[h3]Freagon, Yanin, Jaelnec and Jordan – Outside the Fadewatcher station, Borstown[/h3]
“It's all right,” Jaelnec said, content to smile at Jordan's recounting of his origins rather than dwelling on the tragedy of his own. The phrase itself was mostly a lie – obviously his family being dead was not even remotely “all right” – but it served to assure his new companion that it was not something that was actively tearing him apart. At least not right now. “I've been with Sir Freagon for most of my life at this point, so in a way I guess he's been my new family. And with the Withering and the civil war... yeah, terrible things happen everywhere, all the time. It's much more productive to focus on trying to keep things like that from happening to anyone else.”
Jaelnec continued listening to Jordan's recounting a little about him and Yanin with a small smile, only for that smile to somewhat falter and him to glance nervously at Freagon – whose hand subtly twitched, but otherwise mercifully refrained from reacting – when Jordan called Yanin his “master”. One of the things Jaelnec had learned very early in his relationship with the old knight was that he [I]hated[/I] that word with a passion. Not being called “master” was one of the few entirely irrational things Freagon was adamant about.
“He doesn't, no,” the young nightwalker confirmed Jordan's suspicion regarding their traveling habits. “The only time we've stayed somewhere for more than a day or two was if one of us got sick or injured... or to lie in wait for someone he had decided to slay. So it's mostly just been the two of us.”

Freagon listened to Yanin's questions with his usual stone-faced stoicism, still facing Jordan and Jaelnec and not obviously looking at the other knight.
“Because I am a Knight of the Will,” he stated simply in response to the question of why he bothered. And, a moment later when Yanin asked how Freagon had claimed such a title when the order had reputedly been extinct for as long as it had, he said: “It is not extinct. I am here.”
Only when Yanin asked about when time would be running out did Freagon move his head, though he did so to look up at the sky rather than at the person he was speaking to. He watched the clear, bright blue expanse above, dotted with little fluffy white clouds, and felt the warm sun on his face. Breathed in deeply through his nose.
“Not today. Not tomorrow,” he then said, his tone deadpan as ever, as if even this was of practically no interest to him. “Soon.”