Eons ago, a game to determine galactic dominance began. Now, on the distant world of Elystra, that game is reaching its conclusion.
Two mighty armies clash: on one side, Elzaria the Lightning-Wielder, backed by her brother’s army, is poised to claim the third Stone and final victory. On the other, Earth pilot Maeve and her allies are all that stands in her way.
With the fate of the entire galaxy at stake, who will make the ultimate sacrifice?
Genre: FICTION / Fantasy / EpicSales for Endgame has been reasonable, as has the rest of the series. It has gotten nothing but 5-star reviews on Amazon.
Maeve rubbed tired eyes with her thumb and forefinger, sighing in frustration.
She picked a direction at random and strolled away from the large red-and-white tent she’d just exited, ignoring the curious stares Aridor’s soldiers threw her way. She’d become accustomed to such looks in her brief time mingling with the people of Elystra; though her physiology was nearly identical to theirs, she was alien to this world. Their whole lives, these men had never even conceived of the possibility of a woman being able to Wield, and now they were camped just outside a village where nearly a dozen Wielders resided.
Let ‘em stare. This is how things are now. If they can’t accept that a woman is more skilled, more powerful than they are, fark ‘em.
She slid her computer pad from its slot on her belt and activated it. According to the chronometer, which she’d long since calibrated to Elystra’s twenty-two-point-five-hour day, she’d been in that tent for over two hours. Two long, unproductive hours. King Aridor’s prowess at directing troop movements and battle strategies was impressive, yet two-dimensional. It wasn’t something he could help, given his “medieval” upbringing, but he’d never had to deal with an enemy like Elzaria before. Aridor said repeatedly that he would not underestimate the lightning-Wielder’s capabilities, but until they could come up with a viable plan to defeat her, their best hope lay in her and Nyla’s hands.
Maeve glanced up at the blanket of clouds that covered the sky, wondering if more rain was imminent. It was the season for storms, and a downpour such as the one that drenched the Ixtrayan Plateau on the day of the attack would only hamper their efforts to rescue Kelia from the Vandans.
Kelia.
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French
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Already translated.
Translated by Louise Chaumont
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Italian
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Already translated.
Translated by Alessandro Sciascia
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Spanish
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Already translated.
Translated by Daniel Cabrera Alberola
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