Run: 2026-07-01-01KWE8YHBHS472SZC9E3XS30AK

<nc-section data-title="Chapter 1: A Knight's Welcome" data-color="red"> As Thunder's hooves clattered against the cobblestones of the courtyard, a broad-shouldered figure emerged from the shadow of the stables. Sir Roland's armor caught the last rays of sunlight, and his weathered face broke into a welcoming grin beneath his graying beard. "You must be the new squire," he called out, his voice deep and resonant with the authority of countless battles. "Frederick, is it? I've heard word of your arrival from the messenger hawk." I dismounted quickly, my legs still unsteady from the long ride, and bowed my head respectfully. "Yes, Sir Roland. I'm honored to begin my training under you." The knight's calloused hand clasped my shoulder firmly. "Honored, eh? We'll see if you still feel that way after your first week of mucking out stables and polishing armor until your arms ache." Despite the gruff words, his eyes held a warmth that put me at ease. "Come, let's get Thunder settled. A horse that's carried you this far deserves a good rest and feed." </nc-section> <nc-section data-title="Chapter 1: An Unexpected Greeting" data-color="green"> The stables loomed ahead, their wooden beams weathered by countless seasons. As I slowed Thunder to a trot, a man stepped out from between two stalls, brushing hay from his tunic. Even in simple work clothes, there was no mistaking the bearing of a knight—the way he carried himself, alert and ready, spoke of years of discipline. "Easy there," he said, not unkindly, raising a hand toward Thunder's bridle. "You've ridden hard, by the look of your horse's lather. I'm Sir Roland, castle guard-captain. And unless I'm mistaken, you'd be the squire we've been expecting?" "Frederick, sir," I managed, still catching my breath from the journey. "I apologize if I'm later than expected—the roads were longer than I anticipated." Sir Roland chuckled, taking Thunder's reins as I slid from the saddle. "Roads always are, lad. Don't fret over it. Better late and in one piece than early and broken." He studied me for a moment, his sharp eyes assessing in a way that made me stand a little straighter. "Well, you've got good bones for a fighter, I'll say that much. Let's get you settled before the evening meal. Training starts at dawn, and I promise you, dawn comes quickly in this castle." </nc-section> <nc-section data-title="Chapter 1: The Guard-Captain's Test" data-color="blue"> I brought Thunder to a halt near the stable entrance, the horse's breath coming in great clouds in the cooling evening air. Before I could even dismount, a stern voice rang out across the yard. "You're late." I turned to find a tall man leaning against the stable door, arms crossed, his chainmail glinting even in the dimming light. This had to be Sir Roland—the knight my father had spoken of with such reverence. "Forgive me, Sir Roland," I said, swinging down from the saddle with more confidence than I felt. "I lost my way twice past the millhouse." His stern expression didn't waver, but something flickered in his eyes—perhaps amusement, perhaps calculation. "A squire who admits his mistakes rather than making excuses. That's rarer than you'd think." He pushed off from the doorframe and approached, circling Thunder with a critical eye. "Good horse. Well-kept, despite the hard ride. Says something about the rider too." He stopped before me, extending a hand in a grip that nearly crushed my fingers. "We'll see what you're made of soon enough, young Frederick. The kingdom doesn't need squires who merely mean well—it needs those who can act when it matters. Now, stable your horse properly. I'll be watching." The weight of his gaze followed me as I led Thunder into the stables, and I understood then that my training had already begun. </nc-section>