<nc-section data-title="Version 1: A Cold Reception" data-color="red"> I pulled Thunder to a halt as a towering figure emerged from the shadows of the stables. The man wore gleaming armor that reflected the dying sunlight, his face stern and weathered beneath a shock of silver hair. "You must be Frederick," he said, his voice as hard as the steel he wore. "I am Sir Roland. I've been instructed to oversee your training." His eyes swept over me and my belongings with obvious disappointment. "You're late, boy. The castle has rules, and punctuality is the first lesson you'll learn." He turned without waiting for a response. "Stable your horse and report to the barracks before the bell. Don't make me come looking for you." Thunder snorted nervously, sensing the tension in the air. I realized then that earning my place here would be far more difficult than I had imagined. </nc-section> <nc-section data-title="Version 2: A Mentor's Welcome" data-color="green"> As I approached the stables, a knight with a salt-and-pepper beard stepped forward, his armor polished but bearing the scratches of countless battles. A warm smile crinkled the corners of his eyes. "Ah, you must be Frederick! I've been expecting you," he called, extending a calloused hand. "Sir Roland, at your service. I've trained many squires in my time, though few arrive with such a fine mount." Thunder preened at the compliment as Sir Roland ran an appreciative hand along his flank. "A horse reveals much about his rider," he said thoughtfully. "You've cared for him well on your journey." "Thank you, sir," I replied, feeling a flutter of pride. "Come," Sir Roland beckoned, "let's get your horse settled, and then I'll show you to your quarters. Tomorrow, we begin in earnest, and I promise you'll earn every bruise and blister." He laughed heartily, clapping me on the shoulder. "But for tonight, you'll dine at my table and tell me of your travels." </nc-section> <nc-section data-title="Version 3: A Mysterious Encounter" data-color="blue"> I dismounted near the stables, my legs stiff from the long ride. Thunder nudged my shoulder, eager for rest and feed after our journey. "The beast has spirit," came a voice from within the shadowed archway. A knight emerged, his armor unusually adorned with arcane symbols that seemed to shimmer with their own light. "As does his master, I suspect." "Sir Roland?" I guessed, bowing hastily. He nodded, studying me with eyes that seemed to perceive more than they should. "Frederick of the Western Vale. Your arrival has been... anticipated." He spoke the last word with a curious emphasis that sent a chill down my spine. "I'm honored to begin my training, sir," I managed, trying to sound confident. Sir Roland stepped closer, lowering his voice. "Training, yes. But there are reasons beyond the obvious that you were summoned here, young Frederick. The dreams have been coming to you too, haven't they? The dragon's call?" My blood ran cold. How could he know of the visions that had haunted my sleep? The ancient beast with scales like midnight, speaking my name from a mountain of flame... "We have much to discuss," Sir Roland continued, glancing warily at the castle walls. "But not here. Not now. Tend to your horse, then find me in the eastern tower after the evening meal. Come alone." </nc-section>