Episode 1 – The Boy on the Island
Midnight Tides: The Fallen Angel
The waves crashed in slow, heavy rhythms against the black rocks, each one hissing as seawater foamed and retreated. The air was warm but tasted of salt and loneliness. On the highest cliff, half-hidden by a crooked palm tree, a boy sat staring out at the horizon as if he could force the world to send him a miracle.
Jayce hadn't spoken to another human in… he'd stopped counting. Maybe months. Maybe years. The sun and moon rose and fell without caring. His days had been reduced to the sound of gulls, the crunch of sand under bare feet, and the hollow ache in his stomach.
He ran a hand over his tangled black hair, wincing when his fingers caught on a knot. His clothes were torn, sun-bleached, and stiff with dried seawater. His once-bright hoodie was now nothing more than a tattered shadow of itself.
It was a day like any other… until he saw the sails.
At first, he thought it was another hallucination. Sometimes the mind played cruel tricks on the lonely. He blinked, rubbed his eyes, and looked again. A ship — real, massive, cutting through the waves like a predator — was approaching the island.
Jayce's heart hammered in his chest.
He ran down the rocky slope, stumbling and scraping his knees, desperate not to lose sight of the vessel. The ship's sails were black, adorned with the golden crest of a sword through a rising tide. It wasn't a merchant ship. It wasn't a fisherman's boat. This was a warship — or something close to it.
As the ship neared the shore, voices shouted over the crash of the surf. Rope ladders unfurled. Boots thudded onto wet sand.
Jayce froze, half-hidden behind a boulder.
The first man to step forward was tall and broad-shouldered, with a weather-beaten face and sharp grey eyes that scanned the island like a hawk. A crimson captain's coat hung from his shoulders, trimmed with gold thread. His presence was heavy — the kind of man who commanded storms to move aside.
"Search the area!" he barked.
Jayce hesitated. Should he reveal himself? These strangers could be dangerous. But if he stayed silent, they might leave, and he couldn't survive another season here.
Taking a breath, he stepped out from behind the rock.
"I'm here!" His voice cracked, dry from disuse.
Several sailors turned, startled. One reached for his cutlass, but the captain raised a hand to stop him.
The captain's eyes locked on Jayce, studying him from head to toe. "And who might you be, boy?"
Jayce swallowed. "Name's… Jayce. I've been stuck here for… I don't know how long."
The captain stepped closer, his boots sinking into the wet sand. "Stuck here, you say? You don't look like you're from around these waters."
"I'm not," Jayce admitted. "Shipwreck. Everyone else… didn't make it." His voice shook, but he kept his gaze steady.
The captain studied him for a long moment before speaking. "I'm Captain Kevin. And you're either the luckiest or unluckiest soul I've found this year."
Jayce's lips twitched. "I'll take lucky."
Kevin's stern expression softened just enough for a faint smirk. "We're heading east. Dangerous waters. Pirates, storms, worse. You think you can handle a deck under your feet again?"
Jayce didn't hesitate. "I can handle anything that's not this island."
The captain turned to his men. "Bring him aboard. Feed him. Give him a place to rest. He sails with us now."
Jayce felt his legs move before his brain caught up, following the crew toward the ship. The wooden planks creaked under his bare feet, the salty wind rushing against his face. He didn't know where they were going. He didn't know if he could trust them.
But for the first time in forever… he wasn't alone. And somewhere deep in his chest, a spark flickered to life.
The tides had shifted.
Episode 2 – Storms & Shadows
Midnight Tides: The Fallen Angel
The ship's timbers groaned softly under the weight of the waves, the low hum of the sea lulling Jayce into a strange mix of excitement and unease. It had been less than a full day since Captain Kevin pulled him from the prison of that island, yet it already felt like he had stepped into another world.
The Black Tide, as the ship was called, was a fortress on water — reinforced hull, towering masts, and a crew who moved with the precision of men who'd cheated death too many times to count.
Jayce sat cross-legged on the deck, chewing on a piece of bread so fresh it felt like a luxury. A bucket of clean water sat beside him, its surface shimmering in the afternoon light.
