Slay, Leave, Save, Repeat?

This is a piece on the subject of repetitive compulsion and the importance of memory when trying to work through trauma. It is based on a university paper of mine, which had focused on the Frankenstein narrative and one of its many adaptations. There, I spoke about the inherent impossibility for both creator and creation to move past their trauma, which had been originally rooted in their inherent familial connection.

As I was playing Slay the Princess, I've started to see similarities, which I wished to explore a bit further. Slay the Princess presents a narrative where the two characters are unfamiliar and disconnected at first, but due to circumstances outside their reach, they find themselves in a situation that connects, traumatises, and ties them together all at once.

“Whatever horrors you may find in these dark spaces, have heart and see them through. There are no premature endings. There are no wrong decisions. There are only fresh perspectives and new beginnings. This is a love story.” 

Before the game even starts, it presents its main thesis, that the routes one undertakes does not matter and that even through the worst, this is still a story that could be considered focusing on shared companionship. When the game actually begins, one is shown its first title card: “Chapter I: The Hero and the Princess”.  This title card implies that this is structured like a book, a story being told, and while the meeting between a hero and the princess would often happen at the end of the story, it is still able to evoke the feeling of a book fairy tale. There is even a narrator! However, the story immediately derails away from our fairy tale love story, when the player learns that the title had not been an exaggeration: The player is supposed to slay the princess. 

At this point, one can decide if they actually follow the path and story that the narrator has outlined for our implied “Hero” character, or if they will try to find another way. However, it becomes evident that this isn’t just a conversation between the player and the narrator. The game introduces “The voice of the Hero”, who has his own thoughts and feelings about the Narrator’s clear goal of slaying the princess and the players choices throughout the game. While it is as of now unclear where the narrator’s voice is coming from, the Hero and the Player certainly share one body, which for convenience’s sake I will refer to as ‘Birdy’. This is based on a few lines and hints that the body actually possesses feathers, claws, and potentially a beak?

Now, Birdy can potentially make their way to the cabin, where the princess is trapped within. There the player is given a certain amount of choice about how they will confront the princess - and the game did not lie when it spoke about ‘finding new perspectives’, since perception is one of the strongest tools that Slay the Princess has to offer. While at the cabin, the player has the following options: try to slay the princess, try to leave her in the basement, or try to free her. No matter the player’s choices, Chapter I will always end with at least one death; and except for the ‘Good End’ that death will always be Birdy’s. 

However, this is not the end of the story. Instead, the story moves onwards and on to Chapter II. This is where the first bouts of repetition become immediately evident. Birdy is once again greeted by the voice of the narrator, who tells them that they are on a path in the woods and that they are supposed to slay the princess that is trapped within the cabin. 

The player is given the choice to comment on the repetition, potentially even tell the narrator off for the way that Chapter I had originally ended, though, it seems like the narrator is not able to actually remember what had happened in the past. Meanwhile, the hero does remember these events, but believes it to be the better choice to leave the narrator in the dark: “If He doesn’t remember what happened, then maybe it’s best to keep it that way.” At this point, another voice will join the conversation. Moreover, that voice usually disregards the hero’s attempt to disregard the past events in favour of making their opinions known to everyone. 

Chapter II: The Damsel ||
Voice of the Smitten: Yes, he didn’t approve of us last time, did He? If we’re going to save our beloved, we’ll have to be sneaky about it.
Voice of the Hero: Our… beloved?
Narrator: Yes, you’ll have to be very sneaky about your intentions if you’re going to try and save the Princess.
[...]

Chapter II: The Razor ||
Voice of the Cheated: This whole thing’s a crock of shit. She’s just going to pull a knife out of nowhere and stab us again.
Narrator: Stabbed to death? Well, you won’t have to worry about that. The Princess is unarmed.
Voice of the Cheated: Yeah, that’s exactly what you told us last time. You said this whole thing would be easy, but after we sank our blade into her heart she just got up and started stabbing us.  
[...]

Chapter II: The Prisoner ||
Voice of the Skeptic: Don’t forget what He did to us the last time around. I wouldn’t trust a word out of his mouth. There’s got to be a way out of here, for us and for the Princess. We just have to keep trying. 
[…]

Thus, it becomes evident that the appearance of the voice is a direct response to the previous events, those events being the moments before and including Birdy’s death. Previously, it was established that the word trauma originated from Greek, where it had been understood as a literal ‘wound’(Carruth 3). While not necessarily lethal, this wound would often leave a scar (Paul Valent in Figley). However, traumatology today uses this terminology for both physical and psychological wounds or as it is “understood as a wound inflicted […] upon the mind” (Carruth 3).

