Run: 2026-02-20-01KHY9R5RWE9P531JWA8CMRJ69

Here are three distinct prose sections based on your instructions: --- <nc-section data-title="Version 1: The Weight of Expectations" data-color="red"> The clatter of hooves on cobblestones faded as I dismounted Thunder near the stables, my legs trembling slightly from the long ride. Before I could even loosen the reins, a towering figure emerged from the shadows of the stable entrance. Sir Roland, clad in polished silver armor, his cape billowing behind him like a storm cloud, stood with arms crossed. His piercing blue eyes locked onto mine, assessing me with the same intensity I’d seen in the eyes of a hawk surveying its prey. “Frederick of Black Hollow,” he rumbled, his voice like gravel underfoot. “The king’s squire, sent to learn the ways of the blade.” He stepped closer, his massive gauntlet brushing against the hilt of his sword. “You’re late. The king’s patience is not infinite.” I swallowed hard, my fingers tightening around Thunder’s reins. “I—my horse needed rest, my lord. And the roads were treacherous.” Sir Roland’s lip curled into something between a sneer and a smirk. “Treacherous, or slow?” His gaze flicked to the stable boy already leading Thunder away. “You’ll find the king’s expectations are as sharp as his blades. And his dragons are even more unforgiving.” He turned, his armor gleaming under the fading light. “Follow me. Your first lesson begins at dawn.” </nc-section> --- <nc-section data-title="Version 2: The Unexpected Ally" data-color="green"> The stables were alive with the clatter of harnesses and the lowing of restless horses when Sir Roland stepped into the light. Unlike the imposing figure I’d imagined, he was slightly hunched, his armor dented in places, his once-proud cape now frayed at the edges. His face, though still weathered, bore a faint smile as he approached. “Frederick,” he said, his voice rough but warm. “The king’s new squire. I’m Roland, though most just call me ‘the old knight.’” He chuckled, rubbing the back of his neck. “You look like you’ve seen better days.” I blinked, taken aback by his demeanor. “I—I didn’t expect you to be... here.” “Here?” He gestured to the stables, then to the castle beyond. “This is my home now. Or at least, it was until the dragons came.” His expression darkened for a moment before he forced a grin. “But enough of that. You must be exhausted. Let me show you to your quarters. And don’t worry—if you’re quick, I’ll teach you how to hold a sword before the king’s guards drag you off to the dungeon.” As we walked, I noticed the way his hand lingered near the hilt of his sword, as if he were waiting for something—or someone. The air between us shifted, and for the first time, I wondered if this knight wasn’t just a teacher, but a man carrying secrets far heavier than his armor. </nc-section> --- <nc-section data-title="Version 3: The Dragon’s Shadow" data-color="blue"> Sir Roland’s presence loomed over me like a storm cloud, his massive frame casting a long shadow across the stable yard. His armor was pristine, his posture rigid, and his voice cut through the evening silence like a blade through silk. “Frederick,” he intoned, his voice echoing with the authority of a man who had seen too much. “The king’s squire. The last hope of this kingdom.” His gaze flicked to the castle, where the faint glow of torches flickered against the stone walls. “You’ve arrived at a dangerous time.” I stiffened. “Dangerous?” “Dragons,” he said simply, as if that explained everything. “They’ve returned. And with them, chaos.” He stepped closer, his voice dropping to a whisper. “The king wants you trained. Not just in swordplay, but in the old ways—magic, strategy, survival. You’ll learn here, but you’ll also learn why the last dragon matters.” Before I could ask what he meant, a distant roar echoed through the valley, shaking the ground beneath us. Sir Roland’s hand flew to his sword hilt, his face pale for the first time. “That’s no ordinary beast,” he muttered. “Run. Now.” And with that, he turned and sprinted toward the castle, leaving me standing there, heart pounding, as the roar faded into the distance—followed by the unmistakable sound of wings beating the air. </nc-section>