<nc-section data-title="Version 1: The Stern Welcome" data-color="red"> Sir Roland emerged from the shadows of the stable, his armor dulled by years of battle. His face was scarred, one eye clouded with age, and his expression held no warmth. "You're late, boy," he growled, not bothering to help as I dismounted from Thunder. "The others arrived at dawn. I don't tolerate tardiness." He circled me slowly, his critical gaze taking in every detail of my worn travel clothes and dust-covered boots. "You think you have what it takes to become a knight? You look like a farmer's son playing dress-up." His words stung, but I held my ground, meeting his one good eye with determination. A thin smile crossed his lips. "Good. At least you're not a coward. Take your horse to the stable master. Training begins before sunrise tomorrow. Don't be late again." </nc-section> <nc-section data-title="Version 2: The Friendly Mentor" data-color="green"> "Ho there, young squire!" A booming voice called out as I approached the stables. Sir Roland strode forward with a broad smile, his polished armor gleaming in the fading sunlight. He was a mountain of a man, but his eyes twinkled with kindness. "You must be Frederick! We've been expecting you." He extended a calloused hand and shook mine firmly. "That's a fine horse you have there. Thunder, is it?" He patted the stallion's neck with the confidence of someone who understood animals well. "Come, let me show you where he'll be staying. The stable master here is the best in three kingdoms—your companion will be well cared for." As we walked, he placed a fatherly hand on my shoulder. "I know the journey must have been long. Get yourself settled tonight, have a warm meal, and we'll begin your training tomorrow. You're going to do well here, Frederick. I can sense it." </nc-section> <nc-section data-title="Version 3: The Mysterious Introduction" data-color="blue"> The stable doors creaked open, and a figure stepped into the dying light. Sir Roland was neither young nor old, his face unreadable beneath a hood despite the warmth of the evening. "Frederick," he said quietly, as if he'd known I would arrive at precisely this moment. His voice carried an odd quality—not unkind, but distant, as though his thoughts were always elsewhere. He studied Thunder with unusual intensity, then placed his hand on the horse's forehead. Thunder, normally spirited and restless, became perfectly still. "Your mount has carried you far," Sir Roland murmured. "He bears the mark of the old bloodlines. Curious." His eyes—a peculiar shade of silver—fixed on me. "There is much to teach you, Frederick, but first, you must learn to see what others miss. Come. Before we stable your horse, there is something in the east tower I would show you. The stars are aligning tonight, and some lessons cannot wait for dawn." </nc-section>