#yeah sometimes i write 4000 word essays out of nowhere about useless things

[dying-of-thirst-here]

The Light of Providence and the Spiral of Death: FFX and FFXV Compared

This is a pretty lengthy stretch of meta comparing FFX and FFXV’s attitudes toward death. Since that obviously ties into their plots, this will contain copious spoilers for both games.

The stories of FFX and FFXV do not remotely resemble one another. They do, however, in my opinion, contain parallel situations whose resolutions go in completely opposite directions. There isn’t anything particularly significant in that except that they are both major titles in the same series; I don’t know if they share any writers’ credits, but I would tend to assume not.

Both games depict sets of characters who’ve grown up in cultures that glorify self-sacrifice on behalf of a greater good. Their narratives, however, show wildly different depictions on the worthiness of that glorification.

These are not going to be brief rundowns, but I’m going to try to keep things simple. Like, I know one of the risks of being unsent in FFX is turning into a fiend, I know afterlife stuff happens in FFXV, but things like these are not really relevant to what I’m talking about. Yes, I am aware the main character in FFX also dies. But Tidus is not Noctis’s parallel in FFX; Yuna is.

So lemme start by laying out the cultural contexts we’re working within.

FFX: Just Don’t Climb Mountains with Corpses on Them. Don’t.

So Spira, the world of FFX, has a problem: it’s actually kind of hard to die. In fact, in some situations it might be impossible to die.

Okay, we don’t have to oversimplify: anyone can die in FFX. But unless a ritual undertaken by a specialist is performed immediately… not a whole lot happens when you die. You remain in the world of the living as something like a ghost, but you are for the most part indistinguishable from a living person. These ghosts are called “unsent,” due to the ritual performed for the dead being called “the sending,” as in sending them to the afterlife. Unsent can and do blend into the rest of the population and live relatively normal lives, not necessarily bothering anyone. Obviously, this is kind of fucked up, and no one wants to end up unsent or have their loved ones become unsent, so the sending ritual is treated as a matter of urgency… officially.

It almost goes without saying, then, that most of the people in positions of significant power in FFX are dead. Leaders hold onto their power by letting their deaths go unannounced and staying where they are, unsent. There are two examples in the game of massive unchanging power structures made up of unsent that exist solely to protect and perpetuate themselves. The game’s story is about how everyone who lives within the cultures that uphold these power structures ultimately suffer due to the people in power being unwilling to let go or accept change.

I know that’s a strange place to start explaining the religious atmosphere of FFX, but populating the upper reaches of power with undead incumbents is exactly the sort of situation where you’d want to weed out powerful up-and-comers. The religion itself – the worship of a figure named Yevon – dominates Spira’s culture, and it promotes faith to the point of such zealotry that people do actively seek to die for it. There a number of ways this works (Yevon is very complicated and you, reader, have presumably played FFX and do not need it explained in great detail), but we’ll focus on the two big ones: the fayth and the high summoners.

The fayth are people who have willingly had their bodies sealed within statues that worshipers form temples around and pray to. So first of all, they are officially sanctioned unsent. You can interact with ghostly versions of their human forms. Their primary method of interacting with the living world, however, and the reason they’d die in this horrible way to begin with, is that a fayth can take on the form of a fantastical and powerful creature which at that point is referred to as an aeon. The interchangeability of these terms varies; both the statue and the unsent ghosts are called fayth, but the dragons and the kirin and the fire demons and their ilk are always called aeons, even though the dragon and statue and ghost are all the same ‘person.’ I want try to avoid getting into these games’ weird vocabulary too deeply, but the distinction here is important when talking about summoners.

If you, hypothetical reader, have not played FFX but came across this essay and thought 'eh, fuck it,’ I respect that decision, and though you must be familiar with the summoning tradition in Final Fantasy as a franchise, you might be wondering why a strong religious culture would require people entombing themselves so they can become miserable unkillable fantastic beasts. You will probably not be surprised that this is where things get horrible.

The specialist mentioned earlier who needs to be called in to perform the sending for the dead is a role within Yevon called a summoner. Yes, like the summoners from almost every Final Fantasy game. Summoners train and work intensely with a fayth so they can form a bond that enables the summoner to call on the fayth’s aeon. Summoners are also the only people who can perform the sending, for… a reason, most likely. Becoming a summoner is a lot of work, though, and some villages lack any resident summoners at all, which is probably one reason there are so many dead people hanging around and getting away with it.

