Run: 2026-02-16-01KHK9RSW1KFEQ57HZ69EFT020

<nc-section data-title="Chapter 2: The Greeting at the Stables (Red Edition)" data-color="red"> Sunlight spills across the stable yard as Sir Roland steps from between the stalls, armor gleaming. He greets Frederick near Thunder’s stall with a measured nod and a firm, gauntleted handshake. “Frederick,” he says, voice calm, “I am Sir Roland. Welcome to your apprenticeship.” Thunder snorts and noses the newcomer, the scent of leather, hay, and sweat thick in the air. Frederick answers with a cautious smile, trying to keep his voice steady. The knight studies him for a moment, then gestures toward the training yard. “We begin with your balance and bearing. Walk Thunder, keep him steady, then we ride.” The moment feels like a doorway opening, and Frederick steps forward into the life that awaits. </nc-section> <nc-section data-title="Chapter 2: The Greeting at the Stables (Green Edition)" data-color="green"> Emerald banners flicker and cast a warm glow across the stalls. Sir Roland steps out of the shade, boots crunching on straw, cloak brushing the backs of the horses’ backs as he moves. He greets Frederick near the stables with a brisk nod and a ring of steel in his voice. “Frederick, I am Sir Roland. You ride with spirit, but today you prove you belong here.” Frederick returns the greeting, the weight of the castle already pressing on his shoulders. The knight eyes Thunder, then toward the courtyard beyond. “Take the reins,” he says, “show me you can listen to the horse as you listen to your heart.” Frederick moves closer to Thunder, and the stableyard seems to brighten with a growing, cautious promise. </nc-section> <nc-section data-title="Chapter 2: The Greeting at the Stables (Blue Edition)" data-color="blue"> Under a pale blue sky, Sir Roland strides from the gate toward the stables. The knight’s armor hums with a quiet rhythm as he approaches Frederick by Thunder’s stall. “Frederick,” he says, voice clipped but not unkind, “I am Sir Roland. Welcome to the training ground.” He studies the squire with patient scrutiny, then points to the ring of posts set in dust. “Show me you can think and move with your horse: mount, ride a figure eight, and return.” Thunder shifts its weight, and Frederick feels a spark of challenge arcing through him. The stableyard narrows to a small world where the future will be decided with each careful turn of the horse. </nc-section>