Steam’s New Magical Archery Game Asks All The Right Questions

Ten years ago, the Dreamer was chosen to complete an essential ritual. Atop a lonely cliff, accompanied only by her mentor, she trains tirelessly, the sacred chalice beckoning far in the distance. When the time comes, she will fire a single shot at that impossible target and either grant the wishes of her entire village or ensure that they will remain forever out of reach.

Many Nights A Whisper begins before the ritual. In the days leading up to that fateful shot, you play as the Dreamer going about her sacred duties. By day, you practice by launching fireballs into a collection of stone bowls arrayed around your tiny mountaintop home, getting a feel for its aim and power. By night, you hear the wishes of your neighbors, deciding which ones will be granted if you succeed and which to toss away before the ritual begins. Developers Deconstructeam and Selkie Harbour estimate 50 to 75 minutes to complete the game, but you could easily finish it in even less time by skipping practice sessions. Or, spend as long as you want flinging fireballs to perfect your technique.

In some ways, I envy the Dreamer. For the past decade, she’s had one goal to dedicate herself to, and when the time comes, she’ll know immediately whether she’s succeeded or failed. If she’s successful, her work will benefit her entire village, and possibly the world. My life, by comparison, is a tangle of distractions and uncertainties. Even as I write this piece, I flick back and forth to an open email tab to check for anything urgent and watch my cats doze to try to center my thoughts. I don’t know what it would even look like for my work to “succeed” nor would it help anyone else if it did. I have no profound goal to work toward this week, let alone 10 years from now.

The Dreamer’s life is simple; it has structure and purpose. She doesn’t need to worry if she’ll be laid off or fear she’ll be replaced by a job-stealing AI. Every day, I aim at the ritual chalice, pull my slingshot back as far as it goes, and let loose a shot, seeing just how far from the mark my best attempt still is. Then the Dreamer and I putter around our tiny patio, flinging fire into the furthest targets we can hit, getting a feel for the specifics of the slingshot. I watch how far off center my shot flies when I move just a few degrees left or right and study the arc of the fireball as it sails through the air, trying to get a feel for where I’ll need to place the one that really counts. I start to imagine I’ve mastered the technique, then I miss the mark again. I try to orient myself by lining up the Dreamer’s arm with parts of the environment, then decide to aim by feeling and muscle memory alone. It’s simple, repetitive, and altogether satisfying to learn, and I feel myself and the Dreamer become one.

Before fulfilling the last of her duties, she speaks to her mentor, eats a simple meal, and even has time for hobbies (again, I envy her). She has an omelette and mediates, or slurps a simple soup and plays the guitar. After one particularly difficult day, she eats a pepperoni pizza and masturbates. A girl’s got to treat herself, after all. Whatever the specifics, this routine defines her life in a way that chaos defines most of ours.

The Dreamer’s day ends at the confession wall, where one by one, villagers slip a long braid of their hair through a slit and tell her their wishes. If she wants to grant the wish, she chops off the braid, which her mentor will later weave into her slingshot to increase its strength. Otherwise, she lets the petitioner leave, knowing that she won’t help them.

Perfecting your shot is the mechanical challenge of Many Nights A Whisper, but the real point is to interrogate which wishes you would grant if you had the chance. Some are straightforward. A wish for a new pet, or the perfect amount of rain. Others are more challenging. Would you guarantee someone their child will never suffer? Is it right to wish for your parents to fall back in love, or is that stealing their free will? What if you could free the whole world of the constraints imposed by gender or religion?

There are no right answers in Many Nights A Whisper. Even the questions, ranging from profound to utterly silly, don’t betray a theme. They’re more a prompt for reflection than an expression of a worldview, and if there’s a singular message to be found in the game, it’s in the lingering unease after the ceremony.

When the night finally comes, I hesitate. I walk quickly to the edge of my balcony, take aim, then pull back. I walk away and return. I line up a shot, adjusting over and over until it feels right, then hold it, deciding if I’m sure. Eventually, I am sure, and I let the fire fly toward the chalice, the slowest a shot has ever seemed to take to reach its target. The shot lands, the chalice erupts in flames, and the village celebrates. But the Dreamer doesn’t join them, left to wonder what her life becomes now, and I have to admit that, as satisfying as it felt, I might have a more interesting story to write if I’d missed.

Many Nights A Whisper is available now on PC.