So that’s a summoner. Not all summoners are high summoners – in fact, there are only a handful of high summoners acknowledged in the game – but during certain cyclic periods of Spira’s history, all summoners want to become high summoners, or they come under a great deal of social pressure to attempt to become a high summoner. A high summoner’s job is to die.

The narrative that Yevon has embedded in its culture – and, to be fair, very much what appears at first to be going on – is that Spira is under a sort of curse that calls forth a massive sea monster unsubtly referred to as Sin. It appears without warning to destroy villages and ships; Spira consists of a number of small landmasses that contain a lot of coastline, so during the periods in which Sin is active, Spira’s population lives in constant terror. These periods of activity are not set to any kind of predictable system or cycle. Sin will vanish for years, and then it will just appear again one day. The only thing that can send Sin back into its temporary banishment is the most powerful aeon in Spira. This can be obtained by first earning the approval of a core set of the fayth (which itself involves walking most of the length of Spira, since the fayth are all located in regional temples), then climbing a mountain that kills most people who manage to make it that far, then getting into the dead city beyond the mountain and locating and praying to the fayth whose statue is unhelpfully based there, who will then hopefully grant you access to the aeon that can destroy Sin.

All of the other aeons have names – Valefor, Ifrit, Ixion, Shiva, Bahamut – but this one does not. It’s simply called the Final Aeon. It costs the high summoner his or her life to call on it - the high summoner doesn’t even get to see the fight - and then both Sin and the Final Aeon vanish.

The people of Spira believe the high summoners are laying down their lives to save everyone else’s, and they are granted the status of something like a saint in death. In actuality, the high summoner’s death sets off the conditions to begin the cycle of Sin eventually reappearing again.

But hey, we have to believe in something, right?

FFXV: The Once and Future Kings

So… FFXV has strange ideas about Christ figures. Not Xenogears strange, but… like, there’s official artwork strongly suggestive of the Triumphal Entry only there’s a chocobo instead of a donkey??

There is nothing in the story or setting that is actually thematically Biblical at all. JRPGs! What can you do.

This is going to be a little more difficult to lay out, because FFXV doesn’t really believe in things like backstory and exposition. Which I actually like in fantasy fiction, but it’s going to make explaining the self-serving power structure in this game a matter of interpretation here and there. Bear with me.

There are a number of regional cultures in Eos, FFXV’s loose floating jumble of continents, and none of them seem particularly religious. But they do have six gods, and they physically exist within the world. No one worships these gods, exactly. They are looked on with awe and respect and fear, but there are no organized religions around them that we see. This was a terrible oversight on the part of the ancient people of Eos, because these gods historically needed something to distract them from destroying everyone’s lives constantly. Eventually they all just agreed to go to sleep, I think.

But despite the lack of organized religion, Eos has an interesting figure known as the Oracle. There is only ever one Oracle at a time, and the role is passed down within one of the royal bloodlines. The Oracle’s power is that she can wake up the gods and speak and understand their speech, which is a great idea, probably.

The Oracle is a universally popular figure. During the game’s time frame the role is fulled by Lady Lunafreya, and the radio newscasts and newspapers you can find suggest a culture of celebrity worship of Lunafreya herself. She’s got other things going, like she’s a white mage and sorta princess, but the gods she’s supposed to commune with don’t seem to command much influence.

BECAUSE THAT’S WHAT THEY WANT YOU TO THINK we’ll come back to that

Anyway, the Oracle ties into The Prophesy. Yes, FFXV is a The Prophesy story. Everyone in FFXV knows The Prophesy. But there are also aspects of The Prophesy that you have to have explained to you by a rock or a dragon, so there’s The Prophesy and then there’s like The Gnostic Prophesy–

I really, really like FFXV. I do not The Prophesy stories. FFXV is a really bizarre example of a The Prophesy story, so honesty I kind of give it a pass. It’s just… okay, look

There are books scattered around the world that are parts of a cosmogony explaining bits of Eos’s mythology. The cosmogony explains that the gods picked the Oracle’s bloodline, and another magic bloodline kind of self-selected itself and established its own kingdom, Lucis, to whom the gods entrusted a supposedly wondrous but frankly pretty evil crystal; the royal family can tap into it kind of like a magic battery, so it does have its non-evil uses, but using that way drastically shortens the king’s lifespan, so… yeah, still pretty evil. This cosmogony also frequently mentions that someday the world will get dark and awful and then a king of light will make it better, yay, monarchism and a passing familiarity with Latin! It says it fancier than that, but that is pretty much all it says regarding any future bad times that I saw. This seems to be what people mean when they talk about The Prophesy, so most of the people in Eos can be forgiven for having no idea what that’s supposed to mean. Unfortunately, that does not include Lunafreya, who has one of the gods just like hanging out with her all the time, nor does it include the current King of Lucis, Regis, whom the crystal… talks… to? I don’t know, but when Regis’s son Noctis is five years old the crystal somehow tells Regis that Noctis is going to be the king of light. Oh, hey, guess how the king of light saves the world?

