Vaan stands as the most unique protagonist in the history of the Final Fantasy series. His role, influence and importance in the story is a stark difference than what came before and after, and this change was jarring for many. However, despite being labeled by some as the teenager stand-in, how he acts and does is at wild odds against what we’ve come to expect from similarly-typed characters in Final Fantasy stories.

I am not here to convince you of the greatness of Vaan, I simply do not care. However, Vaan has things to say and does represent things that are worth discussing. How many times have I seen similar statements such as “Vaan could be erased from the story and nothing would change.”. Voicing concerns does not have to happen out of ignorance or a blatant disregard of everything the story builds up to make claims such as this.

But to write this article for the sake of proving the importance of Vaan is a fool’s errand. It does not help me nor does it help you in understanding how his character was built and why he matters. I want to concern myself with a more important matter that has piqued my interest recently.

A podcast airing an episode on Final Fantasy XII had a host saying an interesting question. “Why Vaan didn’t keep on with his quest to avenge his brother?”. This question is interesting for many things: it was used in the context of how Vaan could have been improved in keeping the drama going for a much longer period into the game, but also because revenge itself is a popular and often used motivation of many characters in the series. Vaan broke that mold because his revenge ended up being short-lived in the course of the game.

While Vaan remaining hellbent on revenge would have added much more drama, it would not have been better writing of his character. It is something that is inherently at odds with what he is and represents. Vaan having the maturity and clarity to forgive and forget and reframe his need for vengeance for a need to seek freedom for himself and others is seen as a sign of weak writing, when it is its strongest point. Understanding Vaan is also understanding Final Fantasy XII at its core.

I consider the game to be summed around three critical themes that surrounds the story. Vaan represents two of those: the theme of family, of past and of freedom. These three core themes are the most important, because they are present in every character to a precise level. Gabranth is the central piece embodying these three themes, mainly because his unique position as the antagonist makes it all the more powerful, but Vaan is its direct contrast. FFXII uses these two characters to show parallels in how different paths have been taken and how they panned out. Vaan being the first character to show signs of changes is all the more important to deliver the inner conflicts that binds all these characters together.

Let’s begin from the start as it is an important setup of his character. Vaan lost his parents five years before the events of the game due to a plague. Vaan’s brother, Reks, was the only one left to take care of his younger brother. He was fourteen years old, Vaan was twelve. Three years after that, Reks joined the war as a soldier of Dalmasca and was brutally murdered. Vaan had lost his entire family. It’s important to understand that Vaan was the one who suffered the most among the characters in your party. He is the one who would have the most reason to be consumed by rage, having lost everything and everyone. But he shows himself to be better than this.

Vaan’s hatred is shown in depth. He is stricken with grief, and tries to cope however he can to keep his mind off of it. His dream of becoming a Sky Pirate is directly shown to be a coping mechanism for what he went through, which has obvious connotations of seeking freedom, though he does not know this.

But Vaan knows that he is powerless. The annexation of the Empire has made things even worse for Vaan and all the youth of Dalmasca. In true Ivalician fashion, the story of Vaan is closely linked to the socio-economic environment that he is a part of. Rabanastre offers no opportunities, no job prospect and no future to look forward to. The only thing left is to choose between oppression or death. His only escape is in the form of Migelo, a humble but successful merchant who purposefully employs young people for them to find respite and not be stuck to thievery.

However Vaan’s hatred fuels him. He grinds to become a better fighter, he steals to stick it up to the Empire and often gets lumped up in situations that are highly dangerous in a need to make a difference. But one man cannot go against the full might of the Empire. His future was already sealed before he even realized it: he would have been sent in the Nalbina Dungeons to rot until he dies. A death sentence that awaits most of the Dalmascan’s youth until only the people that submits to the Archadian Empire are left. That was all that awaited him in this life, and this is exactly what happened.

His quest to steal a treasure from the royal palace did end up with him sent to the Dungeons. He even gets into a brawl with a band of murderous Seeq. This specific scene is interesting because it exactly shows where he would have met his end in every circumstances that his socio-economic status would have allowed. This was his future.

However, something different happened.

Vaan has met Balthier and Fran shortly before that. Both of them Sky Pirates. They have allowed Vaan to have his first taste of freedom. Suddenly, the inescapable dungeons offered a different path than death. A path that has lead to an even bigger freedom than escaping:

A path to the Kingslayer. Reks’ murderer.

The opportunity that he was given to meet Reks’ alleged murderer is huge, as Vaan’s fate is inextricably linked to Reks’ demise. Basch was the source of his hatred, of everything bad that happened to him, and all the suffering that he and everyone he cares about has to go through. Here he was, a dead man somehow very much still alive. You can see Vaan letting go with of his pent-up grief and rage upon meeting him.

