If You Loved Clair Obscur: Expedition 33, You Absolutely Need to (Re)Play Child of Light
Let’s be honest—no one really saw the explosion of Clair Obscur: Expedition 33 coming. Sure, it caught our attention during its reveal at Summer Game Fest 2024, but even then, predicting that it would become both a critical and commercial phenomenon? That would’ve been a stretch. Even the developers at Sandfall Interactive are still pinching themselves.
And yet, it happened: over 2 million copies sold in just 12 days, a whopping 92/100 on Metacritic, and a near-perfect 9.7/10 user score. It’s officially the highest-rated game of the year across both media and player reviews. All those glowing write-ups? Well-deserved. Sandfall didn’t just make a hit—they crafted a modern classic.
Now, if you’ve already finished your journey through the fractured city of Lumière and unraveled the mystery of the Paintress (don’t worry, no spoilers here), chances are you’ve hit that all-too-familiar emotional crash. You know the one—when the joy of completing a game you loved turns into a hollow, lingering sadness.
In gamer lingo, we call that the “post-game blues.” A term that may sound lighthearted, but anyone who’s been deeply moved by a game knows just how real it can feel. While I can’t offer a hotline or support group, I do have a suggestion to ease that heartache: go back and (re)discover Child of Light.
Now, anyone who knows this Ubisoft gem will tell you it’s like treating sadness with more sadness—but hear me out. The emotional core, artistic beauty, and gameplay of Child of Light echo Expedition 33 in ways that are both comforting and cathartic.
From Lumière to Lemuria
Plenty of games inspired Clair Obscur: Expedition 33—from Final Fantasy X and Lost Odyssey, to Elden Ring, NieR, and Sekiro. You’ll find lists online suggesting these as next steps after finishing Expedition 33, and I won’t disagree. But for me, there’s one underrated masterpiece that stands out above the rest: Child of Light.
Instead of storming through a continent shrouded in painterly chaos, as in Clair Obscur, Child of Light invites players into a dreamlike world where shadows have stolen the light. First released in 2014 by Ubisoft Montreal, it originally launched on PC, PS3, PS4, Xbox 360, Xbox One, and Wii U, before eventually making its way to PS Vita and Nintendo Switch.
The game follows Aurora, a young Austrian princess who wakes up in the mystical world of Lemuria. After a dark coup by the Black Queen, Aurora sets off with her firefly companion Igniculus and a ragtag band of friends to reclaim the sun, moon, and stars. It may not start with the same emotional punch as Expedition 33, but the journey becomes just as meaningful—tackling themes like grief, isolation, and the complexities of family.
A Living, Breathing Painting
If Clair Obscur is a masterclass in light and shadow, Child of Light is a watercolor daydream. Its art style, inspired by the Golden Age of Illustration, turns every scene into a hand-painted marvel. It’s not just beautiful—it’s spellbinding.
This visual magic comes to life thanks to Ubisoft’s now-retired UbiArt Framework engine, which also powered Rayman Legends and Valiant Hearts. The engine allowed artists to directly import their creations into the game, resulting in a style that feels more like a moving storybook than a traditional RPG.
Then there’s the music—an equally vital part of the experience. Composed by Canadian artist Cœur de Pirate, the soundtrack is a graceful blend of melancholic piano pieces and soaring orchestral themes. While less expansive than the score in Expedition 33, it’s just as moving. “Off to Sleep,” sung by Cœur de Pirate herself, is as unforgettable as the haunting main theme voiced by Alice Duport-Percier in Expedition 33. In fact, Child of Light‘s OST was even nominated at the 2014 Game Awards.
A Cast of Misfits, Not Heroes
Of course, no RPG is complete without a memorable party. While Clair Obscur gave us deeply human characters that felt authentic and raw, Child of Light presents a different kind of ensemble—less chosen heroes, more poetic oddballs.
Aurora isn’t a warrior princess; she’s a fragile girl thrown into a fight she didn’t ask for. Alongside her are companions like Rubella the cheerful jester, Tristis her gloomy brother, Golem the gentle giant, Finn the cowardly Capilli mage, Robert the capitalist rat archer, Oengus the disgraced warrior, and Gen the grieving mermaid bard.
They’re not your typical saviors, but that’s exactly why they’re unforgettable. Each has their own emotional arc, and over time, their quirks become strengths. Their dialogue, written entirely in verse, gives the game a storybook feel. Some critics called this stylized writing unnatural—I say it transforms the whole experience into a living poem.
You’ll even find scattered sonnets in the game that reveal the hidden lore of Lemuria. And hey, if Clair Obscur‘s world was created by a family of painters, then I like to imagine Child of Light was written by their literary rivals—The Writers. Just a theory. (Okay, mostly a joke.)
A Battle System of Light and Timing
Now, let’s talk gameplay. Like Expedition 33, Child of Light offers a fresh take on turn-based combat. Ditching random encounters for visible enemies on the map, it uses a timeline system inspired by Final Fantasy and Grandia II. Each action has a wait time and a casting time—and if you’re hit mid-cast, you’re interrupted and knocked back in the timeline.
What makes Child of Light special is how it blends this with real-time strategy. Igniculus, your trusty firefly, can slow enemies down during battles, allowing for precise, tactical timing. You can play solo or in local co-op, where one player controls Aurora and the other assists with Igniculus.
The leveling system is more traditional than Expedition 33‘s Pictos, using classic skill trees to unlock new abilities. But it’s intuitive, effective, and satisfying to master.
A Personal Farewell
I originally wanted to end this piece with a clever rhyme to honor Child of Light’s poetic soul. But honestly? I couldn’t find a verse worthy of the emotions this game has stirred in me over the years.
So instead, I’ll leave you with something a little more personal. Just as Sandfall named their studio dog after Monoco, I named my cat Aurora—after the bravest, most touching princess I’ve ever met in a video game.
Take that however you will. As for me, I’ve still got a few Chromatic Nevrons to erase and some lingering Pictos calling my name.