Albion's Seed Novels & Stories

He doubted the very foundation of the cult’s prophecy. The Seed was never meant to be controlled. It was meant to balance. The blood was not a gate—it was a warning. The others didn’t see it. Alun was too deep in his zealotry. The Seers whispered only what Imril permitted. But Mahrun had walked the Hollow Hill alone. He had stood among the ruins the cult called blasphemy and seen the truth carved in a language older than their rites. He remembered what the elder in the burnt forest had told him: You are the bridge, child of drift and flame. You bear both names. That is your curse. That is your key.