“Please get me out. For the sake of Dalmasca” Basch says. Vaan understands it as if his brother’s death was anything else than senseless.

Reks’ death is the center of Vaan’s development as a character. At the core of Reks’ death, and something that ate Vaan from the inside was that there was no meaning, no point. Reks “died” in the very last day of the war, when the conflict was already sealed in favor of the Empire. In Vaan’s point of view, it didn’t make sense that it happened. How could it make sense?

Reks did not actually die in the last day. He was stabbed but kept alive in order be a witness against Basch (he did not know it was Gabranth who stabbed him). The scenes of Vaan and Reks in a hospital room were real. Reks became catatonic, and died soon after. In fact, the story even implies that he was tortured, as he was considered as a potential abettor to the conspiracy to kill King Raminas. His catatonic self might have been a result of the torture he endured, and ultimately what has led to his death. Vaan himself was conflicted on whether or not Reks was also a traitor to the kingdom. The only reason he could find was that Basch had tricked him into doing it.

So his brother enlists right at the end, and Vaan sees him withering in front of him a few days later, now considered as a traitor.

His brother’s honor, pride, body, soul and life was all stripped from him.

All of this for what? Nothing.

This is far more than any teenager could endure.

On top of that, the Empire doesn’t even allow Vaan to mourn Reks or pay his respects to him. The Galbana lilies he picked up after slaying the Rogue Tomato were crushed by a chocobo for the parade after being told by an Imperial soldier the chocobo was worth more than his life. That they should not be tainted with the stench of peasants (we learn later that chocobos in Ivalice are known to smell, making it an even bigger insult.).

Upon hearing a caged Basch saying he needs to get out for the “sake of Dalmasca”. It indicates that there was a point to what Basch did. That there was a goal that made enough sense to understand what happened to Reks. For Vaan, it didn’t, so he lashes out.

Even hearing upon Basch’s side of the story of what happened that day, Vaan cannot believe him. How could he? The Empire framed Basch as the traitor to an entire kingdom. He had always believed him to be the source of all his suffering.

“[My brother] trusted you, and he lost everything”

Saying Reks lost everything is very interesting in Vaan’s case, he doesn’t frame himself as the one who lost someone. His brother was the one who lost everything. Reks’ legacy was erased. He was known as a great man who did everything to help his brother alone in a harsh world for three years of his life as a teenager. Now he’s a traitor.

Vaan, upon saying he did not believe his story has Basch stating that if not him, he should believe in his brother. This is another thing that ticks Vaan off again. Basch sheds light and make sense of something that didn’t. Note Basch’s use of “I’m sorry” earlier in this cutscene as that comes up often later on.

Vaan got to spend time with Basch, who shows to be an honorable and dependable man. Fast forward a bit as they escape the dungeon, and he meets Basch again. Vaan finally knows the last piece of why Reks died, he gets to understand something that would have shackled him for the rest of his life:

“The Fates have willed it” says Basch. Reks’ death was nothing more than a bad coincidence of being at the wrong place at the wrong time. Did it make any more sense for Vaan? Not really, but at least he understood why it happened. It was Fate.

This same Fate that has lead to Reks’ demise is the Fate that has given the opportunity for Vaan to meet the person he hated the most in his life and have him set on a path that doesn’t lead to his own destruction. “It’s more than coincidence” says Basch. “It’s annoying” Vaan answers.

We’re at a critical junction for Vaan. He now knows why his brother died and it is the first step to his own freedom. The rest is solely up to him, on whether he keeps tapping on his desire for revenge, or do something else.

This is where the next cutscene happens.

Vaan and Basch sees orphans playing on the streets of Rabanastre. Vaan tells his story, about his parents, the plague, the war. Basch keeps apologizing.

“You don’t have to keep apologizing” says Vaan. “Really, it’s all right. I know it wasn’t your fault.

I see that now. You didn’t kill my brother.”

[a cut happens that shows the Imperial flag in Rabanastre]

“It was the Empire.”

This is where Vaan understands that his anger was misplaced. Purposefully manufactured by the Empire to shift the blame away from them and into one single man. It makes sense too, it’s easier to hate a person than it is to hate an entire structure. The fall of Dalmasca was the result of one single man, it was the perfect setup and excuse for Vayne to have all cards in his deck to make the invasion as smooth as it could be.

But the Empire was indeed at the source of all Vaan’s suffering.