I’m doubly assuming that if you’re reading this you have played FFXV, so yeah, after two thousand words we are finally preparing the cabin for our final approach to my narrative comparison: he has to die.

Regis knows this. Lunafreya, a close childhood friend of Noctis’s, knows this. Noctis does not know this. Neither of them ever tell him. Noctis spends the game walking toward his death blind. And to make sure this point isn’t lost on you, it turns out that this isn’t the first time the conditions of The Prophesy, vague as they are, have been met. There was a king of light chosen by the crystal who predated Noctis by some two thousand years, and what happened to him was arguably worse than death. No one warned him, either.

The king of light is a venerated figure in Lucian artwork and poetry. He’s also a lamb for the slaughter. Even Christ got a heads up.

The Meta-narrative

“Meta-narrative” can mean about a dozen things depending on what school of postmodernism you’re incorrectly quoting, so I’ll be clearer: it’s the story that the story tells about itself. We know what these stories are both about, but how are they about them? The characters in FFX venerate and aspire to be as great as the high summoners, but what does the game itself think about what the high summoners have to do? What does FFXV think about what Noctis has to do? What are the games’ respective opinions of dying for a cause?

Well, that is of course up to interpretation. Neither fate is what can be comfortably regarded as a “good” death: the circumstances surrounding the high summoner and the king of light are very different, but in both cases they are lied to in order to put them where the real power of their respective worlds want them. Yevon wants to maintain the status quo to a degree that is obsessive and stagnant. The gods of Eos want to eliminate their own mistake, the previous king of light, which should tell you how much priority they’re giving The Prophesy.

I can’t speak on behalf of the culture that produced both of these stories, but I can say with some confidence that in Western culture we regard the concept of dying for the sake of others as a very noble calling. FFX has to make you look at that ideal from different angles to make its point about how much a single life sacrificed willingly can destroy the people left behind who didn’t get a say. It does this repeatedly: Wakka’s brother, Seymour’s mother, whichever of those two Crusaders you decided to doom, but it does so with the most impact when the game reveals the nature of the Final Aeon. There is no fayth in the ruined city. In order to obtain the most powerful aeon a summoner can call upon, they have to offer up the soul of one of their companions to be turned into a fayth.

What’s that? You’re balking at sacrificing a friend in order to save the world? But you were perfectly willing to sacrifice yourself! Your friend stood with you for your entire journey and is already mourning your impending death; going along with this plan is a way to follow you to the very end. It may even be seen as a relief from the burden of guilt and grief.

In order to become a martyr, you have to go through with murder. All the high summoners you’ve looked up to your entire life achieved what they did through killing someone they loved. Someone who had been willing to die for them every step of the way there.

The last high summoner had two companions with him on his journey. The surviving member of the party didn’t survive for very long. And with no one to perform a sending, he was left to become a ghost.

That is what FFX thinks of the nobility of suicide.

The Greater Good

FFXV’s situation is harder to make emotional sense of, not least because because the end of the game presents a scientific problem with a magical solution. The world has done dark because… parasites… release of light-absorbing particles into the atmosphere… yeah, human sacrifice ought to do the trick.

But let’s set the plot aside. The plot’s excuses for killing Noctis don’t literally matter, because, you know, The Prophesy. Ardyn has to die, Noctis has to die, and then Ardyn has to die extra, and thus the sun returns. But how does the story itself feel about this?

FFX never shows the audience how a person is turned into a fayth. It never shows us how the high summoner dies. But FFXV shows us Noctis’s suicide-by-summon in brutal, extended detail. We’re finally faced with Noctis at the edge of death begging the ghost of his father to kill him; Regis hesitates, and then he runs Noctis through. Regis kills Noctis. This can’t be a death we’re supposed to feel good about.

FFX is less interested in the deaths themselves than it is in their aftermaths. We don’t see the aftermath of Noctis’s death. We don’t know what his friends do after he dies. Noctis’s death is the end of the story; it’s the note FFXV decides to go out on. The story presents it as very sad, but also as the right thing for Noctis to do.

