Sable: The Freedom to Choose

Dear Kaan,

I really couldn’t agree more with the way you feel about Sable, the last bit in particular: it’s special. It’s a post-apocalyptic, sci-fi fantasy world grounded firmly in the reality of people, their lives, and the little things they do every day – none the least of which, their jobs.

Everything is about career in Sable. Guards, merchants, climbers, entertainers, priests, machinists, people who sell bird shit(?), innkeepers, cartographers, beetle wranglers… and so on. Most everyone is so secure in themselves, as dictated by their stable employment. Their Gliding is a thing of the past, nothing but a happy memory that they definitely don’t even miss that much, it’s fine. They’re happy working the same job the rest of their lives. Across all dialogue choices, it makes Sable feel more than a little bit inferior, unready, out of her depth. I think it’s something we’ve all felt, especially as young adults being pushed to university. It’s such a universal sensation that the pressure is immediately on as Sable waxes and wanes about how her Gliding will go. But almost immediately after that, you start talking to people. And oh boy, do they say a lot with just a few words.

Sable’s worldbuilding is great, you’re right! As much as I enjoy the fallen ships with their curious ‘ATOMIC DISPOSAL’ logos or the skeletons of long-dead beasts, it’s the culture on display that interests me the most. All of us felt unready for higher education and career pursuits, I think; pressured, like Sable, to pick one thing, very quickly, very young, and to stick with it forever. But as you meet more and more people who clock you as a Glider, it becomes clear that it’s not quite that serious. Unlike the real world, Sable’s encouraged to spend as much time on her Gliding as she pleases – she can take her time and see every corner of the world, or beeline for a Machinist mask and run straight back home. Many NPCs say they had no idea what to do on their Gliding, but stumbled upon a job, fell in love, and never looked back. There’s one NPC in particular who really struck me, and the first one I thought of while reading your letter: What if she’s tired of entertaining by 50? Why does she need to pick so young?

Eliisabet is a guard you run into at Burnt Oak Station. She doesn’t state her exact age, but suffice to say, she’s been a guard for a long while. Long enough to have healed-over scars, a chip on her helmet, and seen a great many things. The picture of stable stewardship. Sable is shocked, then, when Eliisabet says the young Glider is the one inspiring her, and not the other way around. She realizes she may be sick of the whole “guard” thing, and decides to go on an unprecedented Second Gliding. She never really got to see the world, she says. Her first Gliding was great, but she decided too quickly, and the world has changed, as has she.

It’s a joy to follow Eliisabet from place to place as she adventures back out into the world of Midden, seeing sights she’d only heard tale of standing stationary as a protector. She’s a great example of that same sensation you and I had while playing – as free as the Gliders roam, the burden of choice weighs heavy on their shoulders. But Eliisabet realizes life doesn’t have to be so rigid. I mean, who’s gonna stop her? And why would they? They have enough to worry about on their own! It was a nice thing to see – one of the best sidequests in the game, imo – and adds both texture and relatability to Midden, Sable, and her Gliding.

And wow, no wonder everyone you meet talks about their own Gliding, and envies Sable on hers. The levitation bubble is great, of course, but riding over the beautifully empty world, wind whipping past, is incredible. Quiet, and contemplative, and beautiful. It’s the coming-of-age story we deserve, truly! It’s a 17-year-old’s final road trip before shipping off to college, whether they’re ready or not, with the vistas of every Wonder of the World in one traversable region. There’s a near-omnipresent sense of wistfulness and nostalgia in Sable, and that homesickness and self-reflection combine perfectly, for both protagonist and player.

It made me realize something as I was returning Sable home to the Ibex Camp to choose her mask: did you notice none of the Ibexii have jobs? Not specific ones, anyways. They’re not merchants or cartographers – they’re just Ibexii. Family. They each have their own mask, just as Sable is granted hers, and each of them carries out whichever odd jobs they’re capable of for the good of the tribe. Matriarch Jadi actually cheats a little bit on Sable’s Gliding – she gives her little hints, leaves her messages, and tells her she can come back home whenever she likes, although she’s not supposed to influence the Gliding at all. She’s a mother, through and through, and that’s become her de facto position in the Ibexii. It’s easy to see why Sable so often longs for home, when her home is what supported her so thoroughly. They built her newest family member – Simoon, her hoverbike – and more than prepared her for the Gliding. They raised her. 

When I finished the game, I had unlocked every mask available. I didn’t dare touch the ending area until I had 100%’d the game, doing every quest, unlocking every costume & bike part, finding every Chum… And after all that, I chose the Ibexii mask anyways. It felt right for Sable and the journey she’d been on to try to find her place. Much like the game as a whole, it felt special.