But he isn’t the only one to suffer, to which Vaan ends the conversation with something very interesting:

“My brother trusted you. And he was right.”.

At that moment, he does not just forgive Basch, he helps him in turn by easing Basch’s guilt. He does not want him to suffer needlessly for something he understands was not of his doing. Basch until then kept apologizing, even for things he knew he didn’t do. His way of repentance is to accept all the hatred that goes his way. He isn’t interested in clearing his name, he is interesting in freeing his country.

This specific sentence is powerful to show how Vaan’s hatred has been replaced with kindness. He has the clarity to understand that this is not how he wants things to end with Basch. Without him understanding that Reks did not die because of him, but also that Reks did the right thing. He removes the blame entirely. Vaan decided that Basch should not be made to suffer any more than he already had.

At this moment, Vaan shows several things: he is much more mature for his age than what we are led to believe. How couldn’t he be considering the environment he has lived in? He had to grow as a matter of survival. But he also shows signs of change within himself. The respite that Basch has given him in finding out the truth is a respite that he gives in kind in forgiving him, and understanding he is a man he respects through his own kindness.

With the truth laid bare, and his ability to understand who was truly responsible for this. It is often asked what was the point of Vaan remaining in the party. What would follow for the story are things that are above him, above someone of his standing. But why would he not be in the party?

His situation did not change. Oppression still exists. Even Migelo, a merchant, and the closest person that would be a father figure to Vaan has to bow and grovel in front of the Empire. To remain here would be to keep living in shame, treated as less than a person, as less than human. It would be fine if this shame was only for himself to bear, but what Vaan despises the most is that the others he cares about has to live in it too.

What Vaan seeks isn’t revenge anymore, it is freedom. His dream of being a Sky Pirate is only his roundabout way of seeking this autonomy that those pirates embodies. His first step to freedom was to know the truth, now it is to liberate himself, and his new goal is to liberate his close ones.

This goal is similar but ultimately different than the goal of Basch, who seeks to restore his country, or Ashe, who seeks to restore her kingdom. Vaan’s goal is not far-reaching, it is intimate, personal. His ambition extends to his circle. The value he places in his country or the kingdom is far lesser than the value he places on the people he knows. On the kids roaming the streets, on the shopkeepers that he meets, of all the people he encounters in his daily life and are in the same situation as him. They were his world.

Vaan represents them. He represents them not as a whole, but as various individuals with their own needs and dreams. And he wants to set them free.

Had Vaan not existed, it would have been a grave mistake. A mistake that is already identifiable in another Final Fantasy game released later. The structure of Ivalice is not just one of a regular fantasy world, it’s a set of structures with rules and social standings. People occupy standings where there is a deep understanding from the story that their experiences are different. A knight doesn’t view the world as Vaan does, a princess is even more disconnected to the plight of her people not only because she lacks the insight but because her very position comes with a set of life experiences that is so different that she cannot connect with them. An Ivalician story is about structure at its core.

To not have a character like Vaan existing is to erase the most crucial part of a story about people just to focus on power. That is to say, to craft a story with no context, to frame the people that populates the country as nothing more than a prop. They become the staging that allows a story to happen that features infinitely more interesting folks that have infinitely higher social standings, or are the one featured in legends of immemorial past, as those concerned wallow in their suffering to reclaim what they are owed, to play the destiny that was already written. The common folks becomes the window dressing, to dive deeper into them is to crumble as a story. And the writers simply don’t.

Final Fantasy XV does exactly that. This is a story with no Vaan, in which you get to exclusively experience the point of view of royalty as they try to reclaim, not liberate. The moment-to-moment drama revolves around Noctis’ birthright as the hero of legend, as whether or not he is fit to rule with his current lack of power. The plight of his people is only helping to prop him up as the tragic hero who suffers, but there is no ideology, no understanding of his position. He is right because he is the king, he is wrong because he isn’t strong enough to take what is his yet. Everything in-between is the cream on top. His goal is noble and pure because his very position says so.

Jared’s death, an individual you most likely forgot about (I wonder why?) only becomes the motivation for Noctis to raze two imperial camps in his quest for revenge. We do not feel for Jared, we feel for Noctis’ suffering upon losing Jared. Something has to fuel his rage, and so the people suffers for him to have an opportunity to look good. And it works, because fantasy stories teaches us that if you do not have power, then you do not deserve to exist. If you are not special, then you aren’t interesting.

But Final Fantasy XII, at its core, understands that telling a story about people has to feature the people that are concerned. People who are not special. People who does not have power, but in which their importance is not only crucial, it is the bedrock in which a story about people has to be told. At a fundamental level, if the importance of common people can be summed up in the matter of a few words, there is failure. Even worse, there is erasure.