"Don't get too comfortable," a gruff voice said.
Jayce looked up to see a bearded sailor tightening the ropes on a nearby mast. His weathered face creased into a smirk. "First voyage after a rescue? Seas always test ya."
"Test me how?" Jayce asked.
The man didn't answer. He simply nodded toward the horizon.
Jayce followed his gaze — and his stomach tightened. The sky ahead had shifted from bright blue to a bruised purple. Clouds stacked like mountains, their edges glowing with an unnatural silver light.
The wind picked up.
Captain Kevin's voice rang out across the deck. "All hands! We've got a storm on the bow. Double lash the cargo and secure the sails!"
The calm that Jayce had been feeling shattered. The deck transformed into a flurry of motion — sailors climbing rigging, shouting commands, hammering down crates.
Kevin strode past Jayce, stopping just long enough to meet his eyes. "If you value your skin, boy, you'll hold tight and do as you're told."
The first wave hit before Jayce could reply.
The ship tilted sharply, saltwater spraying over the rail and drenching him to the bone. He grabbed a rope for balance, his heart pounding. Thunder rolled above, so loud it seemed to shake the sky itself.
Lightning split the clouds — and in its brief flash, Jayce swore he saw something move in the distance. Not a wave. Not a gull. Something… humanoid.
Another flash. Gone.
He blinked rainwater from his eyes, clinging to the rope as the Black Tide pitched hard to starboard.
Kevin's voice roared above the storm. "Steady! Keep her nose into the wind!"
Jayce's pulse quickened. He wasn't imagining it — there was something out there. Between the sheets of rain, a figure clung to drifting wreckage, being tossed violently by the waves.
"She's out there!" Jayce shouted, pointing.
Kevin followed his gesture, squinting through the downpour. For a heartbeat, Jayce saw surprise flicker across the captain's face.
"Port side! Bring her in close!" Kevin bellowed.
The crew adjusted course. The ship groaned under the strain, but slowly they closed the distance.
Jayce leaned over the rail as the figure came into view — a girl, pale as moonlight, her hair darkened by the rain, eyes closed, barely moving. She looked like she'd been carved from another world.
In that instant, Jayce felt something he couldn't name — as if the sea itself had chosen to deliver her here.
The storm raged on, but Jayce's mind was fixed on only one thought.
Who was she… and why did it feel like his life had just changed forever?
The tides were bringing more than storms.
Episode 3 – The Banished Princess
Midnight Tides: The Fallen Angel
The Celestial Palace glittered like it was carved from pure starlight. Marble towers rose into the clouds, banners embroidered with golden suns swayed in the breeze, and guards clad in silver armor stood as still as statues.
But inside its throne room, the air was thick with tension.
Freyna knelt before the throne, wrists bound in iron cuffs that burned her skin with faint traces of dark magic. Her violet eyes, normally bright and commanding, now burned with fury.
"You dare accuse me of treason?" she spat, her voice echoing against the polished walls.
At the far end of the chamber, lounging on the throne that was not his, sat Travis Valkrum — the Demon Warlock. His long crimson cloak dragged across the floor, his black crown tilted arrogantly. In his hands, he twirled a staff carved from obsidian, its tip glowing faintly with a sickly green flame.
"Oh, Princess…" Travis said smoothly, his tone mocking. "No one accuses you. Your actions speak for themselves."
Freyna's nails dug into her palms. "You forged those letters! You poisoned the court against me. Everyone here knows my loyalty!"
A murmur rippled through the assembled council. Some nobles averted their eyes. Others stared at her with a mix of pity and fear.
Travis rose slowly from the throne, descending the steps with deliberate grace. "Loyalty?" His lips curled into a grin. "You are weak. Naïve. You cling to ideals that will drown this kingdom in blood. The Celestial Throne requires strength — and I will give it that strength."
"You mean you'll give it corruption," Freyna shot back. "You twist shadows into chains and call it order."
A heavy silence fell. The councilors flinched at her defiance.
Travis' grin widened. "Such bold words… for someone about to be forgotten."
