[h3]Freagon, Yanin, Jaelnec and Jordan – Outside the Fadewatcher station, Borstown[/h3]
Closing his eye and fighting back the surge of impatience and annoyance he felt rising within himself, Freagon had to take a moment to calm himself before he could deal with Yanin's questions. He was like a dog with a bone, absolutely refusing to let go no matter how much Freagon tried to keep things vague or being willfully obtuse with his explanations. It was particularly aggravating because he knew that he might behave in the same way in some situations, when he was trying to obtain information that might be important, but he did not hound people about being evasive indiscriminately. What had he done to earn this degree of scrutiny, he wondered? Or was this just how Yanin was? Would the other potential members for the band Freagon meant to form be subject to the same kind of dredging of their secrets, or was he special?
The old nightwalker actually had to take another deep breath to delay and give him more time to regain his self-control. It was not just the unwavering intent to unearth the truth about him that infuriated him so, but even more so that this behavior reminded him of an element of his past he tried his best not to think about. [I]That creature[/I] had had the same intolerance for deception of secrecy, and had spared no effort to pry the truth from Freagon any time he had so much as attempted to keep something from him. The fact that Yanin reminded Freagon of [I]him[/I] in any way was... not encouraging, to say the least.
But even so, Yanin seemed to be a formidable warrior, and a knight to boot. Freagon needed to assemble a party, and he likely needed Yanin in particular... so regardless of how satisfying it would have been to murder him on the spot, he had to endure. There was more at stake here than his feelings. And he had to give the human knight enough to sate his lust for truth.

The first question of “[I]How[/I] are you here?” was one Freagon had successfully avoided telling people the full story about for decades, because people usually either decided to accept the part of it he gave them or just moved on rather than keep digging. And the few people who [I]had[/I] kept digging, Freagon had been free to simply turn away and abstain from interacting with them. The fact that someone here, among these people, would be so dogged about it so soon after meeting him... it was rather frustrating. But he had to deal with it.
“I am a Knight of the Will because when I became one, the knighthood wasn't extinct yet,” he said, lowering his voice so that only Yanin would hear. He glared at Yanin with his one black eye, resisting the temptation to draw his sword and kill the man immediately. “I was killed toward the end, during the business with Nogon Kinslayer. I am here now because I was resurrected fifty years ago.”

Yanin's other question, though equally bothersome, at least did not pertain to information Freagon had kept to himself for decades. It was a new, fresh secret... but one that was no less painful for him to share.
Freagon glanced at Jaelnec and Jordan, making sure that they were still engrossed in their conversation and would not hear, and spoke once more in a lowered voice: “The mark of the Withering has appeared on my skin.”