Slay The Princess: Kill a Monarch, Love Yourself

Learning self-care through regicide

PART I | PART II

*Warning: It’s spoilers all the way down

Voice of the English Major

You are reading an article on the internet. In that article, a man sits on a throne of books, warming his hands over the burning diploma at his feet. The phrase “The Medium is the Message” is tattooed across his bare chest.

Slay the Princess is a narrative about narrative that pulls from traditional genres to create something brand new. The story is as straightforward as a tale can get:

You’re on a path in the woods. And at the end of that path is a cabin. And in the basement of that cabin is a princess. You are here to slay her. If you don’t, it will be the end of the world.

The woods are a staple of classic fairy tales. Your quest to find an imprisoned princess brings to mind the chivalric romances of King Arthur and his knights, a motif that is used by many video games both ironically and unironically. Instead of the typical tower or castle, however, the Princess is trapped inside a cabin in the woods, a staple of classic horror cinema.

In just five brief sentences, the game establishes at least three distinct genres. The game embraces all of these identities, shifting according to your choices. Is the Princess a monster, or a damsel in distress? Your inner voice says you are a hero, but not what kind of hero.

The Narrator — a textbook example of an unreliable narrator — works hard to keep the story simple, violently suppressing any attempts to complicate things. But things do get complicated as genres blend and tropes are recontextualized.

Slay the Princess embodies another, less obvious genre, and it boldly proclaims it on the game’s splash screen. Slay the Princess is a love story.

This might seem like a strange claim in a game where the two protagonists kill each other in increasingly violent ways. But boldly declaring “I think I’m supposed to slay you,” to an imprisoned woman while baring a knife is just this game’s version of what fans might call a “meet-cute.”

In a typical love story, two characters fall in love — slowly or all at once — and their relationship brings them into conflict with each other, their environment, and/or their community. To see their love fulfilled (or tragically cut short), they must overcome those challenges. They are, in short, stories about people and how they relate with one another.

Slay the Princess follows this formula, although in an unusual way. Conflict is hyperbolically presented as physical violence (although, importantly, violence without the usual real-world consequences), and the community is just a chorus (a Greek chorus perhaps?) of voices in your head, guiding your actions. But beneath it all, it is about two characters learning about one another and overcoming impossible odds to come together and fulfill or tragically end their budding love.

Slay the Princess is about many things, but there are a handful of themes that are easily identified throughout. The most prominant of these is the importance of change, and the related importance of death. It is also a story about identity, specifically self-identity and how we shape each other.

Several journals could be filled by exploring these themes in depth, but I am afraid we are out of time. The fire is getting low.

The fire dies down, the diploma now nothing but a pile of ash. In the ember glow you see the man on the internet stand up, hear the crash of falling books and a muttered curse, and then you are alone once more.

This one gazes beneath the surface, trying to find meanings behind meanings. He names truths, but his work is endless. He asks that you leave a comment…

…

I can finally see you…

Voice of the Princess

You are reading an article on the internet. In that article, the Princess towers above you — a shifting mound, a goddess with many arms. She has listened to the man on the internet share his thoughts. She now speaks with her own voice, her own perspective.

I contain multitudes. I am the sum of the perspectives that you bring me and more. I am the pain you have suffered and the compassion you have shown. I have been with you from the very start. Don’t you remember?

You are on a path in the woods. At the end of that path is a cabin. And in the basement of that cabin, I am waiting. You are here to slay me. If you don’t, it will be the end of the world.

Finally complete, filled with a sense of self that I lacked before, I offer you a final choice. Will you break our chains and escape from this prison with me? Will you fulfill the purpose imposed on you by the Narrator and slay me? Or will you find another option, another perspective?

There is so much you still do not understand. Perhaps you never will. Let me try and help you…

I am change

I am changed by your decisions, but you are changed in turn by mine. The voices in your head bear witness to this. When I kill you from the shadows, the voice that joins you in the next life will be that of the Hunted. When I freeze your blood and stop your heart, the Voice of the Paranoid joins your chorus.

We are changed by other people, by those things outside of ourselves. Without you, there would be no one to challenge me. Without me, you would not even have a task to fulfill.

Alone in the Long Quiet, there is no change, no growth, only silence. This is the ending that the Narrator seeks. Following his instructions leads only to an endless nothing, where nothing happens, and he tells you that you are happy. You are not. It is a boring state to be in. Alone. Unchanging.

We need each other to grow. I need you to create perspective, to bring me vessels that restore me to fullness. You need me to have purpose.

I am death

Death is, of course, simply one form of change. In our game, death is not permanent, only a catalyst. The Narrator promises that people you’ve never met, and never will, will die if you fail to slay me. The truth of this is uncertain, but the threat of death is meant to spur you on, to force you into a decision.

