The Forsaken Empire (The Endervar War Book 2) Read Online Free
Author: Michael Kan
Roars and screams. A commotion. Red felt it. His telepathy instantly made him aware. The sensation was deathly. The agony was excruciating. He fell off his chair, as though he had been struck down. He was on the bar floor, barely able to move. There was nothing to see or sense. There was only the pain, and then there was more.
What is this?
He was starting to see things. Things he thought he didn’t understand. Only he did. He had seen this before everything was dying.
Red could hear the voice behind it. This was familiar. He hadn’t felt it in years.
Farcia
As he thought the name, the pain receded. Something, but not him, was holding the sensation back. Red made a fist and pushed himself off the floor. He pulled off his visor and the head scarf from his face. It revealed his white hair and rosy dark eyes. He gasped for air. At first he could barely stand. But he pushed forward, trying to react. He could still hear the screams. Wiping his eyes, he focused and looked down. The hunter was on the floor, cradling his face in his hands. It was the same pain, digging into the man, forcing him to live it. Red heard the clattering of words, all of it unintelligible; the translation was overshadowed by a choking cry.
Laboring to breathe, the hunter extended a hand toward Red. His fingers clamped onto Red’s arm and clothes. He was shaking and screaming through his mask. The puffs of air were blowing like steam.
II don’t understand Red said, watching in horror. The hunter was about to die. He felt the panicked drool soak into his hands. The hunter was salivating, perhaps even bleeding. Red opened his mind, trying to help, but was forced to pull back. The pain remained in the man, circulating everywhere. Everywhere but Red. The hunter let go, dead. His breathing had ceased.
Red rose and ran. The sensation was still there. The telepathy was eating into its victims. He left the bar and saw the others. They were like the hunter. Either dead, dying, or comatose. Bodies littered the hallways. Inhabitants were slumped over vendor stalls or on the floor, yelping in pain.
Red ran through the winding hallways. The ghastly view followed him. The massacre grew. The cries echoed. But now Red could feel it even more. The voice. He was close. The source was near. He ran harder, toward the stairway. He emerged into the station’s main promenade. It was a circular area large, and built to accommodate hundreds. In fact, he had been there before, passing a crowd and then a security checkpoint. There was none of that anymore. At his feet were more bodies. More victims, scattered across the floor.
No he said.
It was nearly the same sight. A room sapped of life. But still he looked, seeking the source of it all.
She was among them the reason he had come. She stood in the center of the promenade, surrounded by her victims. Then she walked past them, immune to it all. Anyone else might have seen a faceless woman. But he saw the smile. It was in her eyes.
Red Farcia said. I’ve found you.
Chapter 3
She was different. Not at all the way he wished to remember her. Gone was the innocence, along with the youth. This was no longer a young girl but a fugitive. Or perhaps even more appropriate, a living weapon one that seemed worn and battered, ready to break.
Farcia walked, ever slowly, almost fragile in her marble-patterned gown. She had aged heavily since the last time Red had seen her. The luminescence of her Ehvian skin was still there, but everything else had faded. Her hair and face were limp; the body and cheeks were thin and sunken. Red saw little elegance. Only a graceless woman and that dark trace where great beauty once was.
But most striking were her eyes and the deep cloud of black that shrouded them. He saw the tears. The drips of charcoal were falling to her chin.
How long has it been? she asked in a long, wet sniff.
Farcia spoke to him, not with a telepathic thought, but in a thin and weakened voice. It uttered from the
What is this?
He was starting to see things. Things he thought he didn’t understand. Only he did. He had seen this before everything was dying.
Red could hear the voice behind it. This was familiar. He hadn’t felt it in years.
Farcia
As he thought the name, the pain receded. Something, but not him, was holding the sensation back. Red made a fist and pushed himself off the floor. He pulled off his visor and the head scarf from his face. It revealed his white hair and rosy dark eyes. He gasped for air. At first he could barely stand. But he pushed forward, trying to react. He could still hear the screams. Wiping his eyes, he focused and looked down. The hunter was on the floor, cradling his face in his hands. It was the same pain, digging into the man, forcing him to live it. Red heard the clattering of words, all of it unintelligible; the translation was overshadowed by a choking cry.
Laboring to breathe, the hunter extended a hand toward Red. His fingers clamped onto Red’s arm and clothes. He was shaking and screaming through his mask. The puffs of air were blowing like steam.
II don’t understand Red said, watching in horror. The hunter was about to die. He felt the panicked drool soak into his hands. The hunter was salivating, perhaps even bleeding. Red opened his mind, trying to help, but was forced to pull back. The pain remained in the man, circulating everywhere. Everywhere but Red. The hunter let go, dead. His breathing had ceased.
Red rose and ran. The sensation was still there. The telepathy was eating into its victims. He left the bar and saw the others. They were like the hunter. Either dead, dying, or comatose. Bodies littered the hallways. Inhabitants were slumped over vendor stalls or on the floor, yelping in pain.
Red ran through the winding hallways. The ghastly view followed him. The massacre grew. The cries echoed. But now Red could feel it even more. The voice. He was close. The source was near. He ran harder, toward the stairway. He emerged into the station’s main promenade. It was a circular area large, and built to accommodate hundreds. In fact, he had been there before, passing a crowd and then a security checkpoint. There was none of that anymore. At his feet were more bodies. More victims, scattered across the floor.
No he said.
It was nearly the same sight. A room sapped of life. But still he looked, seeking the source of it all.
She was among them the reason he had come. She stood in the center of the promenade, surrounded by her victims. Then she walked past them, immune to it all. Anyone else might have seen a faceless woman. But he saw the smile. It was in her eyes.
Red Farcia said. I’ve found you.
Chapter 3
She was different. Not at all the way he wished to remember her. Gone was the innocence, along with the youth. This was no longer a young girl but a fugitive. Or perhaps even more appropriate, a living weapon one that seemed worn and battered, ready to break.
Farcia walked, ever slowly, almost fragile in her marble-patterned gown. She had aged heavily since the last time Red had seen her. The luminescence of her Ehvian skin was still there, but everything else had faded. Her hair and face were limp; the body and cheeks were thin and sunken. Red saw little elegance. Only a graceless woman and that dark trace where great beauty once was.
But most striking were her eyes and the deep cloud of black that shrouded them. He saw the tears. The drips of charcoal were falling to her chin.
How long has it been? she asked in a long, wet sniff.
Farcia spoke to him, not with a telepathic thought, but in a thin and weakened voice. It uttered from the
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