When Mitt is a boy he's a free soul. He knows no fear, and runs hither and thither as he pleases. When Mitt becomes a man he finds himself the least free soul in all of Dalemark. He goes nowhere without a guard for fear of bombs and snipers' rifles and – worse – petitioners about the price of coal and the length of the working week and the new tax on spirits and—
When Mitt is dead he finds he's a free soul again. He knows no fear for he's outlasted all that he loves. All he can do is wait.