Slay the Princess and the Multiversal Language of Love

“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’re here to slay her. If you don’t, it will end the world.”

With a name like “Slay the Princess“, I expected a creepy but meta horror game about a fairy tale princess story, with all the campy fun that idea entails. Think something tropey like a “Scream” or  “Abigail” but in indie VN form. I did not expect to experience one of the best love stories in video game history. 

And it all takes place in those fated woods.

In countless stories, the dark woods have always been the foundation for twisting paths. A gloomy place where the threat of getting lost is just as dangerous as the foes lurking in the underbrush. Even some of the earliest video games, such as Zork, took place in dark forests to give the player a sense of constant unease. However, with these dangers came another boon: choice. Much like the gnarled branches of ancient trees, these paths lead outward, but ultimately stem from one source. Where a tree has branches, you have paths.

In each of these paths, the player can make even more choices, wherein they learn more about the Princess, the world, and in the rarest of times, themselves. One of the constants through all these is the Narrator, an eloquent yet harsh companion who dutifully describes the events as they happen. More than anything, he wants you to play your role: to slay the Princess. The other constant is the Princess herself. Unlike the unseen narrator, the Princess will take many forms throughout the story, and it all rests on your choices.

And you will die. A lot.

Stabbed, sliced, mauled, flayed, burned, drowned, bones broken, consumed by darkness, trapped in a nightmare, strung across the cosmos in a gory display, you will experience unimaginable pain. Yet you persevere, ready to meet the Princess in a new form each time. I’ve only talked about the violence so far, and while it’s core to Slay the Princess’ story, it’s simply an expression of its truest theme: love.

And as it turns out, love hurts. A lot.

Despite the cavalcade of killer monarchs you will face throughout the story, you always have the choice to love the vessel. Be it through seduction, submission, or sentimentality, the player can fight fate and save the Princess. Choosing to love the Princess, no matter what form they take, is core to the experience. It doesn’t matter if they’re a damsel in distress, a flayed goddess of flesh and sinew, a heart of wood, an indistinct mass of blades, a spectre scorned, or everyone all at once. Love will always be a choice the player can make.

The moments you choose love are when Slay the Princess truly shines.

The damsel in distress gains depth, becomes a melancholy lover unsure of their place in the world. The flayed goddess, literally and metaphorically, bares her heart out to the hero. In the deepest woods, the hero becomes one with nature itself, accepting her embrace. The mass of blades meets its match in more ways than one. The spectre, once seeking to possess, instead sees the heart you hide within you.  And every single one of them loves you.

Of course, when I said “choose love”, it’s a bit of a misnomer. In truth, you, the hero, cannot help but love the Princess. If you didn’t love her, the “choice” to love her would never appear. And that road goes two ways. Because despite being a game called “Slay the Princess”, it’s surprisingly hard to find a route where the Princess never loves you back. 

Even at her most bitter and egotistical, she wants you by her side, with an obsessive fervor. And the same is true of you. Even when you choose to repress that love, say the harshest words, or perform the vilest acts, your very thoughts betray you. A part of you will always love the Princess, and pushed too hard, it may even scorn you for spurning that love. 

Universes shift, worlds end, and you still can’t stop that feeling. The only thing you can truly choose is what you do with that feeling. And it’s a choice that everybody who’s fallen in love has to face. For some, that love is much harder to act on. For me, Slay the Princess perfectly captures the messy yet blissful feelings of love I’ve had as a queer person.

In my youth, I’ve felt love for someone, a love that I had to repress, because the consequences scared me. My religion told me that to act upon that love would bring damnation upon me. That it was love like mine that could bring about the end of the world. When I finally did choose that love, the world did end. Specifically, the world I knew. Floating in the cosmic debris of this revelation, I soon found a new, more dazzling universe. One I could shape side by side with the ones I love.

Is it dangerous? 

Maybe. 

Is it terrifying? 

So much. 

Is it worth it?

As I sit here typing this out and probably projecting my queer trauma onto this indie game, I asked myself that. To experience love in all of its forms, the happiness, the chaos, the tragedy, the victories, all of it. I may not have to deal with vengeful wraiths and demonic monarchs, but I deal with the consequences of love just the same. I deal with it everyday, in a country where queer people are celebrated one day and condemned the next. 

Then I stop thinking about all that grandiosity. I scale down, I focus on the people close to me. The people I’ve loved, be it platonically or romantically. I think of how much they’ve supported me, even in the toughest times.  They may not be pretty every day. They might be vengeful at times, even harsh. But these are just perspectives. People are more than their worst day. And even in those times, I knew that love was still there, tangible and real.

Is it worth it?

Absolutely.