Prelude is exactly that, a short introductory piece to a larger work of broader scope. The fact that that larger work is as yet unavailable is quietly tragic. Short is the active term here, as the game lasts no longer than 10 minutes, in fact writing this review took longer. The story is simple and charming; a young girl on the cusp of adolescence goes on a camping trip with her father, taking along her avian companion. Ostensibly the point of the trip is to reach high ground where they can look at the stars together.

There is no opening to the game, and by that I mean not just any introductory cut scene or historical monologue. There is no opening at all, not even a title screen. But then since you have no menu access during the game it's not like you could save and continue either. You simply appear on screen in a wooded clearing, next to a tent with a campfire blazing away merrily behind you. Oddly for all the bucolic sounds of the forest around you and the crackle of the campfire there is something almost disconcerting about the straight eyed stare of the protagonist.


I didn't do it, whatever it was.

The graphics in this game are all custom, and once again are charming. They are simple but evocative and capture the overall feel of the game, which is one of disquietude, a façade of tranquillity that is steadily peeled away. This manifests itself in the journey our unnamed protagonist makes. Finding herself alone in the campsite apart from her little green bird Kiwi, she sets out to find out where her father has gone.

There are no battles in the game, no conflicts with roaming forest creatures or denizens of the cave into which our girl in the yellow mackintosh wanders, but such outward threats are not necessary when all of the suspense and discomfort is carried via the simple messages displayed with stark black and white clarity. They are strikingly childlike in their directness, simple facts rendered without adornment and beautiful in their elegance. This is, unfortunately what makes the very rare grammatical errors so irritating.

There are four maps in total in the game, the original campsite, a chuckling meandering river, the cave and the cliff where the final scene plays out, but it doesn't need any more than that. Yes there are plenty of questions left once the screen pans to the stars, foremost of which is just what has happened to her absent father, but though you are left with your feet balanced on the edge of a precipice with the unknown stretching out before you, you don't feel as if you have wasted your time. This is a tantalising morsel of what is hopefully to come, but the taste is a satisfying one. There is something to be said for the power of restraint, and the developer has exercised that admirably.

I look forward to the next movement in this piece.