In the case of Birdy, if one disregarded the potential psychological wounds, one could argue that there was no trauma after death. At the point of chapter II, Birdy does not have any open wounds as a result of the events in the previous chapter. However, due to their memory of the event, as proven by the hero’s statement as well as the appearance of another voice as a result of those previous events, it can be argued that these additional voices are evidence of their trauma. While no physical wound is present, they are still able to remember the actual instance where they’ve been originally wounded. Meanwhile, the narrator adamantly refuses to believe that any of this had already happened before, and urges the player to disregard the other voices in favour of actually moving toward the cabin and slaying the princess. 

While I placed the focus on the changes that happened to Birdy, there are other changes present in this new chapter. The woods might look different, the cabin certainly looks different, and so does the staircase to the basement; They all reflect and respond to what had been seen in the past: Birdy slayed her originally? The cabin is a ruin, a dead body ready to greet them in the basement. Birdy died while trying to save her? The cabin reflects a classic fairy tale castle, where the princess is still awaiting her saviour. Birdy was brutally murdered, as they had given up their will to fight? The cabin towers over them, and so will the princess once they try to confront her.

When talking about the consequences of having experienced a traumatic event, experts suggest that this event should be considered a “disruption in the core self” (Boulanger 45). This is then taken further, where it is argued that experiencing trauma is a violation that “alter[s] the framework we use for interacting with the world” and, thus, the “view of the world, and [the] perceptions of others change […]” (Phillips and Kane 10).

In the case of Slay the Princess, this process, this alteration, seems not just restricted to Birdy, but also the world itself. However, the questions that remain at this point are: Is the alteration of the world simply Birdy’s doing, or is this also coming from the Princess? Is she aware of what had happened before, thus, has she potentially also been traumatised by these events?

Maybe? Yes, and probably. The Princess remembers, and unlike Birdy, her body does not remain unchanged either. Whatever has happened in the previous chapter did not only cause a change in the world itself, but also caused a change in the physical appearance of the princess. It seems that the only character untouched by any of these changes is the narrator, which implies his detached nature from the situation as well as from the world that Birdy and the Princess reside in.

Chapter II leads to an inevitable second confrontation between them, which can lead to another traumatic event – another death, another inflicted wound – and the cycle will begin once more. Chapter III has the world and its inhabitants further distorted. The path is barely recognisable any more, there are more voices present, but confined within Birdy’s body. The Princess too has changed again and adapted her behaviour accordingly. Though, the narrator still repeats his script as he knows it. There are more chapters available, events might not resemble their original form, but the continuous repetition of its base loop leading up to a confrontation with whatever the Princess now embodies remains true. One route takes this concept so far that the player has been unable to actually ‘remember’ their endless experiences, and even the other voices struggle to sort through their experience:

Narrator: You’re on a path in the-

The voice of the Paranoid: Shit! Shit! What- what the hell was that?! Who are we? What are we doing?

The voice of the Broken: There was a Princess, I think. It’s all so fuzzy. It hurts when I try to remember.

The voice of the Hero: I think we were trying to save the world.

The Narrator: You shouldn’t know about the Princess. At least not until I… You’ve already been here, haven’t you?
[…]
The voice of the Cheated: Why are there so many of us? There aren’t supposed to be so many of us.

Narrator: This is bad. You need to get a grip. What did you let happen? How many times have you been here?
[…]
Voice of the Skeptic: Many many many many times.

The voice of the Paranoid: It feels like we’ve been here forever, but it also feels like we’ve barely been here at all.

The voice of the Broken: It doesn’t matter

The voice of the Opportunist: Yes. We just do what she says. And then everything will be fine.
[…]

The presence of so many voices, the disjointed nature of the woods by that point, as well as the form of the Princess in these routes are all further indication of how much of a toll this experience had taken on Birdy. The route ends with them looking into an abyss – and the Princess looking back.

The cycle ends in conflict resolution, or at least its promise. Birdy and the Princess leaving the cabin together, or alternatively accept the other's violence and remain entrapped together. Even in these more violent cases, there is a rapport that has been built up between these characters, an understanding and acceptance for pain. In these moments, everything else but the other fades away, and it is just them; Not even the narrator is able to reach them in that state.
The main issue is that there, this moment of potential conflict resolution, is always being interrupted. A being outside the scope of Birdy’s awareness removes the Princess, and they are left alone in an empty world, which only has a mirror for company. Whichever voices currently are part of Birdy wish to ignore the mirror, but the player character will not do so. The following interactions, after looking into the mirror, are only privy to the player and the Shifting Mound (Shifty), who was the entity that had taken the Princess away before. At this point the player learns about Shifty’s wish – to find more perspectives, to have the player shape and reshape these events and to change the Princess so that a new perspective could be added to them and so that they could leave this place together.

