The Symmetry of Belief

The Nataraja Trilogy

Book 1 The Symmetry of Belief

Prologue

Chapter 1 : Farcoast

Chapter 2 : The Betrayal

Chapter 3: Cydona's Gambit

Chapter 4: Cydona Ascendant

Chapter 5: Hollow Victories

Chapter 6: A Quintessence of Dust

Book 2 The Balance of Faith

Chapter 7: Rebirth

Chapter 8: Claustrum

Chapter 9: The Veil of Sanctity

Chapter 10: The Fall of Pax Aeternam

Book 3 The Cycle of Damnation

Chapter 11: Hall of Mirrors

Chapter 12: Cydona Unbound

Chapter 13: Eden

Chapter 14: The Artifice of Sin

Chapter 15: The Dance of Nataraja

Prologue

It had been rumoured that whole forests had turned to desert. In the southlands of Psyklon the Psi-Lords and their population of believers had unleashed such climactic energies as to blast the landscape to barren wasteland as they prepared for war. The Psi-Crystals they had constructed to focus the energies of their people had finally harnessed the emergent trend of latent psi-aptitude that had been cultivated for nearly a century in that land and provided Psyklon with a super-weapon. When all of the linked minds focused as one on the amplifying Psi-gem tremendous blasts of psycho-kinetic force could be unleashed with pinpoint accuracy and decimate broad swaths of land, obliterating trees, rock -human flesh. Indeed they had been preparing for war for some time, ready to test their newfound identity as a unified consciousness. But this came as no surprise to Lysander.

All of the other kingdoms on the world of Lacus had developed similar super-weapons and, coincidentally, similar ambitions of conquest. It seemed to be the order of the day. The Conclave of Wizards in the northlands whose seat of power was Castle Manahenge had likewise been flexing their muscles, wielding the forces of magic as never before. It was known that great dragons and elementals would flock to their cause, the mana would bend to their will, and bolts of fire and lightning raining down from the sky could very well bring the collective meditations of the Psi-regiments to a premature close before the crystals could collect

enough energy to fire their 'death beams'. Furthermore the Steam Tank Battalions and heavy artillery of Grinmoore could blast the earth right out from under either of them from miles away in an immense cannonade of destruction. The advanced metallurgy they possessed had allowed them to mass-produce machines of war. The furnaces blazed at all hours of day and night and the war-factories were never silent. All of these factors had served well as deterrents to all factions in starting a war. Many feared total extinction were hostilities to actually erupt. And thus, a kind of uneasy truce existed, with each side silently building up its armies, none trusting the others and each concerned with its own survival. It was a truce that had creaked and buckled under the strain of an inevitable Final War. Until now.

Lysander smiled. His troops and his King would be victorious. Of all the power blocs that had built up over the years, in the impending shadow of inexorable war that had grown to encompass most aspects of recent political life, he knew that Sorcerer King Thaxidremous' legions would be unstoppable. He knew, because he was charged with leading them.