The Sister Administrator, who eventually introduced herself as Sarah Lockwain, stayed for the night with Francine and Missus Fennickken. It was difficult enough piloting a skimmer during sunset, she had explained, and that much worse after full dark. Francine didn't mind. There was enough room, all told. Missus Fennickken kept her small pallet, Francine her little cot. The other guest stayed on the sitting room chair, which had a lever to lean it back.

The Listener's laughter had faded, after a few minutes. But now, her silence was somehow even more present. It felt to Francine as if the woman was leaning over her shoulder all the time. Normally, her presence came and went as the Listener spoke. Francine tried to ignore it as she settled in for sleep.

Sleep in the forest had never come easily to her. She expected it didn't come easily to anyone; even her Uncle Pin had complained that he never felt restful while hunting, and despite traveling with him for two days, she had never actually Mister Hildesman asleep. Missus Fennickken's odd little house wasn't technically forest. It had a wall and everything, if a small one. But it was close enough to feel the same.

"You know, I am curious about your host's little wall." The Listener finally broke her silence to say. Was she listening to Francine's thoughts? "Only the loud ones, child. It's how I talk to you. I can't exactly do things the traditional way with my realm closed off."

Francine did her best to ignore the woman, to not think about why the wall was interesting, to not ask what the Listener meant by the traditional way. "Oh, what a few hundred years can do to the knowledge humanity once held so close. My Champion, we will have to see about educating you, I suppose. But first, I need you to understand. You still hide behind the dogma passed down by that ingrate who built the altar to my sister. Until you set aside your so-called faith, you cannot truly understand what I am, or what you are meant to be."

I don't want to understand you. Francine thought at the voice, her lips moving silently in the darkened room. You are just a story. A forest story, told and repeated until it had a voice in my head.

"Shockingly, that's closer to true than your usual rhetoric, child." The Listener sounded...proud? Of Francine? "But let's get back to the wall thing. You've noticed that your gracious host has a most unusual wall. It's too short. I wonder if you even begin to understand the significance of that?"

Easier to get in an' out. Francine thought immediately. It helps keep smaller animals at bay. Missus Follickken can handle the larger ones, and the direbeasts. I guess she must worry about bandits, some. But she's a trapper, and I know she's got weapons all over the house. Probably isn't worth the risk.

The Listener gave the impression of waving a hand dismissively. Francine almost felt for a moment like her sponsor had taken imaginary shape in her head, but then she was nothing but a voice once more. "All true, child. And all so far from the point. The point is that stone is a prison. Your host, she's more perceptive than most. She probably doesn't even realize why she built her walls this way. If she trapped herself within stone walls, how could she be truly free?"

But I grew up inside stone walls. I was always free. Francine protested. Then, realizing how that sounded, she amended her thought to, I always felt free. And Missus Fennickken lived in the city.

"There's freedom and there's freedom, Champion. Missus Fennickken figured it out at some point. How I wish I had been free myself to watch her life. Leaving the wall, sensing that freedom of spirit. I could almost compose a song about it. Maybe someday, I'll get her to tell me herself. After I'm free."

You're as free as I am, Listener. You're a part of my mind. As if the thought had reminded her about Missus Fennickken's advice not to talk to her Sponsor as an actual person, Francine latched on to the words. You're just a piece of my imagination. You aren't another person. You're just my own thoughts. You're just a piece of my imagination.

Laughing, the Listener faded, her hovering presence relaxed. After several more moments of contemplation, Francine was finally lulled to sleep by the sense of chores well done and unburdened by a lingering curiosity and unease that should have outlasted the Listener's voice in her head.

---

This story originates from Royal Road. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.

The next morning, Francine awoke just before sunrise to find Missus Fennickken and Miss Lockwain working together on the skimmer that had brought Sister Lockwain and the supplies. She put on her boots and went to help.

"Good morning, Miss Walthers," Sister Lockwain said cheerfully. "I'm glad you're awake. I was just about to bid Missus Fennickken farewell, and I'd like to thank you as well for allowing me to share your space."

Francine was surprised. Not that Sister Lockwain was so mannerly. Just that she had considered it Francine's space. For all that she planned to stay here until her uncle turned up looking for her, she had always assumed herself a guest here. And even if her uncle was...gone...she had only lived with Missus Fennickken for four days. Not even four whole days; her and Mister Hildesman had turned up late in the afternoon that first day. She decided to explain as much to the Sister. "Of course, Sister. But I am still a guest here as much as you. Missus Fennickken has just taken me in until my family can be contacted. The space was no more mine than it was yours."

