By Tom Mc Shea, Editor
Warning: This editorial contains massive spoilers pertaining to the ending to Fable: The Journey.
I finally understand the Kinect's enormous potential. In the waning
moments of Fable: The Journey, I needed to make a choice that I had been
dreading since this game was first announced. Would I be able to accept
my role as hero and step through the light with Theresa, knowing that
doing so would doom my loyal horse to death? It's an incredibly
heart-wrenching decision, one I fought against as hard as I could, but
when the moment came, there was nothing I could do. The fate of the
world hinged on my decision, so I had to turn my back on Seren, and live
with the knowledge that I had dragged her along on a quest in which she
could not possibly survive to see the outcome.
A horse in need is a horse indeed.
Before you understand how gut-wrenching this moment was, you need to
know how this relationship formed during the course of our adventure.
Every action in Fable: The Journey is controlled with the Kinect, and
the hands-on approach to character building helped mold the feelings
that developed along the way. Seren and Gabriel, the would-be hero whom
you control, have been inseparable since young Gabriel was a toddler.
Their bond had been cemented years ago, but my connection developed
during the course of the game.
The most obvious bonding moments occurred whenever Seren suffered an
injury. Hobbes and other enemies ambushed us while traveling along the
road, and they have no sympathy for innocent animals such as Seren. So
they planted explosive barrels and wooden barriers in the road to upset
her gallop, and fired arrows down from the safety of their overheard
perches. She whinnied with distress when these weapons made contact with
her, but I pushed her onward, and she obediently complied with my
wishes because she had absolute trust in me, even when her life was in
danger.
After the escape, I searched for a quiet resting place along the road.
Once stopped, I examined just how much punishment Seren had taken from
those nasty creatures. Sometimes, she would rise on her hind legs,
kicking her hooves wildly in the air, because an arrow shaft was lodged
in her hide. By waving my arms and uttering soothing words, I eased her
distress and then slowly removed the arrow from her side. Other times,
I'd rest my hands on her open wounds to knit them tight. She would neigh
affectionately after I fixed her up, clearly grateful for my efforts,
and she might even nuzzle my arm. Seeing her respond to my actions was
uplifting, so I did as much as I could at every rest stop. Sometimes, I
would just brush the dirt from her hide or feed her an apple, and these
simple actions helped strengthen the bond between us.
Source: asia.gamespot
