Fire Emblem 7 is my personal favorite video game ever made.

I received it for Christmas of 2003 from my aunt along with my new Flame Red Gameboy SP from my mother. I don't know why she got it for me, nor will I ever question it. Cause it changed my life, for better or worse.

The original Fire Emblem games by Shouzou Kaga were smash hits in Japan. Kaga wanted a strategy game wherein "each character is a protagonist in their own right, and you can actually get attached to them, making it closer to an RPG[.]" I always wax poetic about "player expression" whenever I am reviewing games nowadays, and that was what Kaga wanted in his series. When asked about it in the same interview, he opines, "I think this is something people understand once they play the game, but most of the characters are usable. And characters who at first seem like crappy, throwaway characters–if you take the time to build them up and nurture them, they can become incredibly powerful. We made a lot of characters like that."

Fast forwarding to 2003, Fire Emblem: The Blazing Blade follows the same design philosphy. Tohru Narihiro, a producer at Intelligent Systems states in a May 2003 interview that "The primary focus was to enable people do not play SRPGs to enjoy it." It is a simple game, released 6 years after Final Fantasy Tactics, the game most people (myself included) would credit as having popularized SRPGs in the west.

Firstly, I will get the obvious out of the way. This is an absolutely beautiful game with stunning pixel art and an incredible score. It is an absolute aesthetic masterpiece, with much of the groundwork laid out by its predecessor The Binding Blade. These two games are some the best looking and sounding titles in the entire Gameboy Advance library. That honor is owed to two veritable superwomen of the genre who do not get enough credit. There was Sachiko Wada, who did the character portraits as well as in-game CGs. Her art was the stuff of dreams for me, and it honestly still is. She can nail quiet beauty to war-weary stoicness; adorably cute to horrifically ugly and everything in between. Her art gives the game so much of its character- it wouldn't be FE7 without Wada's portraits. As much as I really like the art from the older entries, her work is the Fire Emblem platonic ideal. Her designs really do form the baseline by which I often compare other characters, even in other games. Wada has only worked on the Fire Emblem series to date and she is seriously incredible. She still does artwork for the Fire Emblem Heroes gacha and some commemorative pieces as well, all of which can be checked out on her Pixiv. Then there is the game's composer, Yuka Tsujiyoko. Tracks like “Wind across the Plains,” “Companions,” etc. have become iconic pieces within the series and that is all thanks to Tsujiyoko’s virtuosity. “Bern - A Mother’s Wish” deserved a real sound chip! As much as people hate the squeals and scratches of the hardware, she made it sound wonderful, particularly on the main theme, which to this day is my favorite rendition of such an iconic leitmotif.

Fire Emblem’s story is segmented into three different “modes,” one of which is a prologue and two of which exist as parallel timelines, each focusing on one of three central protagonists.

Lyndis, the first protagonist, acted as a model introduction for so many people into the world of Fire Emblem and strategy RPGs in general. It is comprised of ten simple maps and appropriately scaled narrative- a tight well constructed intro arc of a young woman of the plains discovering she is of royal birthright. Lyndis meets friends and foes alike who each introduce core concept of the games mechanics - the weapon triangle, siege maps, rout maps, terrain bonuses, party organization, enemy reinforcements, fog of war, etc.

Lyndis is a strong character, never a damsel in distress, neither beholden to expectations of her ethnicity nor her gender. Her journey through a war torn Caelin hints at far greater forces at work, but keeps things focused on her own personal odyssey and growth. Lyn Mode does have it’s fair share of criticism, particularly the forced tutorial aspects which has annoyed veteran players to the point that removing it has become a staple for ROM hackers. Lyn Mode is very easy too, but it is supposed to be, because it’s supposed to be an introduction to major gameplay concepts. It is a tutorial that has gone a step beyond, with a likable character arc and some of the most endearing playable units in the entire series. One of my main criticisms of the game is that Lyn ends up being less useful from a metagaming standpoint, because she is one of my favorite characters in any video game.

