To Flint's dismay, Norvall didn't seem to intend to use the waypoint, and instead began walking out of the front of the estate to the road in the woods, signaling for Flint to follow him.
The pine trees loomed over them, with acorns and leaves carpeting the ground. Unfortunately, the soothing presence he felt from the Valerius statue was gone – replaced with a mild headache.
Flint tried asking Norvall some questions, but he ignored him. Which felt strange, because usually Flint was the one doing the ignoring. Being on the other side of the coin only aggravated Flint's headache.
After several minutes of silence broken with the occasional dash by a startled squirrel, they soon arrived at a transport vehicle parked by the size of the road – except it was different from what Flint was used to, with windows that were tinted pitch black and metal wheels that shone with the light of the noon sun.
In the midst of approaching the vehicle, Flint noticed a figure inside the driver seat. The slim man got out and greeted the two of them, but not before flashing a look of.. sympathy?
"Flint, this is Benji – my friend and our chauffeur for this trip." Norvall nodded his head to the two of them. "And Benji boy, remember what I told you about Flint."
"Yes, Lord Norvall." Benji held out his hand for a handshake to Flint.
Gving the two of them a strange look, Flint took a moment to study Benji.
He was fitted in a dress shirt, and had a neutral but friendly expression. Despite looking around 20, he was also completely bald.
Flint glanced at his outstretched hand before accepting the handshake. The chauffeur's hand was rough and hard, a strong contrast to his soft facial features.
Benji opened the door for the two of them to get in the backseat, but Norvall shook his head, choosing to sit in the front instead.
Outwardly, Flint frowned, but he was secretly glad he didn't have to sit next to Norvall – that smell of his could be used as a bio-weapon.
Praying that Norvall's moodiness had worn off, Flint tried asking a question.
"So what was the point of you wasting soul essence activating that waypoint in the gardens when you could've just walked there from the car?"
Norvall glanced over his seat – which was straining under his weight – and responded. "Kid, first of all, you need to get a new waypoint. That thing is essentially a piece of decor at this point. The range on that thing gives me a headache." He grinned. "Second, it makes me look cool doesn't it?"
"Eh.. not really." Flint shrugged, "I still think you're lame."
"You just don't get it kiddo. Maybe once you've got more experience in the real world."
Despite all this bantering, Flint noticed Norvall wasn't meeting his eyes. Coward. And a hypocrite at that.
If Norvall was so worried about what would happen to Flint, he could've just paid off the excess tribute that Flint lacked out of his own pockets.
"Bullshit." He snarled. "Now, where is this car headed?"
"Even if I tell you it doesn't change anything. Besides.. you probably already know."
Flint snorted, kicking the back of Norvall's seat.
'I already know'. What the hell did that mean?
Glancing over to the driver seat, it didn't look like talking to Benji could be of any help, so Flint chose to lean back and shut his eyes to quell his headache.
—
Several hours later – with an uneventful drive and a stop at a convenience store – Benji finally pulled to a stop.
"Kid, this bio-engineered stuff is better than I thought." Norvall said through a mouth full of an unidentifiable meat. "You want some?"
Shaking his head in disgust, Flint stepped out of the vehicle and looked around. The heavily tinted windows made it hard to see inside or outside the vehicle, so Flint had to guess where they were going by the movement of the vehicle and the one stop that they had made.
He did consider making a run for it, but there were no handles inside the car. Which normally wouldn't have been a problem, but there's no way he could've escaped from a Vessel – or two. Especially if Norvall was actually a rank higher and a Warden like Flint suspected.
Snapping back to focus, he realized they arrived at the large nearby port city, but it was a section he'd never been at before.
In the distance, Flint could see the glimmer of the Pacific. To his left and right, there was a line of expensive villas every several miles that held a vintage air to them, but they felt out of place and artificial, adding to the uneasy feeling creeping down his neck.
Yet, the building that they were parked at stood out. Absolutely massive, even compared to the nearby residences.
It was surrounded by an iron fence that should've been rusted all over. The air around it shimmered, reminiscent of the old reality warping toys his brother had brought for him.
His grandad always despised those. Said they would make the new generation yearn to become Vessels themselves, to become able to wield the powers that they saw the toy do. Said that it would replace the fear required for survival with a curiosity for magic, which was a death sentence.
The gate to this foreboding residence bore the distinct seal of the Thyran clan, a rhino with two horns that shone a glistening silver.
"It's one of the main Thyran facilities on this continent." Norvall commented. "Not as fancy as yer old place, but you'll live."
Impatient, Flint scoffed and stretched his hand to the gate. He touched it for a mere second before pulling it back, wincing in pain.
Norvall smothered a laugh. "Yeah, forgot you ain't got your Soul scanned yet for clearance to Thyran facilities."
Flint was tempted to take his knife out of the folds of his jacket and give the lunk some pokes. Perhaps the smell of blood would be an upgrade to whatever unholy scents the Thyran had applied. That was assuming he knew what perfume was and that this wasn't his natural musk.
If so, god help us all.
"Whatever, just open the damned door."
Norvall paused, giving him an eyebrow raise. "Boy, even though I know you're not going to listen, you'd best hold that tongue of yours from here on out."
Rolling his eyes, Flint was about to respond, the gate suddenly swung open.