Run: 2026-10-08-01M4DAEDM9NVNXQ2RC4QR45GMK

<nc-section data-title="Chapter 1: A Knight at the Stables" data-color="red"> Thunder had barely slowed before I swung down from his saddle, my boots striking the packed earth of the stable yard. A stable boy hurried forward to take the reins, but a tall figure stepped between us first. He wore dented plate armor polished at the edges, and a grey cloak hung from his shoulders. "You must be the new squire," he said, his voice rough but not unkind. "I am Sir Roland. I have been told you ride like a man running from his own shadow." I straightened, unsure whether that was praise or a warning. "I ride as fast as my horse allows, Sir." He laughed, a short bark that startled a nearby hen. "Good. Speed will keep you alive on the road, but patience will keep you alive in the yard. We shall see which you have more of." </nc-section> <nc-section data-title="Chapter 1: The Weight of Welcome" data-color="green"> The stable doors creaked as I led Thunder into the yard, and the smell of hay and leather wrapped around me like an old friend I had never met. Near the water trough stood a knight, his helm tucked beneath one arm and his silver hair cropped close to his scalp. He studied me for a long moment before speaking. "Frederick, son of the miller's widow, yes? Your letter spoke of courage. I hope it did not exaggerate." My cheeks burned. "I have done my best to earn what it said, Sir." "Then we begin with honesty, which is a fine start." He stepped forward and rested a gauntleted hand on Thunder's neck. The horse, who bit every stranger who came near him, merely snorted. Sir Roland's eyes softened. "Your horse trusts me already. That is a good sign. Come, the armory is cold, but the hearth in the great hall is warm, and there is a meal waiting for the boy who rode so far." </nc-section> <nc-section data-title="Chapter 1: Steel and Sunset" data-color="blue"> I had hardly dismounted when a voice called from the shadows of the stables. "Careful with that horse. He has the temper of a storm and the appetite of a glutton." A knight emerged into the fading light, a battered shield slung across his back. His face was lined with old scars, and a crooked smile tugged at one corner of his mouth. "I am Sir Roland, and you are Frederick. The lads have been wagering whether you would arrive before dark. I see I have lost a few coins." I bowed as best I could with the reins still in my hand. "I hope I have not disappointed the gentlemen of the castle, Sir." "Disappointment is a thing that happens to the idle," he replied, clapping me on the shoulder hard enough to rattle my teeth. "You have arrived, and that is enough for tonight. Tomorrow, we find out what sort of squire you truly are." </nc-section>