You can certainly make that argument considering the scale of what his death achieves. I believe that is what the game thinks, with its final shots of the sun rising over various game locations. Noctis was the only person who could do this, and he was strong enough to go through with it even though he emphatically didn’t want to.

Tidus basically ripped reality apart in order to save the next person slated to die as high summoner. He didn’t cry at their last campfire. He… well, he murdered his dad, look, FFX is complicated and deeply invested in its metaphors.

But it’s striking to me that none of Noctis’s friends try to brainstorm another way out of this. That’s the direction any other Final Fantasy game would have taken, so I suppose it’s to FFXV’s credit that it doesn’t do that. But have his friends really just… given up? None of them even declare they’re willing to continue to live in perpetual darkness for the sake of keeping Noctis now that’s he’s finally come back? Any one of the three has the background and motivation to at least suggest it, even if Noctis disagrees.

They cry for him, but they don’t believe they can save him. They grew up believing in the king of light that would save them.

The King Must Die

This is a question that can only be applied very broadly, because both games have their individual answers, but I find it interesting and am therefore ging to pose it anyway: why, on a thematic level, is Yuna spared and Noctis killed?

Again, it’s entirely up to interpretation, but I think a lot of it has to do with character agency. From the beginning of FFX to the end, Yuna makes her own decisions and carries them out, even when the rest of the party opposes her. She decides she wants to become a summoner, and she does. She decides she wants to embark on the journey to attempt to become a high summoner, so she gathers her friends and off they go. When she’s asked to partake in a political marriage, she recognizes that the situation is weird, but it’s still her choice. She ends up basing her decision on information only she has access to, so for a while her friends have no idea what the hell she’s doing, but whatever, she’s doing it anyway! And when she’s faced with the question of which of her friends she’s going to sacrifice for the Final Aeon, she doesn’t. She refuses. She was indeed willing to die herself, but she does something no one else has done and draws the line there.

It’s easy to forget this aspect of FFX, because Yuna is quiet and timid and kind of an idealized white mage type character. She cries over her impending fate. But that was still a fate she chose for herself, and she rejects it as soon as she realizes that entire high summoner aspiration is a lie.

Noctis is never given the opportunity to make decisions like this. As a prince, he’s locked into his fate regardless, and on top of that the crystal declares that this prince in particular was born to die. He is told half truths about this - he knows he’s fated to be the king of light, but neither his father nor Lunafreya will tell him what that means. One bit of party banter even has him complaining about The Prophesy being “vague.” Like Yuna, he’s to be a part of a political marriage, but he was informed of this, not asked. The gods jerk him around with migraines, bad weather, and occasionally just showing up and telling him what to do. When he’s finally told the king of light’s purpose, he’s essentially been imprisoned by one of the gods, Bahamut, and he again just is being informed. You’re going to die. Bahamut then proceeds to hold Noctis captive for ten years. He lets him go when he decides Noctis is ready to be sacrificed. There is nothing approaching a choice in any of this.

To add insult to this, Bahamut’s explanation for why Noctis has to die is largely unrelated to The Prophesy and is manipulative as hell. Yes, the world is shrouded in darkness, that’s bad, agreed. But his version of The Prophesy introduces an entirely new character. The Accursed! The Usurper! You’re kindly given a dialogue option to ask who the hell we’re talking about now, and oh, you mean Ardyn. Your previous chosen king of light. The one you tasked with curing a plague, allowed to get sick himself doing so, and subsequently denied any kind of access to the afterlife because you think his illness is gross. So he’s just stuck being alive and sick and increasingly vengeful forever. ….oh, hey, I think that’s my pager, I’ll just, uh, be a minute

Bahamut also tells Noctis that he has to sacrifice himself for the people because so many people have sacrificed themselves for him. Okay, whose deaths are we holding Noctis responsible for here? Is this still about Jared? Because we avenged the FUCK out of Jared!

My point is, by the end of the game we’ve gone well beyond denied agency; Noctis has ended up kidnapped and imprisoned. As of this writing, we don’t know what was going on with Noct during those ten years. If he was sleeping, dreaming, being brainwashed by a dragon – we don’t know. What we see is him telling his friends that he’s made up his mind to do this, but being back with them is weakening his resolve. He doesn’t want to go. He wants to stay with them.

But he does go. He restores the light, though he doesn’t live to see it.

FFXV admires Noctis for fulfilling his destiny, but it has no reason to. It never gives him the option to choose another path. This cup will not pass from him.

Noctis’s life was short and painful, and he had ten years of even that stolen from him. But he loved his friends. For them, he found the courage to walk back to that throne room alone.