At last, the finale has arrived! With all the key players assembled and committed to their roles, Princess Tutu’s thirteenth episode is a dazzling celebration of both their humanity and Drosselmeyer’s keen eye for storytelling. Heroes will rise, villains will fall, and the tragic inevitability of The Prince and the Raven shall be overcome at last. Having spent long hours fighting for Mytho’s heart and gaining powerful allies along the way, Ahiru will at last be rewarded for her efforts, and claim her princely prize.

That all does actually happen, at least on one level. There’s no metaphorical embellishment to this episode’s opening monologue, and no secret deception hidden in Kraehe’s plans; we are simply reintroduced to the facts as we know them, leading into a dramatic battle between all our leads. In some ways, this is the show’s most straightforward episode so far – every narrative action plays out according to a familiar script, and though Ahiru ultimately does avoid disappearing in a flash of light, her actions still conform to a classic fairy tale narrative. If you told this tale as a bedtime story, it would leave few lingering questions, and set the stage for a pleasant and restful sleep.

You probably wouldn’t sleep peacefully through that night, though. Loose ends like the tragic nature of Kraehe’s role, or the sudden sacrifice of Edel, would almost certainly infiltrate your dreams, prompting doubts as to the righteousness or finality of this ending. Though Ahiru and Fakir both take pains to avoid their written ends, they end this narrative no more aware of Drosselmeyer’s meddling than before – it is only the spurned Kraehe, who always knew she was doomed, that ever challenges their creator. I was surprised throughout this episode by how fully and evocatively it committed to its deception, and how the earnest feelings and vivid strength of Ahiru and Fakir were turned into pure spectacle. Though each of them fight their hearts out and earn a desperate victory, when the curtains fall, it’s still Drosselmeyer in the audience, clapping and jeering at our noble heroes. As it turns out, even the act of transcending their initial tragedy was just one more twist in Drosselmeyer’s play.

Both our ambiguous narrator and Drosselmeyer himself set the expectations for Ahiru’s final battle. The narrator talks of the white swan “abandoning herself” to try and protect the prince, while Drosselmeyer cackles as he calls out “speak of your love with the most sublime words you can find, and bring this tale to a sublimely tragic close.” Drosselmeyer has led all our leads to an ending that won’t make any of them happy – Rue doesn’t want to be the villain, Ahiru doesn’t want to disappear, Fakir can no longer protect Mytho, and Mytho is destined to catch his love only for a moment before she’s gone. And in one more gesture towards this episode’s clear finality, the title is revealed as “Swan Lake,” the play whose imagery has defined not just this particular feud, but the entirety of Princess Tutu.

Kraehe opens with a psychological thrust, telling Ahiru that this whole situation was a result of her choice to restore Mytho’s heart. “You are the one who set the tale in motion, even though no one wished it.” Her anger reveals her weakness, the bitterness she’s hiding at having been brought to this end. Kraehe is a simplistic villain who’s satisfied purely by a hollow victory over her enemy; Rue is an entire person, and I can’t imagine she’d be happy even with a victory here. And when Ahiru signifies she’d be gladly willing to die, if only it meant Mytho would be treated kindly, we see the weakness in her poise. Rue’s anger at Ahiru is genuine, but it’s not the anger of an avowed enemy – it’s a bitterness that she’s been forced to bring the story here at all.

But while Rue might be entirely bound by the role she’s been assigned, Fakir has grown tremendously over these past episodes. When Kraehe condemns Ahiru for pursuing the shards, it’s Fakir who defends her, saying that both he and Mytho now support her efforts. Fakir has been obstinate and cruel in the past, but he’s come to understand Ahiru possesses something unique and incredibly powerful. Saying “no one else but you could smilingly accept the fate of Princess Tutu,” he acknowledges that strength directly – not a physical strength, or a gift for dancing, but a profound selflessness and commitment to her convictions. And though the implications of his role once terrified him, standing beside such a brave friend, he finds his own bravery. Sword in hand, he strides forward and pledges to change fate.

An epic conclusion demands an epic battle, and episode thirteen certainly provides. Fakir’s battle with Kraehe’s minions is a fusion of combat and dance, each of his thrusts timed to a matching ballet position. Princess Tutu has demonstrated laudable dedication to its overarching ballet motif, and seeing Fakir demonstrate how dance can convey drama is a thrilling spectacle. Not only are his movements beautiful and exciting, they are also resoundingly Fakir-like. All the intensity and resolve he brings to his everyday actions are captured perfectly in dance, making his fight both an epic showdown and a resounding expression of self.

Though he’s beaten down by Kraehe’s attacks, Fakir’s efforts eventually lead him to Mytho, where he shatters Mytho’s sword and sets the stage for Ahiru’s own task. From the devastating delivery of Ahiru’s concern for Fakir to the gorgeous compositions bringing Kraehe’s stage to life, every element of Tutu’s production rings out with the intensity and consequence of this moment. Standing unwavering after Fakir’s sacrifice, Ahiru pledges to avert her fate, and save Mytho without vanishing herself.

Ahiru’s solution to the paradox of her role is a simple one: instead of speaking out to articulate her love and following the story to the letter, she decides instead to convey her love through movement. And so, just as with Fakir’s fight, Ahiru and Kraehe’s final duel is presented through the power of dance. As with Fakir, the individuality of these players comes through clearly in their physical movements; Ahiru’s compassion and delicate resolve, Kraehe’s menace (something that was even clear in her movements as the fake Mytho last time). Through Tutu’s careful illustration, dance becomes a vehicle fit for self-expression, dramatic conflict, and entire narrative arcs, as Ahiru shifts from desperate to despairing to confident in her own feelings and strength.

Ultimately, Ahiru’s passionate dance truly does reach Mytho, returning the light of feeling to his eyes. Telling herself that “the real me is just a duck with no powers, but if I have you, I can change!”, she resolves to overcome her destiny, and sends Kraehe cowering back into the darkness. Ahiru is saved by the support of all her friends, from Mytho’s love to Fakir’s trust to Edel’s heroic sacrifice, and the story ends on a romantic dance under a starry sky. At least three of our leads ended up relatively happy, and though there’s no real thematic significance to Ahiru’s victory, all’s well that ends well, right?

Well, of course not. Drosselmeyer is still in control, Rue is still being punished simply for being herself, and our actual heroes only really nudged their fates, not truly changing them. To be honest, I have no idea where Princess Tutu will go from here, and how our characters will shift from taking what happiness Drosselmeyer allows them to truly being masters of their destiny. But it’s been a rich and thrilling ride so far, and I love all of these brave heroes. I hope we can find them a more meaningful ending than this.

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