Run: 2026-10-05-01M46BCP2WZYBFP638THXAX069

<nc-section data-title="Version 1" data-color="red"> I reined Thunder to a walk beneath the gatehouse and followed the smell of hay toward the stables. A broad-shouldered knight stood beside the open doors, his cloak thrown back and a brush in one hand. “Frederick?” he called. I dismounted so quickly that my boot caught in the stirrup. The knight caught my elbow before I fell. “Sir Roland,” he said, releasing me once I had found my footing. “Your uncle wrote that you were eager. He neglected to mention you’d be arriving headfirst.” My face burned. “I’m ready to begin my training, sir.” “Good.” He handed me the brush and took Thunder’s reins. “Then begin by looking after the creature that carried you here.” </nc-section> <nc-section data-title="Version 2" data-color="green"> Near the stables, Thunder stopped short. His ears flattened, and I felt a tremor pass through his shoulders. “Easy, lad.” The voice belonged to a knight standing in the shadow of the stable roof. A pale scar crossed his jaw, and his sword belt bore no ornament except a small iron clasp shaped like a dragon. “Frederick, I take it? I’m Sir Roland.” I nodded and climbed down, keeping hold of the reins. “What’s frightened him?” Sir Roland glanced toward the wooded ridge beyond the walls. From somewhere in that direction came a low sound, too deep for a wolf. “Bring him inside,” he said. “We’ll make introductions once the horses are settled.” He reached for the stable door. His other hand rested on his sword. </nc-section> <nc-section data-title="Version 3" data-color="blue"> By the time I reached the stables, the sunset had dwindled to a red line above the western wall. I slid from Thunder’s back, stiff-legged after the long ride, and nearly collided with a man carrying two buckets. He set them down before I could apologize. “You must be Frederick. Sir Roland.” He offered a hand rough with calluses. “Welcome to your new home.” I had imagined a knight in polished armor, not a woolen tunic with hay clinging to one sleeve. Still, I straightened and bowed. “An honor, sir.” “We’ll see whether you think so after tomorrow’s drills.” He smiled and led us toward an empty stall. “Have you eaten?” “Not since morning.” “Then let’s feed your horse and find you some supper. No sense teaching swordwork to a lad who might faint before I strike him.” </nc-section>