The easiest way to find Sebek is to walk around the Night Raven campus, going "where's my Sebek?"
It elicits odd stares and plenty of snickers from the other students, but it gets the job done. You'll know when he's nearby. After repeating this phrase enough times and in multiple places around campus, you'll hear a familiar thundering cry.
"I am not your Sebek!"
The shout is eventually followed by the man himself. You can tell what direction he's in by the heavy stomps, thudding against the ground almost as loud as his voice. His frown is as sharp as his furrowed brows. The slight tinge of embarrassment colors his face.
"Human! How dare you..."
The familiar face makes you smile with joy. "There you are! There's my Sebek."
He falters. It's clear he has so much to say, but can't find the right words to get out first. They pile up in his mouth while he stammers. You fear you may have traumatized him until the verbal barrage bursts out like a dam.
"How dare you! You know I serve none other than the great heir to Briar Valley. To even imply that I am yours? A mere human's? Inconceivable! Your absurdity knows no bounds!"
He sounds as energetic as ever. You decide to interrupt the angry monologue before he really gets going.
"Sebek, I wanted to know if we're still having lunch together."
"To insult the very essence of my being! As if you..."
It takes a hot second for your inquiry to reach his ears, but when he catches it, the rambling drifts off. He grows oddly quiet. He balls his hands into fists and unclenches them several times in quick succession, testing the limits of his uniform gloves. This would already have delved into a physical fight if you were any other student.
Despite your inane actions, you're practically harmless. Any great guard should easily be able to ignore petty taunts. It's best to consider this a test. Sebek clears his throat.
"Of course we are. You didn't have to come find me just for that. I always keep my word." The redness of his ear tips peeking out from under his hair remind you of a Christmas tree.
"Great! Can't wait."
You stick out your hand for a parting high five. Sebek subverts expectations by grabbing your palm. His gloves are warm and a little sweaty after rushing to find you, and his grip is anything but soft in a boyish display of dominance.
"Do not do this again," he says. He's stern, but after that warning his voice drops to a normal level and he sounds almost gentle. "Just... text me, like a normal person. You have my number."