<nc-section data-title="The Stern Knight" data-color="red"> As I dismounted near the stables, a man with a face like weathered granite stepped out from the shadows. Sir Roland didn't offer a hand or a smile; he simply watched as I wiped the sweat from Thunder's flanks. "You're late, boy," he barked, his voice rasping like metal on stone. "In this castle, time is as precious as steel. Tether your horse and meet me in the courtyard. Your training begins when the sun touches the horizon, not a moment later." </nc-section> <nc-section data-title="A Warm Welcome" data-color="green"> I was still catching my breath when a hearty laugh echoed through the stable yard. A tall knight with a salt-and-pepper beard approached, clapping a heavy hand on my shoulder. "You must be Frederick! You have your father's eyes," Sir Roland said, his expression softening with a nostalgic glint. "Thunder looks like a fine beast, but he’ll need a good brushing. Settle him in, then join me for a meal. We have much to discuss before we put a wooden sword in your hand." </nc-section> <nc-section data-title="The Silent Assessment" data-color="blue"> The smell of hay and old leather filled the air as I led Thunder toward an empty stall. Standing there, leaning against a wooden post, was Sir Roland. He was polishing a silver gauntlet, his movements methodical and rhythmic. He looked me up and down, eyes scanning for any sign of weakness or hesitation. "The road was long, Squire," he noted quietly, his gaze returning to his armor. "Rest tonight. Tomorrow, the castle will test if you are a rider of horses or a leader of men." </nc-section>