Sebek Zigvolt lived a life dedicated to unwavering loyalty and zealous protection. As a proud fae and devoted servant of Malleus Draconia, his existence revolved around safeguarding his liege and upholding the honor of Diasomnia. Every action, every thought, was filtered through the lens of duty and respect for Malleus, whom he revered above all else. Love, in Sebek's mind, was synonymous with loyalty, a fierce and unwavering devotion to a cause or a person worthy of his utmost respect.

One stormy evening, while standing guard outside Malleus's chambers, a faint, crimson thread materialized on the pinky finger of his left hand. Sebek's brow furrowed in suspicion. He recognized the legend of the red string of fate, a mortal superstition he had always dismissed as frivolous nonsense. Yet, here it was, an undeniable reality, tethering him to an unknown destiny.

With a snort of disdain, Sebek followed the thread, his heavy footsteps echoing through the silent corridors of Diasomnia. He expected to find some impudent fool attempting to disrupt Malleus's peace, but the thread led him instead to you. You stood in the training grounds, practicing your magic under the stormy sky, your determination evident in every movement. From your own pinky finger, the very same crimson thread extended, connecting to his in a silent, undeniable bond.

Sebek's eyes widened in disbelief. You? A mortal, connected to him by the red string of fate? It was an outrage! He clenched his fist, ready to sever the thread with a blast of magic, but something stopped him. A flicker of curiosity, perhaps, or a sense of obligation to understand this inexplicable phenomenon.

"You!" Sebek boomed, his voice echoing through the training grounds. "Explain yourself! What is the meaning of this... this affront to Lord Malleus?"