He snapped his fingers. The guards seized Freyna by the arms, dragging her toward the balcony. She struggled, kicking against the polished floor, but their grip was iron.
"No!" she cried, her voice cracking. "This is my kingdom! My father's throne! You have no right—"
Travis leaned close, his breath cold against her ear. "I have every right. Because no one will remember you once the sea swallows your bones."
The balcony doors were thrown open. Outside, the night sky was restless, clouds swirling as if the heavens themselves sensed the betrayal. Far below, the waves of the open sea pounded against the cliffs.
The guards hauled Freyna to the edge. She fought, but the cursed cuffs drained her strength.
"Any last words?" Travis asked mockingly, raising his staff as if to bless her execution.
Freyna lifted her head, defiance blazing in her eyes. "Yes."
Her voice rang clear, even as the storm winds howled.
"You can steal my crown. You can twist their minds. But mark me, Valkrum — I will return. And when I do, the heavens themselves will cast you down."
For the first time, Travis' grin faltered — just for a flicker of a second.
Then he gave the command.
The guards shoved her from the balcony.
Freyna's body plummeted, the cold air tearing past her skin. The ocean roared below, a maw of black water ready to devour her. Her heart pounded once, twice — then the sea claimed her with a violent crash.
Darkness swallowed her whole.
As the waves dragged her into the abyss, her last thought before unconsciousness was not of fear… but of fire. A fire that told her this was not her end.
Somewhere out there, fate was already moving pieces she could not see.
The banished princess had fallen but not forever.
Episode 4 – The Shore
Midnight Tides: The Fallen Angel
The storm had raged through the night, tearing the skies apart with thunder and painting the sea in silver lightning. By morning, the horizon was calm again, but the deck of the Black Tide still smelled of salt, rain, and sweat.
Jayce hadn't slept. His eyes kept wandering back to where he had seen the figure in the waves. He couldn't shake the image — the pale girl drifting lifelessly against the fury of the sea.
"Boy!" a sailor called. "Stop starin' at the water. Help with the ropes!"
Jayce nodded absently, though his heart was elsewhere.
Then came the shout.
"Captain! On the shore!"
Every head turned. Across the glistening sand of a small island cove, a body lay half-buried in seafoam.
Jayce's chest tightened. He didn't need to see her face to know.
"Bring her aboard," Captain Kevin ordered, his voice hard but quick.
Before the sailors could even lower the boat, Jayce leapt onto the ladder and climbed down himself. His feet splashed into the surf as he sprinted across the shallows, his breath ragged.
The girl was motionless. Her long hair clung to her cheeks, soaked dark. Her skin was pale, lips tinged blue, wrists raw from strange iron cuffs that still clung faintly to her arms.
Jayce dropped to his knees beside her. "Hey… hey, wake up."
No response.
Panic surged in him. He pressed a hand against her chest — faint, but there. A heartbeat.
Relief nearly crushed him.
He turned his head. "I need help!"
Two sailors splashed through the water to join him, lifting her carefully. They carried her back toward the rowboat, her limp hand trailing through the seawater as if reluctant to leave it behind.
On deck, Kevin knelt to examine her. His weathered eyes narrowed. "These aren't ordinary cuffs. Whoever she is, someone wanted her gone."
Jayce stayed by her side as they laid her down on a blanket. He brushed a strand of wet hair from her face. Even unconscious, she looked… unearthly. Regal. A girl born to rule, not to be broken by the sea.
"Will she live?" Jayce asked.
Kevin studied him, then the girl. "That depends. She's got the fire of survival in her blood — but fire dies fast if it's not tended."
Jayce clenched his fists. "Then I'll tend it."
Hours passed before her eyelids fluttered. Jayce had sat there the whole time, refusing to leave, watching the faint rise and fall of her breathing.
At last, violet eyes opened — confused, sharp, and frightened all at once.
She gasped, sitting up, looking wildly around. "Where— where am I?"
"You're safe," Jayce said quickly, holding up his hands. "You were drowning. We pulled you out."
Her gaze fixed on him, suspicious and guarded. She tried to stand, but her body betrayed her, trembling with weakness.