Missus Fennickken had an odd look on her face. Francine couldn't tell what it meant. The Sister's response distracted her before she could figure it out. "Nonsense, girl," Sister Lockwain said with a wink. "You're pulling your own weight, that makes you more than a guest. Maybe not a host, not yet. But never forget. You worked for your cot. All I did was press hospitality."

An odd sentiment, Francine thought. On the farmstead, everyone worked. There was always plenty of work to go around. Even merchants coming to caravan goods in and out tended their own animals and cleaned their own chamberpots. Perhaps in the city it was different. She didn't want to second-guess a Sister of the Order, though, so all she said was "I guess so, Sister."

"In any event, Missus Fennickken, Miss Francine, it was a pleasure spending an evening with you. I'll come back out myself if there's word, unless Mister Hildesman is available to carry it. Perhaps if he is I'll give him a lift in the skimmer, just to come see you both again." Sister Lockwain climbed into her skimmer at that point, and she began to lift the cumbersome vehicle into the air. Missus Fennickken and Francine both waved her off as she turned the lumbering machine back towards the city, and then set about their morning chores.

---

It was over breakfast that Missus Fennickken broke the silence to ask Francine if her Sponsor had spoken any more about champions.

"No'm," Francine answered. "She's been talking more, of course. But she hasn't explained anything about Champions, other than that she calls me hers still."

Missus Fennickken took another bite of her breakfast mash. "Anything else about Mister Hildesman?"

"No'm. She did seem interested in you, though. Or, well, in your wall. I guess that must mean I'm curious about the wall, too?"

Missus Fennickken set her spoon down in her bowl and fixed Francine with a steady gaze. Francine felt as though she were being pushed back into her seat, and realized it was just her leaning away from the sternness of the retired trapper. "What about the wall?" Missus Fennickken asked once Francine was sure she'd be in for a tongue lashing.

"It's...it's just so much shorter than the ones around the farm. I thought that all walls were made according to instructions from the Order, in order to keep the people safe from Tessenium poisoning?"

"Little risk of that for us, kid. Side effect of the Mark. Tessenium just runs right through us like a clean pipe. Nothing left behind except what charges our unique abilities."

"What about heretics? Bandits? Wolves?"

"Dealt with them before. I prefer the ease of use of the lower wall. If I can just hop over it, what worry have I about forgetting the keys to the gate or some nonsense when I go out?"

"So it has..." Francine swallowed, feeling as if she had a lump on her tongue. "It's not because the walls make you feel trapped?" Before Missus Fennickken could fix that scolding look on her again, she blurted out, "Only, the Listener...my Sponsor. She said that walls was like a prison, and that you could feel the difference. I've never felt that, so I'm wondering why I would think it."

When Francine looked up nervously, afraid she had upset her host, Missus Fennickken's jaw was agape. She saw Francine looking and snapped it closed. "Your Sponsor said that?" She managed quietly.

"Yes'm."

Missus Fennickken wiped one hand down her face, forehead to chin. Francine had seen Mister Hildesman do the same, and the similarities lodged in her mind like an amusing joke.

"I never explained that feeling to anyone," Missus Fennickken said after a long pause. "Not Aaron. Not Maggie. Not a single human person." She met Francine's gaze. "But my Sponsor. The one we call Patience. She knew. And what's more, she was the one who explained it to me, back when I retired."

"So...we both had the same thought?"

"Either that," Missus Fennickken said, rising and crossing to the side room where her little pallet lay. "Or we both had the same conversation. Miss Francine, please stay in the house until I come back out. It's time I tried something I always wished I had the courage to try."

"Missus Fennickken?" Francine asked. She had too many questions all at once to say each one.

"I'm going to try having a conversation." Missus Fennickken said, and then she closed the door.

Ooh, she's one for the poetic vagueness. The Listener chimed in, filling the quiet of the room with her cheerful voice. Patience is going to love her. Shame, though. I'm not sure if we'll be able to count her as an ally in the end. Patience was always slow to pick sides, but last time, she picked against the rest of us. I hope she has a change of heart. Keeping you alive in the wilderness was no easy trick, you know.