Sky: Children of the Light 

Question: How do avatars and interactions in Sky:Children of the Light inform our human existence/position in the greater, vast cosmos?

Sky: Children of the Light is an adventure game that follows an enchanting story arc. The world is beautifully-animated and captivating, offering a calm yet mystical atmosphere as you pursue your mission. The end goal of the game is to return fallen stars to their rightful constellations, but along the way you’re also interacting/reliving the memories of spirits, spreading light, and uncovering your avatar’s flight abilities. As a smartphone/tablet-only game (I played it on my iPhone), you control your avatar through the screen. The left hand moves your avatar, while the right is able to look around and adjust your perspective. These controls, as opposed to keyboard/mouse controls, made me feel somewhat more immersed. This alone brought up an interesting question of the ‘distance’ virtual games pose to the player in terms of having screens, buttons, etc. separating real life intent/commands to virtual movement. Being able to tap on an item with my fingers versus using a cursor or a keyboard button, made my experience seem more integrated– although I should note that since there is no version for desktop, I can’t truly compare these experiences. Playing through my phone (a smaller screen) also prevented me from having a more encompassing experience, so it was surprising how the captivating visuals still made me feel so a part of the world.


In this game, everybody starts off with the same-looking avatar and there is no option to give it a username/alias. Later on, customization is an option, but it requires completing certain levels/tasks that I hadn’t accomplished. But even then, the customization options are not designed to make your avatar largely unique compared to other players. Any modifications you can make, differ only slightly in shape, color and style. There are no extravagant costumes or accessories for one to flaunt. While you play the game, you also don’t really notice how other players look like. They remain both nameless and translucent. There is no encouragement to notice others for their appearance. It is only when you ask them to be your friend, that you can give them a nickname and see their figures light up. Allowing you to name your new friend lets you identify which friend is which, though how you choose to name them is entirely up to you and unknown to the other person.

Speaking more about social interaction in this game, in middle between new worlds, you can hang out in an open field with other players. Here you are able to have momentary (10 sec) conversations, exchange gestures, and friend one another. The short conversations don’t offer a platform for in-depth chatter, and is only really enough for quick greetings. The majority of interaction can be felt when you ask to hold another player’s hand and explore the world together. For some gates/caves, you need two players to open it, so teamwork is definitely encouraged in this game. The intention of this choice in the game seems to be to prioritize play/exploration/coordination without the fuss of perceiving another player by their appearance or background. As “children of the light”, you are part of a mission bigger than yourself and the characters around you. Instead of focusing on people, there are plenty of animals, scenery and landscapes to be enthralled by.

 

The game advertises itself as one of “compassion, community, and wonder” (thatskygame.com), and I think those are accurate adjectives. There is no violent objective in this game. Instead it focuses on understanding lost spirits, appreciating your environment/surroundings, and restoring proper balance to the world. In reflection of my experience, it makes me consider how we (humans) move around in the real world; how our purposes are so closely attached to worldly objects and other people’s perceptions of us. Individualism convinces us we are the most important person in the world, which severely hurts how much compassion and care we give others, especially that which is not human. The expansive kingdoms of this game taught me to look around more, to seek spirits that are in need of attention, and to spread light everywhere I go. Though I didn’t finish the game, the perspective of how to view the world outside of single viewpoint was incredibly humbling and strangely calming.