“The nomads of the plains do not abandon their fellow tribespeople. Eliwood and Hector are my dear friends… Their sorrow is my sorrow. Their anger is my anger.” - Lyndis in Chapter 31E/33H, Light

Then the world opens up to Eliwood’s story, the game begins a proper progression into an extensive and oftentimes challenging strategy game. Eliwood is a comparatively tame and even boring choice of protagonist compared to Lyn, sort of the picturesque shonen hero that we associate with earlier Fire Emblem. He even has the big sword to boot. Yet as the world opens up and we meet the cast, learn of the surrounding nations and their inhabitants, his story arc still maintains high quality. Eliwood mode, for better or worse, is the way we are introduced to the meat and potatoes of the game. You fight your way through sprawling maps with scores of enemy units, conveying a desperate struggle as the flames of war engulf the surrounding landscape. The political intrigue and stories of love, loss and betrayal convey great emotional weight; they serve as amazing backdrops to particularly difficult maps. The game oozes despair as armies of unfeeling humanoid killers descend on Prince Zephiel in the dead of night, or when Ostia lays under siege. The constant threat of the mercenary group The Black Fang, whom have sentenced you to death “softly, with grace.”

“In the name of the Fang, I sentence you to death. Do not blame me for your fate. It is your own doing.” - Lloyd Reed, in Chapter 23E/24H: Four-Fanged Offense

Of course the real star of the show is the game’s third protagonist, Hector, he of the blue-haired and brash Fire Emblem family. Hector Mode is considered Fire Emblem: The Blazing Blade’s greatest triumph- specifically “Hector Hard Mode” (HHM) which is considerably more difficult than any of the other game modes. Hector was the proto-Ike, a gigantic presence on and off the battlefield. He feels much more magnetic than Eliwood, but their brotherhood is what serves as one of the best parts of the game’s narrative. Hector essentially abandons his post as a royal to help his friend and must deal with the consequences and his own regrets. Eliwood’s story is fully complemented and two’s stories intertwine in perfect harmony as both come to terms with the realities of the war. Hector’s path also opens up several different maps, all quite difficult; and also serves as the basis for unlocking all the hidden lore within the game. Once you have experience HHM, you really have experienced the full breadth of what this game can offer- it is an immensely satisfying and well balanced experience with a great trio of protagonists.

“Listen, Mark. You know how Eliwood is. Never wants to burden anyone else… Takes all responsibility on himself… Now, more than ever, we have to support him. Let’s go, Mark!” - Hector in Chapter 28E, Valorous Roland

Much of what we understand as the modern conception of the "SRPG" is owed to Kaga's production of Fire Emblem: Shadow Dragon and the Blade of Light; which on its own was produced to be a more accessible, character-driven answer to strategy games prior. Indeed, Fire Emblem throughout the years has relied on rather simple calculations for its different gameplay functions. Take the calculation in Blazing Blade for Attack Speed (which determines if you will attack twice during the fight, referred to a "doubling"):

AS = (Speed) - (Burden)
Burden = (Wt) - (Con); negative Burden values are set to 0
Wt = value of unit's equipped weapon's weight
Con = value of the given unit's constitution.

The calculation for whether or not you can "double" is as follows:

[(Unit's attack speed) − (target's attack speed)] ≥ 4

This is something that can very easily be calculated in a couple minutes just looking at a unit's stat spread and their weapon stats. Everything is simple to understand. You can tell just from looking at the Mani Katti weapon that is effective against infantry. What does that mean in the context of the game? It simply deals bonus damage; calculated as 3x the amount of damage you do (which has its own calculation.)

The best part? You don't even need to know this math in FE7. If you can double, it gives you a x2 indicator next to the might, which is calculated for you. Effective weapons will have glowing text. The weapon triangle is a relatively simple Rock Paper Scissors mechanic as well. This sort of simplicity is what makes the game’s combat intuitive for me to play even back in 2003. It has a high skill ceiling yet isn’t obtuse. The ultimate accessible strategy RPG, a direct descendant of the forefather of the genre itself.

Throughout the development of the series, Kaga noted that some people found the games too simple on a mechanical level; to this, he responded that "Well, that is an understandable response from the perspective of hardcore strategy buffs... [b]ut for Nintendo-made products, the baseline for the development is always that it be easy to play to the end, something “anyone can pick up and enjoy.” And I think that is a perfectly fine approach in its own right." Hironobu Sakaguchi, who had the very same design philosophy for Final Fantasy, would agree; and he was in fact a fan of the series himself.

I have great reverence for Final Fantasy Tactics and I think it is one of the greatest contributions to the entire corpus of strategy games. Just from playing the first few maps of Tactics I understood implicitly that this game had depth far and beyond anything produced during the SNES or GBA era of Fire Emblems. Tactics pushed the boundaries of the genre, both from a mechanical and storytelling perspective and I love the game. Yet I wouldn't recommend Tactics as an introduction to the genre to most people. Sure, it popularized the genre to people who didn't know anything about strategy RPGs prior, but I think Blazing Blade is in fact the real perfect introduction to the genre and works as a gateway into the wider world of the genre- which includes Final Fantasy Tactics in its unfiltered glory.

