A knock on the door made me shudder. This was the tenth day of the siege, everyone was in despair, everything in disarray. I opened the door to let in a hooded man with a wooden box in his hands. ‘I’ll get straight to the point. Our esteemed leaders were slain in the last battle.’ His voice was strangely calm, nearly devoid of emotions. He looked me in the eyes, waiting for me to process this new information.

We never gave up hope, but this outcome felt inevitable still. It obviously meant we didn’t have much time left, but I doubt he came here just to inform me of their deaths. I looked back at him, full of the strangely fitting resolve of the condemned. ‘There are only two people here capable of turning the tide, and one of them is you. The other one is being taken care of as we speak, and we need you both.’

I only nodded. I doubt I had the right to refuse. Even if I did, we did not have much more time left to live, without a proper intervention in the course of events.‘You both have to assume their role. You know what that means, I presume?’ He gave me the box.

I nodded and carefully opened it. Her manacles were there, the chain, torn. It has seen centuries of use as a vessel for the leader’s memories. The moment I touch her possessions, the moment I fasten them on my hands… will be the moment I abandon my own memories nearly completely and assume hers. Attuning to someone’s possessions was in my blood, but I had never tried that before. Luckily, no knowledge was necessary, just the constant contact with the item. Although, without the proper training, the outcome after breaking the contact could be devastating. Unfortunately, we didn’t have the luxury of time for my education or safer testing.

‘I hate playing for time.’ I quickly took the manacles in my hands. A flood of emotions that weren’t mine left me shattered in an instant. I fell down onto my knees. Pain, loss, the urgency of the role, the inevitability of the cycle of memories, each memory of the previous contact with the item. Tears and heavy sobs broke free. Still having a bit of my own mind and memories left, I forced myself to put the manacles on and fastened them. 

I was helped back on my feet a little later, and by that time I already knew her backup plans that she hadn’t managed to carry out herself. Heading to her chambers, now mine, I caught a glimpse of the other. He had done the same thing I had. Now I knew him and the other him. Old me didn’t know much about the person, but to the leader, he was the lover. Strangely contradictory feelings rose inside, of a life and love that didn’t belong to me. The longer I had the manacles, the more I became her. The old me was slowly fading, having no right to protest. All of this was unimportant, irrelevant.

There was only one important objective remaining. We have to win.