"Don't touch me," she hissed, though her voice cracked with exhaustion.
Jayce hesitated, then lowered his hands. "Fine. But if it weren't for me, you'd still be out there."
For a moment, silence hung between them, broken only by the ship's creaks and the gulls overhead.
Finally, she looked away, her shoulders slumping. "...Thank you."
It wasn't much, but it was enough.
Jayce sat back, watching her. He didn't know who she was, why she'd been in the sea, or why her presence made the air around her feel heavier, sharper, different.
But he did know one thing.
This girl wasn't ordinary. And from the moment she opened her eyes, his life was no longer his own.
The boy of the island had met the banished princess.
Episode 5 – The Prince's Proposal
Midnight Tides: The Fallen Angel
The sun shimmered gold on the waves as the Black Tide approached the Emerald Isles. From a distance, the land looked like a crown resting upon the sea: rolling green hills, white-stone castles rising from cliffs, and harbors bustling with sails of every color.
Freyna stood at the rail, her violet eyes fixed on the sight. The sea breeze toyed with her dark hair, yet her expression was unreadable — half awe, half dread.
Jayce leaned beside her, arms crossed. "Pretty, huh?"
Her lips twitched, but no smile came. "Beauty doesn't always mean safety."
Jayce tilted his head. "You've been on edge since we pulled you out of the water. Who's after you?"
She said nothing. Instead, she walked away, leaving Jayce frowning after her.
Captain Kevin's voice boomed across the deck. "Listen well, lads! We've been invited to dine at the palace of Prince Kael Veyne. He's offering supplies, gold, and safe passage."
Jayce blinked. Supplies? Gold? A prince?
Later, as the crew docked at the harbor, Jayce realized this wasn't just some trade deal. Guards in polished emerald-green armor lined the docks, banners of the Veyne crest — a silver stag on a green field — fluttered in the wind.
The prince was waiting.
Kael Veyne descended the palace steps with calculated grace, his silver cloak flowing behind him. He was everything Jayce wasn't: tall, confident, perfectly dressed, with eyes that carried the weight of royalty.
And when Kael's gaze landed on Freyna, his lips curved into a charming smile.
"Welcome, travelers," Kael said warmly. "And who might this vision be?"
Freyna stiffened but lowered her head slightly. "Freyna," she answered curtly.
Kael's eyes lingered on her as though he already knew she was more than she claimed. "Freyna… a name fit for a queen."
Jayce bristled at the way Kael said it, but he held his tongue.
That night, in the glittering palace hall, they dined under chandeliers of crystal. Kael spared no expense: golden goblets filled with spiced wine, roasted venison, and musicians playing soft melodies in the corner.
Yet the prince's attention rarely left Freyna.
"You've a noble bearing," Kael said, studying her over the rim of his goblet. "Where do you hail from?"
Freyna's fork paused mid-air. "Nowhere worth mentioning."
Jayce almost smirked at her defiance, but Kael only chuckled. "A mystery, then. I like that."
Captain Kevin leaned toward Freyna. "The prince wishes to propose an arrangement. For you."
Freyna's eyes sharpened. "Arrangement?"
Jayce blinked. Wait. What?
Kael stood, lifting his goblet high. "Lady Freyna, I would honor my house and my kingdom by offering you courtship. With you by my side, the Isles would have a queen as radiant as the dawn itself."
The hall erupted in murmurs.
Jayce felt his chest tighten. Courtship? Queen? What the hell is going on?
Freyna's face betrayed nothing. Only her hands, clenched beneath the table, revealed her unease.
"I… need time to consider," she said finally, her voice steady.
Kael smiled knowingly, as if her hesitation was merely part of some dance. "Of course. Time makes all decisions sweeter."
Later, when the feast ended and the crew was shown to their chambers, Jayce cornered Kevin.
"What was that?" Jayce demanded. "You just let him—what—set up a marriage with Freyna? She doesn't even know him!"
Kevin's gaze was hard. "We're in dangerous seas, boy. A prince's protection could mean survival. Don't be foolish — alliances win wars, not feelings."
Jayce swallowed the lump in his throat. He wanted to argue, to shout, but Kevin's words echoed bitterly.
