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1X01: "PILOT"
Written by
Ashleigh A. Haynes

Based on the series

"Throne of Glass"
By Sarah J. Maas

SHOUTS of livid anger from faceless men overlap other mens
SCREAMS of agony.
Stop! Sardothien! Get her!
Heavy but controlled BREATHS sound, smothering out the rest.
A GUARD, sword raised, lets out a strangled CRY as a pick ax
buries itself into his gut.
CELAENA Sardothien (18), a fierce assassin whose face and
ragged clothes lie hidden beneath layers of grime and blood,
drops the ax and grabs the sword from the fallen guards hand
before his body hits the ground.
A legion of more GUARDS and OVERSEERS rushes toward her,
wielding swords and whips. A wicked smile spreads across her
face as she welcomes them with the shining steel of her
Celaena plows through the men, cutting them all down one by
one in an elegant, almost dance-like blur as she moves away
from the mines that lie deep below the earth to the freedom
that the wall around the prison brings.
Swords SING as they miss their mark and hit Calaenas blade
in the moments before she ends them. The arrows WHIZZING by
her head miss her dodging form, though some find accidental
homes in the chests of the men she pushes to the side.
Suddenly, the way before her clears. An empty path to the
wall, now a mere hundred yards or so, appears. The nearest
guard must be twenty feet behind her. A determined smile
alights her face and she sprints toward freedom.
The SHOUTS of the guards and overseers follow her, but she
ignores them. Her eyes remain on the wall before her. Outside
of that, everything else in Endovier fades into nothingness,
and only the wall and her labored BREATHS exist.
The arrows and shouts cease and an eerie SILENCE falls over
the rest of the camp, save for Celaenas breathing as she
approaches the wall. Fifty feet.


She reaches out, hand ready to touch the sun-bleached stone.
Her fingers stretch, only a fingertip away from contact-A hand snatches Celaenas collar and drags her forcefully
backward. A SCREAM of frustration, pain, and pure rage forces
its way past her lips.
Her captors other hand grabs her by the neck and holds her
in place, forcing her to look him in the eye. Into the eyes
of the KING of Adarlan (late 50s), the tyrannical ruler and
conqueror of much of the continent or Erilea.
Also the eyes of the man who imprisoned her as a slave a year
before. The king smiles maliciously at her.
Hello, Celaena.
She snarls at him, but his iron, inescapable grip cuts off
much of her air supply.
Or should I call you -He whispers something unintelligible in her ear. Her entire
body goes rigid and sheer terror replaces all other emotions
playing behind her eyes. The king pulls away, his crocodile
grin stretching even further at her reaction.
Oh, yes. Ive been busy the past
year as well. Your old master was
happy to tell me all about you for
a kings ransom.
The king pulls his own sword, an ancient blade called
Nothung, from its scabbard. It gleams dangerously in the
unforgiving sun shining down on Endovier.
And now, its time for this blade
to finish what it started ten years
He trusts the blade up in a flash of light, stabbing her
straight through the heart.



Celaena shoots upright from where she lies on a filthy stone
floor in a closet-sized room. Torchlight from outside the
cell leeches in through the tiny space beneath the door,
providing the only light in the dim room.
Celaenas hand reaches instinctively for her chest, where the
blade ended her life in the dream. Her ragged breathing slows
as the dirt-caked hand comes in contact with only the
severely torn and equally-dirt-caked tunic she wears.
She closes her eyes and takes a deep, albeit, shuddering
My name is Celaena Sardothien and I
will not be afraid.
Celeana leans forward and her loose tunic falls to the side
enough for the three deep scars on her back to show in the
dim light.
My name is Celaena Sardothien and I
will not be afraid.
Footsteps THUNDER outside the door. Celaena ignores them.
My name is Celaena Sardothien.
A key turns in the door and tumblers CLICK into place.
Celaenas eyes shoot open, all trace of fear and
vulnerability gone.
And I will not be afraid.
The reinforced iron door swings open and torchlight floods
into the chamber, illuminating Celaenas hard, unforgiving
gaze on the GUARD on the other side.