The units in Tactics are for the most part faceless generics, whom allow you complete freedom in how you shape you army. By contrast, every playable unit in Fire Emblem 7 has a face, a story and a unique role with stats to complement. These approaches both have merit. I love the generic soldier concept, especially in games without permadeath systems like the fantastic Fell Seal: Arbiter’s Mark. We have Final Fantasy Tactics to thank for that.

The strength of Blazing Blade's approach sacrifices individual unit freedom for the prospect of forming emotional bonds with the characters, whom have established backstories and personalities. I always enjoyed Serra’s love-hate relationship with Erk, even if both units were weaker and harder to train. I felt a strong connection to them as characters and had a vested interest in raising them within the army. As a kid, I simply wouldn't have been able to fully appreciate the gameplay freedom inherent in FFT’s generics in comparison versus the strong personalities of Erk and Serra. I certainly would not have felt as compelled to reset a map to save a generic, faceless unit if there was a permadeath mechanic.

The approach towards unit death in strategy games has always been traditionally one of the numbers game, especially in games that try to hew closer to realism. Julian Gollop taught the world with XCOM: UFO Defense that overconfidence invites disaster and we must learn to manage our losses- not everyone is going to make it out ok and sometimes your best soldiers have to be sacrificed to make it through the mission. Real-time strategy games are so often about throwing hordes at one another, because that is truly what war is.

Kaga took this approach with the initial games in the series because he "wanted to create a game where the player could get more emotionally invested in what’s happening." He wanted a refutation of the numbers game, and this is often highlighted by each character’s individual death quote if they are slain in battle. Any Fire Emblem player can tell you stories of the permadeath system and the psychological impetus it puts on your actions in this game. I remember running through Four-Fanged Offense in my first playthrough as a kid. Doing everything right, and I understood implicitly I had put in serious progress for my overall army's strength. All of that... just to lose my underleveled Guy to a terrifying guerilla attack from the boss. I was in tears of frustration. Then I reset the game and did it all again. I did that despite the fact I didn't even need Guy to continue on through the game. I did it because I was invested and I wanted him to be stronger and see it through to the end. I could've continued, replaced him in the army. But that wouldn't be Guy in my army. I couldn't just replace him with a identical, perhaps even stronger generic unit. He would be lost forever, and dead from a narrative standpoint. Lost as a casualty of war while the other characters pushed through to victory. I couldn't deal with that. This is something Fire Emblem really became famous for among gaming circles.

Permadeath is so contentious that the series itself changes its attitude towards it as it attempted to garner more mass appeal. Permadeath in the later entries like Three Houses is now locked behind “Classic” modes while consequences are far lighter in casual or normal gameplay difficulties. That feels like a poignant descriptor. The specter of permadeath and its affect on your gameplay is just quintessential Fire Emblem to me. There isn’t a better word to describe the experience of Fire Emblem 7 than “classic.”

"[Interviewer:] There is a scene where an important character dies along the way. What was the reason behind including this death scene?

[Tohru Narihiro:] This is a recurring theme throughout the series. The game is one with fighting, but is not just about fighting. The underlying theme of the series that we want people to feel is the foolishness and fickle nature of war and battle. This has been the continuous theme of the series."

Simply put, I don't think I would have been able to appreciate Final Fantasy Tactics as that kid back in 2003, and possibly not have forged the same relationship with strategy games (and games in general) as I did with Blazing Blade. I don't think that lessens Tactic’s impact as a seminal piece of art. I think it just speaks to why my connection to Fire Emblem 7 feels more significant.

Playing as an adult, the game hasn’t remotely lost its luster to me. I don’t even view this as a product of nostalgia- Fire Emblem 7 stands proud among its compatriots with a well designed ratio of difficulty, strong characterization, implicit depth, intuitive game design, and player expression. You can take the road of ruthless efficiency, sacrifice units if you have to, and achieve your low turn count mastery of the game. You can raise your favorite units and see them through to the end. You can do a little of both. The game is amazing regardless.

I love Fire Emblem, I love strategy RPGs and I have this game to thank for that.

I was always a huge Fire Emblem hater despite never having played a game, because the gameplay looked boring as shit and, above all else, for the petty reason that it started getting way too much representation on Smash Bros. with all those generic anime-looking swordsmen. I never EVER imagined I would give this franchise a try, but one day I was bored on the voice chat with some friends and decided to open the GBA app on NSO to play something. Then I saw Fire Emblem there. Decided to open it just for shits and giggles, to see how boring the gameplay would be. What happened next? I kept playing for 2-3 hours.

