🎬 Episode 1 – The Oath Unbound

Runtime: ~40 minutes

Read the summary of these series here: Witcher Fans, Prepare Yourselves, Cavill’s New Fantasy Project Goes Even Darker

🕯️ Cold Open – Nightfall in Vaelor (Approx. 4 min)

The rain fell in sheets over Vaelor, turning the marble steps of the Plaza of Penitence into veins of glistening sorrow. Beneath the twin statues of the All-Knowing Flame, villagers knelt, soaked, shivering, their hands bound behind their backs. Their eyes searched the heavens for a mercy that had long since abandoned them. The Silver Wardens arrived in solemn procession, armor dulled from countless crusades. At their head rode Ser Alaric Vayne, the legendary knight once hailed as the Lion of Vaelor. His eyes, the color of a storm-wracked sky, scanned the condemned. Not one of them bore a weapon. Not one showed signs of corruption. "Witch-sheltering," the charge read. In truth, these were farmers, tanners, and midwives. One of them, a young girl no older than ten, met Alaric’s gaze through the rain. Her eyes were violet, unusual, but hardly damning.

“By order of the High Council,” intoned Inquisitor Marla, “these traitors shall burn, for magic is a sin, and sin must be purged.”

Alaric dismounted. His gauntlet hovered over the hilt of his greatblade, Seraph’s Mercy, before he slowly drew it, not to strike, but to lower it to the ground. He knelt, placing the sword upon the stone.

Alaric: “I will not kill the innocent to glorify your fear.”

The square erupted. Gasps. Shouts. The wardens froze. Inquisitor Marla’s eyes blazed with fury. “You would defy the Flame?”

Alaric: “I defy monsters in robes who forget why we raised blades in the first place.”

The girl burst into tears, whispering, “Thank you.” Behind him, a thunderclap cracked the sky.

Cut to black.

🏛️ Act I – The Judgment (Approx. 5 min)

The Temple of Judgment was carved from obsidian and starlight. Here, the most sacred trials took place under the gaze of the veiled High Council. Alaric stood unbowed in the center, shackles tight around his wrists. His armor had been stripped. Only a simple tunic of grey remained. High Lord Veras, ancient and skeletal, spoke first. “You, Ser Alaric Vayne, have broken the First Oath. How do you answer?”

Alaric: “The oath was broken long before me. I simply stopped pretending.”

A hush. Even the flame-braziers seemed to flicker nervously. One of the younger councilors leaned forward. “You were a hero. A protector.”

Alaric: “Heroes don’t burn children on command.”

The sentence was declared. His name, rank, and legacy were to be stripped. Seraph’s Mercy was brought in, his sword of twenty years, laid across the Pillar of Faith.

A hammer descended. The blade shattered.

In the gallery, his young squire, Page Thalen, cried out, “He stood for us! He stood for the light!”

Guards seized the boy. Alaric’s gaze met his one last time. No words passed. But understanding lingered.

As the temple doors opened, Alaric walked out alone. The city of Vaelor, once his home, now regarded him as a traitor.

🌧️ Act II – Exile (Approx. 5 min)

Stormclouds followed him as he rode east. The gates of Vaelor closed behind with a groan, like the final breath of a dying god. Rain soaked through his cloak. The fragments of his blade rattled like bones in a pouch at his hip.

That night, as the fire crackled low, Alaric dreamed.

Fire. Blood. A throne of shadows rising from molten stone. A crowned figure, faceless yet familiar, reached for him.

“Breaker. Flame-walker. You cannot run from what you are.”

He awoke with a start. His palm burned faintly with golden sigils, which faded as dawn broke. Something ancient had marked him.

🌌 Act III – Whispers in the Dark (Approx. 6 min)

Bramble Vale was not meant for men. The trees here whispered in languages that wind should not know. Alaric tread carefully, swordless, relying on his instincts alone. That night, the firewood hissed with hidden voices. A shadow crept across the trees, a crowned figure made of smoke and stars.

“You broke your oath. Now another will bind you. Serve... or perish.”

Alaric threw his waterskin at the shadow. It dispersed into ravens. When he looked down, his palm glowed once more, this time with a rune shaped like an open eye.

The next morning, he found a totem buried beneath moss: the mark of an ancient order lost to time, one sworn to watch the gates of the void. He pocketed it.

🌄 Act IV – The Last Mercy (Approx. 4 min)

Near dusk, he crested a hill and saw smoke. He ran. A small village, once alive with orchard scent and children’s laughter, now lay in ruin. Burned corpses. Warden banners fluttered.

Beneath a half-collapsed barn, he found a dying woman.

Woman: “They… took her. North. She was just a girl… fire in her veins…”

Alaric held her hand as life left her. He buried the dead. As a final rite, he drove one of his sword’s broken fragments into the soil, a tombstone for the nameless.

His eyes no longer held just defiance. Now, there was fury, and a promise.

🧭 Act V – The Choice (Approx. 6 min)

At a lonely crossroads where no map offered guidance, a hooded figure sat beside a weather-worn shrine to the god of wandering paths.

“You carry a wound,” the man said, though his eyes were blind. “Not of flesh, but of flame.”

Alaric: “Another prophet?”
Wanderer: “No. Just one who remembers what you were… and what you may become.”

The old man handed Alaric a stone carved with a single glyph: a flame encircled by chains.

Wanderer: “East lies prophecy. West lies peace. One path ends the world. One path ends you.”

Alaric turned toward the eastern path. “Then I end, if it must be. But not before the world is warned.”

🔥 Act VI – A New Name (Approx. 6 min)

On the edge of a cliff where stars bled into the ocean, Alaric stared at his reflection in a cracked pool. His face was weathered, aged far more than months should show.

The wind carried whispers now, always just beyond hearing. He unslung the last fragment of his blade.

Alaric: “You took my sword. My title. My honor. But not my will.”

He dropped the fragment into the water. Thunder cracked. The whisper returned, louder now.

“Good, knight. The game begins.”

From the trees behind him, eyes watched. Something ancient had stirred, and chosen him.

🎵 Final Montage (Approx. 3 min)

• In a distant tavern, a bard sings of a knight who defied the Council. “The Blade Who Would Not Break.”
• In hidden chambers beneath the Temple, Veras argues with the other High Lords: “He bears the mark. He must be stopped.”
• Lysara, a fire-witch in hiding, awakens from a nightmare, whispering Alaric’s name, though she has never met him.
• On a forgotten altar, an ancient map flares to life. A new mark appears: The Broken Flame.

📜 End Credits – Episode 1: The Oath Unbound

A haunting cello plays as snow begins to fall on the plaza where Alaric once stood. The pyres are gone. The girl he spared looks out over the wall, flame flickering in her palm.

As steel clashes echo faintly, the title emerges:

The Shadow of Eldros