Now available off the Nintendo 3DS, and this time sans the creepy limited edition Agnès figure, which I am pretty sure stares into my soul every time I glimpse at her, Square Enix and Silicon Studio’s classicly designed RPG Bravely Default has been remastered and re-released as a launch title for the Nintendo 3DS titled Bravely Default Flying Fairy HD Remaster. Having been initially released in October 2012, it has been more than a decade since the game was last brought to store shelves, with the potential of the game otherwise being lost to time, given the subsequent discontinuation of the console on which it was initially released. Thankfully with the launch of the Nintendo Switch 2 last month, a proper effort was made to port the complete original game across to the newest gen platform, with graphical improvements, a range of tweaks and a few optional goodies to take advantage of the latest hardware (arguably better than Nintendo Switch 2 Welcome Tour does). But does Bravely Default fare just as well now as it did back then? Read on to find out!
Despite its clear lineage to the early days of the Final Fantasy series through tropes and approach to narrative delivery, Bravely Default Flying Fairy HD Remaster once again wastes no time in carving its own identity. The opening moments are once again despair-filled, as the game’s world, Luxendarc, is quickly thrust into turmoil as the Wind Crystal is shattered and the hometown of the protagonist, Tiz, is swallowed by a chasm. From there, the tried‑and‑true “restore the four crystals” quest unfolds, but it’s filtered through a surprisingly chatty script and a likeable quartet of leads: the earnest farm‑boy Tiz, ever‑dutiful Vestal Agnès, feisty turn‑coat Edea and walking pick‑up line Ringabel (whose amnesia just barely excuses the flirting). Their road‑trip banter, served in optional Party Chats, gives the adventure warmth. Sure, there is a nation at risk if they don’t complete their adventure – but the actual journey is the friends they made along the way. Ultimately, the premise may read like RPG comfort food, yet the delivery feels fresh enough, especially once a mid‑game twist pokes holes in our crystal‑worshipping comfort zone.
Yet the writing wasn’t without its issues. The pacing of Bravely Default Flying Fairy moves forward at a brisk pace on some occasions, and on others slows down to a crawl or, ultimately, leaves you retreading explored ground needlessly, which, granted, could be due to the limitations of the original Nintendo 3DS not allowing as expansive a world to explore, but is no less training. Thankfully, the party dynamic carries the weight, and there is a good balance between earnest JRPG melodrama, tongue-in-cheek humour, and some occasional surprises, which left me wishing I could experience it for the first time all over again.
There’s no denying that Bravely Default was born on hardware far humbler than the Switch 2, yet its design language and general aesthetic made it not only a delight to look at but one of the console’s best games graphically. The remaster makes a convincing case for itself in existing, as the development team took the original content and made it shine. Towns now unfurl like living watercolour dioramas – think story‑book pop‑ups preserved in 60 fps – and the expanded 16:9 frame finally lets the art team’s minute brushstrokes breathe. Character models are sharper too, for better and worse: costumes glitter with extra charm, but the chibi faces can look a tad too much like porcelain dolls under harsher lighting and enhanced visuals. The stereoscopic wow‑factor of the 3DS is, of course, lost to flat‑screen reality, but clever depth‑of‑field tricks keep scenes from feeling paper‑thin. Meanwhile, the overhauled single‑screen UI is snappy and legible – even when you’re juggling four Brave stacks and a to‑do list of status effects.
Bravely Default’s soundtrack is anything but shy. Composer REVO fuses orchestral flourishes with guitar‑driven bravado, producing battle themes that are heavier and rockier than one would expect from the narrative (The standard battle theme is a certified banger that never gets old!). Town tracks lean folk‑fantasy, and each crystal’s dungeon gets its brooding motif. Special Moves crank things up further: trigger one and the BGM shifts to a bespoke rock anthem, its runtime doubling as your temporary buff timer. It’s a clever mechanical‑musical handshake, and the new Luxencheer Rhythm Catch mini‑game doubles as a cheeky “greatest‑hits” jukebox… although the actual implementation of that is questionable.
On the voice option front, the remaster keeps the dual‑track approach, and while the mix isn’t what I would call the finest, that only lends to the charm of the overall game experience. Performances land more often than they miss: Tiz still sounds earnestly wide‑eyed, Agnès balances piety with quiet steel, and Ringabel’s shameless flirtations benefit from a pitch‑perfect roguish lilt (your mileage on those pick‑up lines may vary).