Still, as he glanced toward Freyna's chamber door, Jayce knew one truth with absolute clarity.
He didn't care if Kael was a prince, a king, or a god. He wasn't letting anyone take her away.
The tides had brought a rival — and a spark of jealousy Jayce had never felt before.
Episode 6: "The Søngs Øf War"
The Calm Before the War
The episode begins with silence. The ruins of the cathedral where the last battle took place are smoldering. Ash drifts in the air like snow. The Fallen Angel kneels among the debris, wings tattered, body trembling. In their hand, they clutch the sword of light they stole in Episode 5—now corrupted, its once-brilliant glow dimmed to an eerie violet flame.
The camera pans out to reveal armies gathering: on one side, the Legion of Heaven, led by the Seraphim who once called the Angel "brother." On the other, the Infernal Prince, smiling through the smoke, his army of shadows clawing at the ground like beasts ready to tear Heaven itself apart.
Rising Action – The Broken Bond
The Seraphim steps forward.
Seraphim: "You could have returned, brother. Even now, if you kneel, Heaven may yet forgive."
Fallen Angel (voice breaking, but firm): "Forgive? You chained me in silence. You burned my name from the skies. Forgiveness is your weapon. Mine is truth."
The Infernal Prince laughs, throwing an arm around the Fallen Angel's shoulder.
Infernal Prince: "And truth, my dear angel, burns brighter than any holy light."
But the Fallen Angel shrugs him off, making it clear: they fight for no one.
The Battle Begins:
The first wave crashes. Angels with radiant spears descend like meteors. Shadows erupt from the ground, wrapping around them mid-air, dragging them down screaming. Blades clash, wings are torn, the sky itself splits between light and darkness.
The Fallen Angel takes to the air, fighting both Heaven and Hell, wings leaving trails of violet fire as they dodge strikes and unleash corrupted blasts of light. The choreography is brutal—each blow feels like it shakes the earth.
Midpoint – Betrayal of the Prince
As the chaos peaks, the Infernal Prince suddenly strikes the Fallen Angel in the back.
Infernal Prince (mocking): "You didn't think I'd share the throne, did you? You're just the spark. I am the fire."
The Fallen Angel crashes to the ground, bleeding, barely able to rise. Heaven's Seraphim pauses, conflicted. For the first time, there's doubt in their eyes.
The Fallen Angel forces themselves up, violet flame engulfing their body as they scream with both agony and defiance.
Fallen Angel (to both armies): "You want me? Then take me! But I will never kneel—not to Heaven, not to Hell. If I am damned, then let me carve my fate into the stars!"
A colossal explosion erupts, the corrupted sword splitting into fragments that orbit around them like shards of a broken halo. Each fragment becomes a weapon, slashing through angels and demons alike.
The battlefield becomes apocalyptic:
Towers crumble.
The sky bleeds red and gold.
Lightning storms tear open the heavens.
The Seraphim, tears in their eyes, whispers: "Brother…" before charging in for the final strike.
The Fallen Angel and the Seraphim clash mid-air. Every blow rattles the world, their voices echoing with rage, grief, and love twisted into something unrecognizable. The Infernal Prince watches, furious that the spotlight has shifted.
At the peak of the battle, the Fallen Angel sees the truth: the war will never end while both Heaven and Hell remain locked in pride. So, with one final act, they stab the corrupted sword into their own chest, detonating it from within.
Fallen Angel (smiling faintly through blood): "If no one will end this war… then I will."
The explosion is cataclysmic. Light and shadow collapse in on themselves, swallowing both armies. Screams echo, wings burn, shadows shatter.
When the smoke clears, the battlefield is silent. The Seraphim lies unconscious, alive but broken. The Infernal Prince is gone, his form dissolved into black ash.
The Fallen Angel's body is nowhere to be found—only a single black feather, still smoldering with violet fire, drifts to the ground.
The Seraphim crawls toward it, clutching it with trembling hands, whispering:
Seraphim: "Brother… did you fall? Or did you ascend?"
"And so the heavens were never the same again."
To be continued...