To erase Vaan is to erase the story itself. Where else would you have learned how the suffering of someone living under oppression and being utterly crushed not just by oppression itself, but by wanting to do something and being absolutely powerless to do so? Where would you have learned of what it is to suffer? To make me believe that this one prince is able to know that because he suffers too is preposterous, but in FFXV and in many other games, it is the norm and it is accepted as valid. Gladiolus confronts Noctis in a moment of weakness: “Are you a man of royal blood or aren’t you?”, “Of course, I am” answers Noctis. Being worthy to rule is to be powerful. And that’s all there ever is to it.

But Final Fantasy XII wouldn’t have any of it. The very idea of power is explored and redefined.

Later in the story in what might be the most important scene in the game, Vaan gets to share a moment with Ashe, the destitute would-be queen of Dalmasca. Nowhere in the game has the gap between them been shown more than in this intimate moment.

“It’s strange” Vaan says. “Before, I didn’t even know what you looked like. And the prince – I barely knew there was a prince”.

And so much has been said with just a few words.

The presence of Vaan is absolutely crucial to create a story of intersections, one where the motivations of Ashe, who is indeed key to the story progression by her very position are constantly challenged not only by her misplaced want of retaking Her Rightful Place, but by a need of understanding why should she think she is able to lead her people. They color the journey by showing poverty, misery, imperialism, brutality and even discrimination through a point of view that would simply not be as effective if Vaan were to not exist. This is why the opening section of Rabanastre is strong, it sets the human side to the political intrigue that would follow. It is no different than the introduction of Final Fantasy IV, where the introspection of Cecil’s belief in his king are questioned by the soldiers under his command. It is these nobodies that are directly spreading discord in Cecil’s good-natured heart, to understand where his allegiance lies. Vaan is that nobody, forgotten but crucial. An Ivalician story is also a story of the people on the sidelines of history.

But at this very moment, Ashe was his nobody.

Here, Vaan voices Ashe’s full extent of her powerlessness, not because she hasn’t reclaimed her throne, nor because her standing doesn’t make her powerful (she is), but because she is of no consequence to his life. Whether or not she retakes the throne has nothing to do with how his life would improve, as she isn’t what will liberate him and his friends from the Empire. Ashe doesn’t help Vaan, he helps her.

Their bonding doesn’t come from being from the same place, it comes from the one thing they share in common: the loss of a loved one (Prince Rasler in her case). They do not share unity through country and there is no allegiance to be had in this case. The rift always exists, only their common goal remain. This is first step that leads to their mutual understanding of each other, the first step in Ashe understanding that power is not the weapon of destruction that she seeks, it’s the ability to learn what she is fighting for, what it is she intends to reclaim.

Vaan talks about Reks. “He enlisted, right at the end. But for what? He knew he couldn’t win.”

“To protect something” Ashe replies.

“How can he protect anything when he’s dead? Was it different for Prince Rasler? Did that make sense?”

Ashe has nothing to say.

“Hating the Empire, getting revenge. It’s all I ever thought about. But I never did anything about it. I mean, I realized there was nothing I could do. It made me feel hollow, alone. And then I’d miss my brother. I’d say stuff like ‘I’m gonna be a sky pirate’ or some other stupid thing. Just anything to keep my mind off it.

I was just — I was running away.

I needed to get away from his death. That’s why I followed you.”

He pauses.

“Know what? I’m through with it. I’m through running. I’m ready to find my purpose. To find some real answers — some reasons. If I stick with you, I think I will.”

“I wish I knew.” says Ashe.

Vaan lays everything bare. Through their connection of what they lost, Vaan confesses what ails him, how he coped, and the reason for it. He finally understands what he wants to be and what he wants to do outside of the shackles of the Empire and the lack of future that he had barely escaped from a few days prior. A commoner said so much about himself and his life, not because of what she represents and what she needs to achieve as her birthright, but as a person.

And thus Ashe grows. She learns from him.

It is the final piece of what the Fates had in store for him. Speaking with the daughter of the king that Reks was accused of being a part of his assassination gave him the confidence to turn a new page. To become better and – to his ignorance – pushes the people around it to become better too.

To have the clarity to know so much about oneself, to voice it clearly and to learn to be better is a sign of maturity that Vaan displays but critics claims isn’t there. Vaan grows, constantly. He is given a new kind of freedom, the one where he can express himself with people he knows can understand him. He bridges the rift between people, acting as a linchpin. He makes things happen at a personal level that is considerably more important than what happens on the grand stage of Ivalice and leads to the success of the party in understanding what it is that they seek, and what it is to succeed at seeking it.