Bravely Default’s beating heart is its Brave/Default system, a delicious little economy of risk and reward that turns vanilla turn‑based scraps into tense, pacey puzzles. Each combatant starts with one Brave Point – that’s good for a single action – but at any time you can Default to save up and bank extra BP, or cash them all in to Brave four times in a single burst – wioth the possibility of players going into debt and being unable to act again until replenished (one per term). Early trash mobs practically beg you to swing for the fences and end things in one glorious alpha‑strike; bosses, meanwhile, weaponise the same rules right back at you, baiting greedy players with counter‑windows and surprise quadruple‑casts.
That flexibility explodes once Bravely Default’s Job system comes into play, granting players access to up to over 20 different classes as the game progresses, which draws from all the RPG classes – from the standard Monk and Black/White Mage, to some more unique options. However, you start the game as essentially a Freelancer, which for the first hour or so, leaves you stuck against some of the most challenging bosses in the game, as you can barely do anything to deal damage against them – something which remains unchanged from the original. But once you have a few classes under your belt, the implementation is solid, with part of the fun being discovering how the classes synergise together to find what works for you.
Outside of the aforementioned introductory bosses from hell, the breadth of classes does demand a little – or a lot – of grinding. However, the remaster does a few things to alleviate the fatigue. A press of the minus button lets you jack the encounter rate from 50 % to 200 % (and later 400 %) or kill it entirely; Auto‑battle further allows you to program in a set of specific moves to make defeating common mobs quicker and more brainless. Throw in recommended level signage outside every dungeon, and a few other odds and ends, and you can calibrate the challenge curve to taste.
Outside the arena, side systems knit the experience. Rebuilding Norende turns stray passing souls into labourers who unlock weapon shops, Special‑move modifiers, and rare consumables. Online Abilink and friend‑summons return, letting you borrow a buddy’s souped‑up Ringabel to nuke a clutch fight or lend your Agnès to strangers. It’s asynchronous, unobtrusive, and genuinely handy. Additionally, while this system was initially built with the Nintendo 3DS’ StreetPass in mind, and does lack the same level of ingenuity it had back in the day, this was nevertheless a good way to implement the feature without greatly overhauling it.
The Switch 2’s exclusive extras are less essential and ultimately novelties, but they are still decent experiences if you want a demonstration of what the Joy-Con 2’s mouse-like capabilities are. Luxencheer Rhythm Catch is a breezy glow‑stick rhythm diversion that doubles as a love letter to REVO’s soundtrack, while Ringabel’s Panic Cruise turns the Joy‑Con mouse gimmick into a frantic air‑ship obstacle course. Both shower you with tokens used to buy costumes, weapons, and a few lovely accessories to help get you through the game even quicker. They are a fun way to pass the time. Still, neither is essential nor particularly memorable to the experience, and it doesn’t feel like much development time was dedicated to either.
When all is braved and defaulted, Bravely Default Flying Fairy HD Remaster proves that Square Enix’s decade-old gem hasn’t lost its lustre. If anything, the fresh coat of HD paint, quality-of-life improvements, and a new audience only make its facets shimmer brighter. Luxendarc’s crystal calamity still sings thanks to a personable cast and REVO’s roof‑raising score; the environments feel like they were remastered from a game on a platform much more graphically intensive than the 3DS, and the Brave/Default + Job alchemy remains a simple yet effective take on a tried-and-tested RPG battle system. Yes, the pacing wobbles here and there, and the extra Nintendo Switch mini-games remain unchanged, and are… there at best; this is a remaster worth picking up if you seeking a rewarding, in-depth experience within the console’s launch library. Now… let’s hope we don’t have to wait until the Nintendo Switch 3 for a remastered version of its sequel, Bravely Second: End Layer.
Final Score for Bravely Default Flying Fairy HD Remaster
A digital Nintendo Switch 2 review code for Bravely Default Flying Fairy HD Remaster was provided by Australian distributor Bandai Namco Entertainment Australia to facilitate this review.
Bravely Default Flying Fairy HD Remaster is now available physically and digitally on the Nintendo Switch 2.
