Death. Rats. And familial love… ‘A Plague Tale: Requiem’ examined
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A Plague Tale: Requiem is glorious: bigger, better, and heart-wrenchingly beautiful
A Plague Tale: Requiem is the second instalment in the A Plague Tale franchise and returns with its cast of the young De Rune siblings, Amicia and Hugo, their alchemist mother, and a friend they made along the way in A Plague Tale: Innocence, the young alchemist apprentice, Lucas. Although Requiem manages to be a glorious finale to the adventure of Amicia and Hugo, it is their incredible familial bond which strengthens throughout the game’s near seventeen-hour run and indelibly marks itself onto the player’s heart and mind.
For a while, things seem better. The children despite having lost their father and estate to the Inquisition (and the rats), rebuild some semblance of a happy life after rescuing their mother from Vitalis Benevente, the Grand Inquisitor, and the prime antagonist of the previous instalment, A Plague Tale: Innocence. The family attempts to start fresh, and in a new city. However, things take a turn for the worst when the siblings during a playful match trespass onto a murderous family’s property and watching Amicia getting attacked and utterly defenseless, Hugo’s anger to protect her reignites and strengthens his connection with the rats.
The plague is back. And this time round, it is as relentless and ravaging as the one that nearly destroyed Europe during the reign of Emperor Justinian. But Hugo’s purpose in the story is simply one of motive. Motive to propel and establish the undying spirit of his elder sister Amicia, whose maternal resolve to protect Hugo empowers her to exceed in mental fortitude against enemies bigger and older than her, and make up for what she lacks in physical strength.
A key element of Requiem’s storytelling is how the decline in Amicia’s outer grandeur and sumptuousness is inextricably intertwined with her pride in the de Rune name. Amicia gradually withdraws from her childlike naivete as the game progresses, and as she steadily assumes an air of a battle-hardened banshee. She is more insulated and attuned to the darker aspects of her nature as she treads with young Hugo hand in hand to the distant island of which he dreams, hoping for a cure. Along the journey, she gets hit on the head; has one half of her head shaved to clean the wound; has her braid cut off during an encounter with a ruthless Count; and is seen sporting a buzz-cut at the epilogue.
Perhaps deliberately, Amicia is portrayed far more womanly in Requiem than her design in the earlier instalment, as she takes on the role of both sister and mother to Hugo, accompanying him on his quest to find the healing waters to (hopefully) combat his affliction. She is the unmatched star of this game, but she does not emerge shining bright at the end. It is perhaps the beauty of how her character is written, that despite her assumption of a quasi-mother figure, she makes rash decisions in fits of passion to escape her plight, dragging Hugo through despairing situations, and thus reflecting her fragmented inner child. Instead of ignoring Hugo’s ‘whimsical’ dreams of an ‘Island with healing waters’, she entertains it and takes him with her to that island, where no water heals Hugo and he forfeits some hope right there. As they trek deeper into the island’s recesses, they learn about occult practices the inhabitants partake in: praying to bring forth the ‘Child of Embers’, an erstwhile carrier of the Macula, who had been the harbinger of the Plague of Justinian. The Prima Macula is the ailment ravaging Hugo. The siblings follow the trail and enter the chambers of the previous Carrier and Protector, Basilius and Aelia who are mirror images of the current Hugo and Amicia.
Neither Basilius, nor Aelia see a happy end. Basilius is isolated from Aelia, shackled within the deep confines of the island, whereas Aelia despite managing to fight her way through the island’s defenses succumbs to her injuries before she finds Basilius. And the young boy, alone and in despair gives himself up to the Macula unleashing an uncontrollable horde of rats upon the world. They do not exist as mere tools to further the plot, they project the dangers of what could transpire, should Amicia fail her mission. But it is a mission Amicia herself refuses to accept.
Sadly, the tale of Basilius and Aaelia only disheartens Hugo further who understands that he might die, and repeatedly tells Amicia that his life need not be that important. Amicia takes pride in her family name, and understands that Hugo is more than just her brother. He is the true legacy to the de Rune name to protect whom their father sacrificed himself. And a death too important for Amicia to let go in vain. Subconsciously, she fights to continue her father’s legacy, but she also fights tirelessly and ceaselessly to not be alone. It is a beautiful reflection of a young woman’s vulnerability, never explicitly stated in words.
The series does end on a powerful note: the transformation of Amicia via the rite of passage being the death of her brother. The de Rune coat of arms depicts a tree with its branches splayed over the sun and its roots over the moon. The first instalment starts with Amicia playfully slinging rocks at the apples on the tree that her father planted as a memento of her birth, a game designed to knight anyone who manages to knock down a select number of apples to a count of ten. The series ends with Hugo practically embodying that coat of arms; the many-branched tree enshrouding entirely the sun and the moon. A culmination of all of Amicia’s fears. And just before the credits roll, she casts the final rock that takes Hugo down.
Any number of interpretations could be derived from this final act in a brilliant piece of storytelling. Amicia, the young daughter of a nobleman is faced with a terrible choice: to watch the male heir of her family bring forth the end of the world OR take him down bringing an inevitable end to both the destruction of the world, and her father’s legacy. The child himself does not allow Amicia many options though. In a fateful walk to his own death, he makes her realize that whatever purpose she seeks and is fighting for, is not worth the more noble goal she’s actively evading: saving all of mankind. The brother here helps her see that in bringing an end to the physical state of her family’s legacy, she is, in effect, replenishing it by instilling humanity with renewed hope and life.
It is a sacrifice indeed. For both the brother and the sister. But an even bigger one on Amicia’s end, whose love for Hugo is powerful enough to blind her to the consequences of his continued existence. The ending to their story is not a happy one but one that embellishes Amicia’s character with a knighthood she otherwise would not have achieved had her family name continued to be. He helped her become the warrior she sought to be since the beginning.
Killing off a character, and one we spent two games protecting, must have been a risky choice for the developers, but indeed quite rewarding insofar as storytelling is concerned.
