Content warning: This arc contains graphic depictions of violence, strong language, physical abuse, psychological abuse, mind breaking, implied drugs (love potions) and involuntary violence. If any of these themes are triggering to you, please read with caution. Your mental wellbeing comes first.

The day had begun before the sun, as it always had for Gantlos. His farm wasn't big by any means, but it was still a lot of work for one man. This farm was his livelihood, the product of years of hard labor. He'd worked like a dog building it up, just as he had built his reputation. Gantlos was an honest man, but his imposing physical appearance, coupled with his seismic wave magic, made people wary of him. Despite their caution, they were always cordial, and business had always been steady.

Today, though, something felt off. The air was thick with a strange tension, as if the earth itself held its breath. Gantlos paused, wiping the sweat from his brow as the distant sound of horse hooves on dirt reached his ears. He looked up from his work, squinting at the horizon.

A carriage appeared on the dirt path leading to his field, its wheels kicking up dust as it rolled to a stop. Two men emerged. The first was striking, with flaming red hair and piercing cold eyes that seemed to cut through the morning haze. Gantlos felt a frown tug at the corners of his mouth at the sight of him. The second man was skinnier, with dreaded hair that framed a face marked by sadness and discomfort. Gantlos's gaze lingered on this second man, his demeanor hardening as the flashier of the two approached him.

"Hello there, sir. I am looking for a man named Gantlos. Have you seen him?" The red-haired man's voice was smooth, almost too smooth, like honey laced with poison. Gantlos hated it, to him it was sickening.

Gantlos simply nodded, keeping his expression neutral.

The man with the flaming hair smiled, his cold eyes never warming. "I am Ogron, and this," he gestured to the other man, "is Ana."

Gantlos noticed how the man introduced Ana, as if he couldn't speak for himself. That didn't sit right with him.

"Ana? Is that your name?" Gantlos addressed the skinnier man directly, ignoring Ogron's intrusion into the conversation.

To his annoyance, it was Ogron who answered again. "Yes, he's just Ana."

Gantlos narrowed his eyes, unamused. He turned away from them, gesturing for the two to follow him to the barn. "I'm the guy you're looking for," he said, his voice gruff.

As they walked, Gantlos kept a wary eye on Ogron. There was something about the man that set his nerves on edge, like the calm before a storm. The king's eyes gleamed with a strange enjoyment, a predator's satisfaction at finding new prey. Gantlos felt a chill despite the warmth of the day. His resolve hardened.

Ogron, however, seemed unfazed by Gantlos's cold reception. In fact, he seemed to relish it. "You're a man of few words, I like that," Ogron purred, a smile playing on his lips. "I've heard much about you, Gantlos. A man of principle, hardworking, strong. Exactly the kind of man I'm looking for."

Gantlos continued his work as they reached the barn, his back to Ogron. The king's honeyed words flowed like a river, trying to erode Gantlos's resolve, but the farmer was unmoved. He could feel Ogron's eyes on him, studying him, calculating.

"I'm not interested," Gantlos said, his tone flat, as he hoisted a heavy sack onto his shoulder. "I've got my own life here."

Ogron's eyes flashed with something dark and satisfied, as if Gantlos's refusal was exactly what he'd expected, or perhaps what he'd wanted. "Of course, of course," Ogron replied, almost gushing. "A man like you wouldn't be easily swayed, would you? That's precisely why I came all this way. But I do hope you'll reconsider. A man like you deserves more than this small patch of land, more than this…" he glanced around, a slight sneer on his lips, "simple life."

Gantlos ignored him, focusing on his work. But the bad feeling gnawed at his gut, growing stronger with each word that fell from Ogron's lips. There was something deeply unsettling about this king, something that whispered of danger and deceit. Gantlos was not one for nonsense, and that's all this "king" seemed to offer.

Ogron had returned to Ana, and Gantlos couldn't help but notice how the skinnier man seemed to grow more and more upset with each passing moment. There was something about the sadness in Ana's eyes that struck a chord in Gantlos. It was as if he could feel the weight of whatever was troubling the man, and it made him uneasy. What really grated on Gantlos's nerves, though, was the smug satisfaction plastered across the king's face as he strolled back to the field.

"I already told you no," Gantlos huffed, irritation lacing his words.

Ogron's grin only widened as he approached. "Yes, darling, I recall. But I was hoping to change your mind—"

"He's upset," Gantlos interrupted, his tone cold and unwavering.

The king stopped in his tracks, momentarily taken aback by Gantlos's bluntness. It was as if he wasn't accustomed to being spoken to in such a way. A flash of irritation flickered in his eyes, but it was quickly replaced by a gleam of twisted satisfaction.

"My, my, you're quite powerful when you speak. I love that—" Ogron began, but once again, he was cut off.

"Why is he upset?" Gantlos's voice was like stone, firm and unyielding.

Ogron chuckled lightly, but there was a slight edge to it now. "Ana darling is just having a hard day," he said, leaning in closer as if sharing a secret. "He's my lover, you see. He hasn't been on Earth in quite some time, and he's worried that our relationship might be dangerous—"

Gantlos's gaze never wavered as he cut the king off again. "He sounds smart. You ought to listen to him. Most folks get high-strung about other people's business, especially the further you get from the fairies. If I were you, I'd go put a smile on that man's face."

For a brief moment, Ogron's confident demeanor cracked, and a scowl twisted his features. But it was gone as quickly as it appeared, replaced by a sickly-sweet smile. "Oh, I plan to~," he purred, his voice grating on Gantlos's nerves. "And I'm sure I could make you smile as well—"

Gantlos stepped forward, towering over Ogron, but his stance wasn't one of dominance. It was something else entirely—an unwavering resolve, a line in the sand that he refused to let anyone cross.

"Do not be loose with me," Gantlos warned, his voice low and deadly serious. "There's nothing I hate more than a partner's disloyalty."

Ogron's grin returned, wider and more manic than before. He seemed almost delighted by Gantlos's words, as if he'd found exactly what he was looking for. This man was hardworking, strong, loyal—qualities that the king valued highly.

Sensing a shift in the farmer's mood, Ogron quickly changed his approach. "I deeply apologize if I gave you the wrong impression," he said smoothly, his tone suddenly softer, more earnest. "I was simply trying to be persuasive."

Gantlos looked past Ogron, his eyes settling on Ana once more. The man looked utterly defeated, like a kicked puppy. Gantlos sighed heavily, his resolve wavering just a fraction.

"If I consider your offer, will you go back to your little lover boy?" Gantlos asked, his voice gruff but not unkind. "He looks like he could use some lovin."

Ogron's eyes lit up with a gleeful sparkle, and he practically jumped up with joy. "Oh yes, of course! Thank you!"

Gantlos watched as the king hurried back to Ana's side, his previous bravado replaced with something almost boyish in its enthusiasm. As the two men retreated, Gantlos shook his head, muttering under his breath, "Damn. That is one strange son of a bitch."