Shifty: Something finds me in the Long Quiet and brings me the gift of a fragile vessel.
Player: What happens now?
Shifty: […] There is no exist, but this vessel is a creature of perception, she can make you forget, if only you believe her to be able to. Bring me more perspectives, so that I may be whole, and perhaps then we will know our freedom.
Player: How much will I forget?
Shifty: Everything, until we meet again.

After this point the player can either ask further questions, or start their journey anew, through death and forgetting. Shifty’s final words are about the wishes coming from the vessel that she had taken before: “She asks that I tell you to remember her. [pause] You won’t.” There is a shattering of glass, “everything goes dark, and [Birdy] die[s]”.

Birdy is once again experiencing Chapter I. The initial version of it. The hero does not remember, and the player is not given the chance to mention any of it. Admittedly, this is a moment of ludo-narrative dissonance, as the Player is now aware of the events, even if their voice – these dialogue choices that we are offered – refuse any mention of this knowledge to seep through. “Memory returns” only to us after a new ‘perspective’ has been taken by Shifty and Birdy had once again found themselves in front of the mirror located in the Long Quiet. This means that at that point in time, once again at the beginning of Chapter I, there is no memory or wound of their past trauma present. It has been destroyed and removed, as to ensure that they are unable to find a resolution. Instead, they are once again forced to endure this cycle. Repetition compulsion is often argued to be a subconscious element, wherein the person is unable to recollect the traumatic events but still finds themselves repeating them (Freud 13). Funnily enough, in this instance it could imply that the Player is the closest Birdy gets to a subconscious acting on memories that they cannot recall; A repetition based on knowledge that Birdy should not possess…

Overall, this return to the beginning is a cause for stagnation for both Birdy and Princess. While Shifty might be able to grow, they only do so due to their disregard and detached experience to the trauma that either character, Birdy or the Princess, had experienced while in the woods. Shifty disregards the potential of reconciliation, or resolution, and offers instead something old and new.

This is why the different endings of the game were so fascinating. If we follow through with Shifty’s plan, Birdy will learn the truth of their own existence. As it turns out, the Long Quiet and the Shifting Mound were once one ‘godlike’ entity created by another, then split into two, forced into their roles: One was created to destroy the other. Shifty’s preferred ending is one where they choose to disregard the cost in favour of what it brought them. These perspectives, that trauma, were needed to reach this point, and now they would be able to break free. The Player can agree, and they both will reach their ‘full’ power and break the world that they had been entrapped in together. In their final moments on screen, they are given the following note: “Though conflict is in your nature, the two of you will never know fear. You and She are finally home.”

This ending disregards notions of forgiveness, since there was nothing to forgive. The end justified the means and were something insignificant for this greater cause. It left me dissatisfied. The lack of reconciliation or any attempt at understanding, which every other ‘vessel’ had previously tried to achieve, had been discarded. Shifty might mention that they are the sum of all these perspectives, but they felt less real than the deconstructed damsel. Their connection to this entity, to the Long Quiet had nothing to do with Birdy, our experiences to them did not matter.

If, instead, the player decides to fight Shifty; Then she will use the perspectives that had been brought to her advantage. She brings up their ‘shared’ trauma and tells them to let that go and ignore it, remove it from themselves.

Shifty: Violence and passion are dances that both of us know well. If this is what it takes to enlighten you, then so be it. […]

This approach uses their unresolved trauma against Birdy, it throws into their face the violence and pain that they had suffered – which had brought them nothing, if they refuse to take Shifty’s side. Moreover, the fact that they still suffer from their trauma should be inconceivable, since it should have never been this traumatic to begin with. According to Shifty, they are meant to be greater than Birdy and the Princess, and refusing to see such is disappointing and frustrating. It also provides a potential explanation why the other voices had never been able to reach past the mirror, Shifty – the perceived entity of change and death (according to the narrator) is themselves stagnant and refuses to accept that these events would have been changing their partner.

No matter which vessel Birdy brought to Shifty, their dialogue remains the same, unless when asked about the vessel itself. Shifty, did not change. Shifty, did not understand the trauma and connections that were formed between the Princess and Birdy. This is why they refused to ever let the other voices into their secret.

Refusing to yield to Shifty’s demands, the player will be joined by the voice of the Hero once again. He is the one who can take them back to “where it all began”. The player can follow him and Birdy will arrive at the heart of the mound, the cabin once again. This time, they remember. This time, the narrator is gone. It’s just the hero and the player, who can make their way down the basement stairs. (Though, one might find the contrarian at the cabin as well, but this only happens if the first Princess that Birdy had ever met and ‘brought’ to shifty had been the Stranger.)