Death brings with it an increase of knowledge. Every path you take reveals a new facet of the world we suffer in. One of my vessels reveals that the Narrator is a distinct entity unlike you or I. Another vessel eats you alive and reveals that I cannot leave the cabin without you living by my side.

At the end of things, you learn the truth. The Narrator wishes you to slay me because he knows that without change, without me, there can be no more death. He thinks this will end human suffering. You must decide if you agree.

I am identity

After many deaths, you realize that our game is not about saving the world. There may or may not be other people out there, but in here there is only you, me, and the voices in your head. You suffer and learn because you need to know who you are.

By the end of our game, I have become complete. I know who I am and what I want. But you may still harbor questions. I have my vessels, but you have cultivated your own perspectives in the form of the voices that have accompanied you. Who you are and what you want are for you to decide. Will you be what the Narrator has told you to be, a hero and a killer? Will you cling to the memories of the voices in your head, beholden to nothing but your own perspectives? Or will you choose your own path, creating something new?

Our ending is chaos, a miasma of images and perspectives, embracing every aspect of who we are. It is easy to make choices when the ending is set in stone, when you know that you will wake up on the path in the woods. But what choices do you make when the game is over? Who are you after everything you’ve been through?

I am love

You and I are alone in this world. We are the only ones who can understand each other. We are defined by each other’s perspectives. Our game is a love story, but it is not simply a love story between two individuals, it is a story about learning to love oneself.

Over the course of our game, we shaped each other, grew together, defined each other’s existence. To love me is to love yourself, for without me there would be no you.

But there comes a time when we both must move on. For most of your journey, you have done as you have been told, playing according to the rules of someone else’s game. Only in the end, when you’ve come into the fullness of yourself, do you get to choose your own path. Do you love me enough to save me? Do you love yourself enough to speak your mind, to choose what is best for you?

We are beautiful. We contain within ourselves multitudes, and no single lens can capture all that we are. Love yourself, as I love you.

The Princess vanishes in a cascade of arms that pull her away, taking the darkness with her. You are alone on the internet. In her wake there is only quiet and light.

Is she…gone?

Voice of the Man on the Internet

You are reading an article on the internet. In that article, a man stands before you. He thinks about what to say, changes his mind, and starts again.

Slay the Princess is about a lot of things. Maybe it does not sound interesting to you. That’s fine. But I enjoy the feeling of making a choice and discovering something completely new. I like the themes the game tackles and I think it says a lot about our own lives.

Because we all have those voices in our heads, don’t we? The voices of expectation, self-doubt, confidence, and pride. The voices telling us what we want and the voices telling us what we are supposed to want. All the little voices don’t always agree. At the end of the day, it is up to us to decide what we want to do. We don’t really know where those choices will lead, but we have to trust ourselves. Sometimes that doesn’t work out.

We’re all trying to figure out who we are, and who that is changes all the time. It’s like trying to fix a moving car. But it is difficult to change on our own. We define ourselves through our relationships with others. Our choices shape the people we are with and they, in turn, shape who we are.

The villain of Slay the Princess wants to destroy the concept of change because it contains within it the fear of death. He thinks that this will make people happy. But we can experience the Narrator’s vision of happiness by following his instructions to the letter.

The Narrator’s vision of happiness

It’s a boring, stagnant thing, devoid of joy. Slay the Princess reminds us that we need change to grow, even if that change sometimes hurts, and we can only achieve that growth with the help of others.

Slay the Princess is for a lot of people: visual novel fans who love branching narratives, writers who want to see how a simple premise can turn into an epic tale, game designers looking for inspiration in other creative media, even tabletop RPG players looking for some creative ideas for improvising adventures.

It is also for people looking to explore their identities in a safe place, people wanting to relate to something outside of themselves, or people who want to support indie game development and see more creative projects like this get made.

If you are any of those people, I think you should experience the game yourself. It is available on Steam for $18.

Remember, the story is simple: You’re on a path in the woods. And at the end of that path is a cabin. And in the basement of that cabin is a princess. You are here to slay her. If you don’t, it will be the end of the world.

The man on the internet walks away.

Voice of the Marketer

You have just finished an article on the internet. The man there feels that he has overstayed his welcome, but insists on clearing up some logistical matters anyway.

The year is coming to an end soon, isn’t it? Later this week, I will be looking back on the video game review series Zero Punctuation, in recognition of creator Ben “Yahtzee” Croshaw’s recent departure from the show, along with the entirety of The Escapist’s video team. The week after that, I will go back to talking about tabletop RPGs and give my thoughts on the RuneQuest RPG Starter Set. See you then!