Run: 2026-10-09-01M4FZRA4JVFZ4TW63YDABPXTX

<nc-section data-title="Chapter 1: A Warm Welcome" data-color="red"> I guided Thunder through the castle gates and into the bustling courtyard, where stable hands called out to one another over the clatter of hooves and rattling carts. Before I could dismount, a broad-shouldered man in dented steel strode toward me, his cloak swirling behind him. His graying beard was trimmed close, and a white scar ran across the bridge of his nose. "You must be Frederick," he said, his voice rumbling like distant thunder. "I am Sir Roland. The master of this castle sent word that a new squire would arrive at dusk. You made good time." I slid from the saddle, my legs stiff from the long ride, and bowed as deeply as my aching back allowed. "Sir Roland. It is an honor to be here. I will work as hard as you require." He studied me for a long moment, then clapped a heavy hand on my shoulder. "Good. Hard work is the only thing this castle values more than loyalty. Come, let us see Thunder settled. Then I will show you where you will sleep, and where your training begins at first light." </nc-section> <nc-section data-title="Chapter 1: The Knight of the Stables" data-color="green"> Thunder snorted and tossed his head as I led him through the wide archway of the stables. The air inside smelled of hay, leather, and oil. A figure emerged from the shadows of an empty stall, wiping his hands on a rag. It was a tall knight with silver-streaked hair tied back at the nape of his neck, and a sword belted at his hip that had seen many battles. "Easy, boy," the knight said, reaching out to stroke Thunder's neck before I could stop him. The horse calmed at once. "I am Sir Roland, and I keep watch over this stable as much as I keep watch over the men who ride from it. You are the new squire?" "I am, sir," I replied, straightening my tunic. "Frederick, of the northern hills." Sir Roland's gaze moved over me, weighing my posture, my hands, my boots. "The northern hills breed stubborn people and fine horses. I hope you are both. Unhitch your saddle and I will show you how we care for mounts here. A squire who neglects his horse will never be trusted with a knight's." He handed me a brush, and I got to work, feeling his eyes on me the whole time. </nc-section> <nc-section data-title="Chapter 1: Steel and Welcome" data-color="blue"> The stable doors groaned open, and out strode a knight whose armor gleamed despite the dusk, every plate polished to a soft silver shine. He carried a practice helm under one arm and grinned as though he had been waiting all day for someone new to arrive. "Frederick! Sir Roland, at your service," he announced, sweeping a short bow that nearly knocked the helm from his arm. His hair was dark and unruly, and a thin scar cut through one eyebrow, giving him a perpetually amused look. "Don't let the fancy armor fool you. I only polish it when the lord's steward is watching." I laughed despite my weariness and dismounted, handing Thunder's reins to a nearby stable boy. "It is good to meet you, Sir Roland. I was told the castle keeps its knights to a high standard." "Standards are for the knights who have nothing better to do," he said, clapping me on the back so hard I stumbled. "You will learn quickly that the real work happens in the yard, in the mud, and over a bad supper. Come on. Thunder has a stall waiting, and I want to see whether you can handle a sword as well as you handle a horse." </nc-section>