Run: 2026-09-02-01M1GWP5SQ9QBTY4GSQ212VBMK

<nc-section data-title="Chapter 1: The Knight's Welcome" data-color="red"> As I dismounted near the stables, a towering figure emerged from the shadows of the archway. Sir Roland, the local knight, stood clad in his battle-worn armor, his hand resting upon the pommel of his sword. His eyes, sharp as a hawk's, surveyed me from head to boot. "So, you're the boy they sent to me," he rumbled, his voice like distant thunder. "Frederick, is it? You rode hard to arrive before nightfall. Good. Punctuality is the first virtue of a squire." He stepped closer, and I caught the scent of leather and steel. "But know this, boy—the life you've chosen is not for the faint of heart. I will forge you into something stronger than you ever imagined, or I will send you home in shame. There is no middle path." I swallowed hard and met his gaze. "I understand, my lord." A ghost of a smile crossed his weathered face. "We shall see." </nc-section> <nc-section data-title="Chapter 1: An Unexpected Kindness" data-color="green"> The stable hands rushed forward to take Thunder's reins, but before they could reach me, an older man with silver-streaked hair stepped out from between the stalls, wiping his hands on a well-worn cloth. "Ah, you must be Frederick!" Sir Roland's face creased into a warm smile that seemed at odds with the fearsome reputation that preceded him. "We've been expecting you since morning. Come, come—let me look at you." He took Thunder's bridle gently, guiding my exhausted stallion into a spacious stall already filled with fresh hay. "Your father wrote to me last spring, you know. He said you have a way with horses. I can see it already—the animal trusts you." I dismounted, my legs stiff from the long journey. "Thank you, Sir Roland. My father speaks highly of you as well." "He would be too kind, then." The knight chuckled, a rich sound that echoed off the stable walls. "Come inside. Supper is waiting, and there will be time enough for training tomorrow. Tonight, you are a guest in my home." </nc-section> <nc-section data-title="Chapter 1: Whispers in the Dusk" data-color="blue"> Dusk had settled fully over the castle when I handed Thunder's reins to a stable boy and turned to find a knight watching me from beneath the eaves. I had not heard his approach. "Sir Roland?" I asked, though the crest on his surcoat—two crossed swords beneath a crescent moon—confirmed it before he spoke. "The same." His voice was quiet, almost melancholy. He looked not at me but past me, toward the darkening horizon where the mountains swallowed the last light of sunset. "You come at a strange time, young squire. Strange indeed." "Strange, my lord?" He turned his attention to me at last, and I saw something unexpected in his expression—not the stern confidence I had imagined in a knight of his renown, but something resembling worry. "There have been reports from the northern villages. Livestock gone missing. Burned ground where nothing has walked. The old signs." Sir Roland placed a hand on my shoulder, his grip firm but not unkind. "I had hoped for quiet years to train you. I fear the kingdom may not grant us that luxury. Rest tonight, Frederick. Tomorrow, your education begins—and it may matter more than any of us yet know." </nc-section>