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In the climax of the game, Gabranth is more than just the enemy. He is the embodiment of all the themes of the game clashing against him. The final barrier that needs to be brought down, taken to an extreme. Gabranth is everything Vaan could have become: stricken with grief, in perpetual suffering, hellbent on revenge and with a future that is only filled with death. Gabranth is Vaan from another place in Ivalice. One example from many in this harsh world.

And so Ashe is tasked with the hardest choice she has to make, to wield power against power with the stone, something she always wanted, or to discard the stone and everything she stood for until that point.

“No, we cannot escape the past” Gabranth exclaims. “What is your past, Daughter of Dalmasca? Did you not swear revenge? Do the dead not demand it?”.

Gabranth puts into words what Ashe has always sought.

Vaan picks up a sword, ready to confront Gabranth. She looks at Vaan, he looks back.

Ashe now understands what she is fighting for. She sets her own path of freedom by understanding what power is. This understanding wasn’t immediate, it was set in motion by Vaan’s honesty, by the life experiences that he shared. The maturity, kindness and determination that only a person in his unique position could provide.

As she exclaims what it is she really seeks, she looks directly at Vaan again, her eyes filled with determination. “I will discard the Stone!”.

“You claim no need of power?” answers Gabranth. “What of your broken kingdom’s shame? The dead demand justice!”

“You’re wrong.” Vaan strikes back. “What would change? I can’t help my brother now. My brother’s gone. He’s dead!”

The full realization of Vaan’s growth displays itself at its fullest here. By confronting Gabranth, he is confronting the person he once was. Both born of a similar standing but with very different paths. The broken husk that is Gabranth, who had effectively stopped living, forever shackled by his past meets his match against Vaan, who had allowed himself to live. In a way of finally understanding Vaan, Ashe picks up where he left off:

“Even with power, we cannot change what has passed. What is done, is done.”

In a powerful statement, Ashe drops the stone and rolls right in front of Gabranth’s feet. The biggest instrument of power known to Ivalice, one that would have reclaimed her sovereignty had been discarded in front of the man who would have changed everything in his life had he gotten it for himself. Ashe, through Vaan, has found her answer by killing her past, in the same way that Vaan did through Reks’ sacrifice. A complete, unequivocal rejection of power.

Power is something that is often used in Final Fantasy stories. May it be by the special powers that they have (Terra’s Esper form), or by the tools that they receive (FF9’s Invincible is about using this weapon of destruction to save the world, FF10 unearths the airship of another era to go against Sin). But the party of FF12 ends with as much tangible power as they had in the beginning: nothing. In their last ditch to save Dalmasca, they leave with a small ship that is utterly microscopic compared against the full might of the gigantic Bahamut airship, and faces Vayne only armed with the knowledge they learned. It was enough to put an end to everything.

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The journey in Final Fantasy XII is one of learning. To understand different perspectives. To show that they all matter in a way that encompasses everyone from all walks of life. Their path to freedom was organic, measured and positive. They did not seek change to reclaim what are theirs, they sought to restore their lives and bring stability. The change did not come from a world-changing event, it came from within. This change brought them to success. This philosophy even allowed for Gabranth to change, to know what it is that he wanted to see in this world. He wanted to protect Larsa. His allegiance did not lie with the Empire, it lies on the kind and peace-seeking Larsa. In his final moments, he had allowed himself to look towards the future.

Vaan is the most critical person that allows it to happen. His own story is the flag, the standard-bearer of the cause they embodied that reflects on everyone else within and outside the party. They wouldn’t –couldn’t– have succeeded had he not been there. A man so bereft of power and relevance due to his very status as a commoner compared to the grand political machinations of Ivalice should not have been so instrumental in liberating the people of Dalmasca, but he did. Vaan paved the way in accepting to learn and to forgive. Everyone else followed in his footsteps, and everyone else started offering the space where they could learn from each other in ways that were as liberating as freeing a kingdom. They were finally free.

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In many occasions, Ashe meets a ghostly version of her dead husband. A machination of the gods to lead her astray, profiting from her need for revenge. Vaan would see it too, albeit in the form of his own brother. After he spoke to Ashe in the bridge of Jahara, confiding his resolve to become better and to be ready to learn, the ghost reappears again in the Stillshrine of Miriam. Ashe sees her husband again. She turns to Vaan.

“Tell me.” she says. “Did you see him again?”

“I didn’t.” Vaan answers.

“Not a thing. Not even my brother.

Not…not anything.”.