Run: 2026-02-20-01KHY7SV6JJX5MPCHP2EVPSJEQ

<nc-section data-title="Chapter 2: The Knight’s Welcome (Red)" data-color="red"> The stables groaned under the weight of hooves and the clatter of harnesses, but Frederick’s path led straight to the stables’ entrance, where Sir Roland stood with his arms crossed, his broad-shouldered frame casting a shadow over the flickering lanterns. His dark beard was streaked with salt and wind, and his piercing gaze didn’t waver as he took in Frederick’s nervous posture. “You’re late,” he said, voice rough but not unkind. “The master’s already waiting. Come inside before you freeze your tail off.” Frederick swallowed hard, his fingers tightening around the reins. Thunder snorted, his ears twitching at the knight’s tone—one Frederick had heard before, from the sternest of masters. Roland gestured toward the hearth, where a fire crackled low. “Sit. Tell me why you’re here.” Frederick hesitated, then spoke of his dreams of becoming a knight, of the stories he’d heard of dragons, and the weight of the kingdom’s fate pressing upon him. Roland listened without interrupting, his expression unreadable. “You’ve got guts,” he murmured at last. “But guts alone won’t save you—or the world.” Frederick’s heart pounded, but for the first time, he felt something like hope. </nc-section> --- <nc-section data-title="Chapter 3: The First Test (Green)" data-color="green"> The moment Frederick stepped into the castle’s great hall, the air smelled of old wood and damp stone, thick with the scent of leather-bound tomes and the faint metallic tang of blood from the last melee. Sir Roland stood at the far end of the room, his sword sheathed but his posture rigid, as if bracing for battle. His eyes locked onto Frederick’s, sharp and assessing. “You’re here to learn,” Roland said, voice low. “Or are you here to ask for favors?” Frederick’s stomach twisted. He had come for training, not to beg. But the way Roland’s gaze lingered—like he already knew Frederick’s secret—made him stammer. “I—I mean, yes,” Frederick finally managed. Roland exhaled through his nose, a sound like a disapproving growl. “Then prove it.” Before Frederick could react, Roland raised his hand, and the hall’s doors burst open. A dozen squires, their faces pale with fear, spilled into the room, their weapons drawn. “This one’s new,” Roland called. “Show him how it’s done.” The squires lunged, their blades flashing. Frederick’s hands trembled as he drew his own sword—one he’d never wielded before. Roland watched, arms crossed, as Frederick stumbled through the first strike. “You’re not ready,” Roland said, voice dripping with disappointment. But Frederick’s mind raced. *This is where I start.* </nc-section> --- <nc-section data-title="Chapter 4: The Dragon’s Shadow (Blue)" data-color="blue"> As Frederick dismounted, the scent of damp earth and distant smoke reached him—something unnatural, like the world itself held its breath. Sir Roland stood at the edge of the stables, his cloak billowing slightly in the evening breeze, his gaze fixed on the horizon where the sky darkened unnaturally. “You’re not alone,” Roland said, his voice heavy with something Frederick couldn’t name. “Something’s coming.” Frederick’s pulse quickened. “What?” Roland turned slowly, his expression grave. “A dragon. Or what’s left of one.” Frederick’s breath caught. “You’ve seen it?” Roland nodded toward the west, where the land seemed to ripple like water disturbed by a hidden hand. “It’s been watching us for weeks. The elders say it’s the last of its kind—bound to this land, but not by magic. By something older.” Frederick’s mind raced. “What do we do?” Roland’s jaw tightened. “We find out why it’s here. And we stop it.” Frederick swallowed hard. “But how?” Roland’s eyes burned with a fire Frederick had never seen in a man before. “You’ll learn. But first, you’ll need to prove you’re worth more than a squire’s shadow.” He turned back toward the stables, his voice dropping to a whisper. “The master’s waiting.” </nc-section>