what they want.

They stare at me, cocking their heads and sniffing. I can hear their hearts beating nearly as fast as my own.

Coward, Jim murmured as he skated the knife across my abdomen. And Jeremy calls you the Deinon... a miserable, skinny girl at the mercy of a peasant like me. He chuckled and plunged the knife into my side. My back arched, and I screamed through the gag, waiting to blink out of consciousness any moment. Are you going to fight me, darling? Are you going to beg for mercy? He dipped his head to the wound in my side and licked the blood as it spurted onto the kitchen floor. Look at me. I want to see the fear in your pretty green eyes.

I looked at him, at his blood-stained lips and his dilated pupils.

Why did your father leave you to me, Kandi? Doesn’t he care about his special daughter? He threw the knife over his shoulder and straddled me. "I doubt he is capable of caring since Hope died.