I got HOOKED! The first campaign of the game is basically just one massive tutorial, which I know is a bit divisive among the Fire Emblem community, but for someone like me who had no idea how to play the game and how its many mechanics worked, it was very welcome and it didn’t bother me one bit. It speaks to the quality of the game that even its tutorial had me engaged!

Once the game lets go of your hand is when the real fun begins and fun I sure had. Strategizing my way across maps and enemies that kept getting increasingly more difficult as I tried to keep all my units alive was some of the most invested I got into a game in 2023. Few things felt as satisfying as landing critical hits, getting a good level up, and beating a tough enemy unit by the skin of your teeth, especially during longer skirmishes that I REALLY didn’t want to reset in case a unit died (yes, I did end up resetting quite a few times when a unit I really cared for died, but sometimes I’d just let go).

I just couldn’t put that game down. I got so invested I started reading a lot of info online about the game and its inner mechanics that aren’t properly explained due to the limitations of it being a GBA game, such as its many classes, hidden battle stats and the support system. I always kept a sheet open while playing it to see the units I should try pairing together at the end of each turn to get extra support buffs and some endearing dialogue between them. While the story is your standard medieval fare, revolving around politics and dragons, the characters are what keep you interested in it, because this game has such a charming cast. Most of them have a great dynamic, especially the main trio, Eliwood, Lyn and Hector. I actively wanted to make them support each other to see what their interactions would be about, and they’d always put a smile on my face.

That’s why the permadeath mechanic is so devastating, because you start caring so much about some characters you don’t want to see them gone forever. They’re not just disposable units anymore, they’re people you want to protect as hard as you can. That’s why it’s so satisfying to see a character you love getting great level ups and upgrading to a new class and starting wrecking every enemy on their way. That’s what happened with my favorite unit, Florina. She became a goddess of destruction, raining despair over her opponents atop her white pegasus.

And I’d be remiss to not talk about the visuals of the game. Good lord, this game might just have one of the best sprite work of any GBA game. The battle animations are always a treat to watch, ESPECIALLY the critical hits. Their over-the-top animation is smooth and dynamic and packs such a punch, along with the crunchy sound effects that accompany it. It’s so goddamn satisfying. But yeah, that’s the story of how I went from being a pathetic hater of a franchise I had never even played a game of to someone who became invested enough to want to play every single Fire Emblem game.

It's The Legend of Zelda and it's really rad!
Those creatures from Ganon are pretty bad!
Octoroks, tektites and leevers too
But with your help, our hero pulls through!
Yeah, Go Link, Yeah, Get Zelda!
Wikki Wikki Wick!

Shigeru Miyamoto has gone on record saying that Mario “isn’t the kind of game you necessarily have to finish, it should be fun to just pick up and play,” and as a kid I often really would boot it up solely to jump around Bob-Omb Battlefield for a bit and feel myself or whatever. A pattern I’ve observed with a lot of gamers is that, as they get older, they slowly prioritize finishing games over simply the inherent fun of playing them — and while I definitely feel that was accurate for my late teens/early twenties as well, I’ve since returned to craving those more innate pleasures.

It’s wild how much Nintendo got right about Mario’s animations and the overall sound design on this first attempt, conveying that perfect sweetspot between weight and nimbleness, something I honestly don’t get as much out of 64's successors. Similarly, the level design also manages to find this nebulous since-unmatched middle-ground between open-ness and tight pacing, with many of the stages presenting you with vertical, spiral-shaped layouts, made up of multiple digestible paths that intersect so seamlessly that you never stop to think about them as anything other than one cohesive whole.

Aspects that feel like obvious limitations, like being booted out of the level when grabbing a Star or the rigid camera, end up aiding the game’s pacing and overall structure the more you actually think about it. The way you bounce between different paintings within Peach’s castle, completely at your own leisure, mirrors how you tackle the obstacles inside those worlds; loose and free-form and whichever way seems enjoyable to you at the moment without even having to think about it. It all seems so simple, and yet I’m still waiting for another platformer that is this immediately fun and endlessly replayable.

(5-year-old's review, typed by her dad)

You get to go on a slide and at the end you gotta beat Bowser, because you get to MOVE and MOVE if there's turns, and also there's a slide in the snowy place!

[Dad's note: She would use the Wii U gamepad to go do the secret slide in Peach's Castle over and over again, every day for the entire summer of 2020]