In this cabin, at the heart, Birdy and the Princess are finally able to talk. Both of them, aware, that this is their final confrontation. While a chat is always nice, there still aren’t many choices. Birdy can slay the Princess, she will admit that she still loved them, but will die. Birdy will remain within this broken emptiness – a reflection and repetition of the Good End, though, this time with Birdy being aware of their powers and being. Simply trapped, with the rest of them, which can be rather miffed at the player if they had been previously dismissive during the final mirror sequences.

Alternatively, Birdy and the Princess can talk about their situation, which is when she reveals that she could probably reset it all, as long as the Player believes in her ability to do so.

Princess: “[…] Make me fix whatever this place is and make me wipe our memories of everything that’s happened. Make me send us back to the beginning, before we woke up. Before either of us saw the truth.”

The player can aptly state that “If we’re talking about this right now, how do we know we haven’t done this before?”. Here Birdy takes into consideration the way things had progressed before, and it becomes evident that there is a high chance that they've undergone this cycle of trauma and abuse again and again – stagnant – and unable to move on, but refusing to let their memories be ‘disregarded’ by Shifty. Birdy can also say that they wish to keep their memories, but the Princess deflects, stating that it is a sweet thought, but since Birdy wishes to save the world – that would be the cause. It’s clear that the world doesn’t matter to the Princess, but she cares about Birdy. Thus, she offers this compromise – a variant where they would not have to destroy the world, but also would not have to truly kill her. That this cycle of abuse would just be them living and experiencing all that the other can offer, which would once again include pain and suffering. This eternity would be upheld since they would find themselves in this position once again, where they would make the same choice. However, the thought of being in this place together is enough for Birdy and the Princess, and they can choose to enact this plan. This choice is a compromise, but they are unable to move on, instead they push themselves back to the start, once again. The title card “Chapter I: The Hero and The Princess” appears and Birdy is greeted once again by the narrator before the game actually ends.

Another ending can be achieved, if the player decides to visit the Princess without a weapon. She is glad to know that Birdy doesn’t want to kill her anymore, but is unsure how to proceed. The player can tell her that they could “just leave”. The Princess doesn’t know what else there is besides the cabin, but Birdy can tell her that the outside doesn’t matter, that it only matters that they get to leave together. To leave this behind and move on, changed by their experiences and shaped by their trauma – but ready to reconcile and make their own life in their limited world. After this decision, the voice of the hero decides to remain in the cabin and to find the others – to give Birdy and the Princess space. This then can be read as the resolution of trauma, in a more physical sense – it’s a form of healing. These parts are left behind, but not forgotten. They’re there and were important for Birdy’s journey, but they are allowed to rest. They’re allowed to move on. Unlike with Shifty, this Princess never asks of you to disregard them or pushes them away. Unlike Shifty, she doesn’t know what there is outside, nor how they will get along – but she is excited to find out. In this ending, Birdy and the Princess leave the Cabin, leave this repetitive cycle of abuse, and they’re ready to face the unknown… together.

Those were just some thoughts I had about the game, its gameplay mechanics, and its endings after having done some research for my previous Frankenstein-narrative analysis. Feel free to let me know your thoughts in the comments.

Slay the Princess is a fascinating game. The way its repetitions are one of the more important aspects of its main narrative had me hooked immediately and its complicated relationship between Birdy and the Princess, was interesting to behold. Since I’ve played it, the game had received a few updates and the Pristine Cut is currently in production, which means that there will be more to explore in the future, and I am excited.

Lastly, for those unaware - Sherigan and I did talk about this game too, over at PourOverThink. There we focused more on our overall thoughts of the game and our personal experiences.

Fell free to check out Black Tabby Games and their other works as well:

Black Tabby Games

Black Tabby Games

References:
Primary text:
Slay the Princess. PC/Steam, Black Tabby Games, 2023.

Secondary text:
Boulanger, Ghislaine. Wounded by Reality Understanding and Treating Adult Onset Trauma. Routledge, 2014.

Carruth, Cathy. Unlcaimed Experience: Trauma, Narrative, and History. John Hopkins University Press: London, 1996.

Figley, Charles R. Encyclopedia of Trauma: An Interdisciplinary Guide. SAGE, 2012.

Freud, Sigmuns. Beyond the Pleasure Principle. edited by Ernest Jones. International Psychoanalytical Press: London. PDF File.

Phillips, Suzanne B., and Dianne Kane. Healing Together: A Couple’s Guide to Coping with Trauma and Post-Traumatic Stress. New Harbinger, 2009.