As I’ve played through Final Fantasy 14, one common refrain from a lot of the NPCs every time I hit what should be a lull between expansions is just how tired my character must be and wouldn’t I enjoy a break. Most of the time, I’ve gone immediately from that “go relax for a bit” end-of-expansion message to the “You look so rested after your downtime!” start-of-new-content message, which isn’t really a problem since I can acknowledge that the game was not meant to be played in so compressed a fashion as I have, but it has always struck me as kind of funny. It took on a bit of a different note during Endwalker, though, as the game started to build in little moments of downtime and inaction for the primary NPCs and your player character, focused as it was on the development of those relationships in preparation for the finale, almost all of which were far too short or actually cut short by events proceeding without us. So, this time, when I hit the end of the expansion and was told to go rest, I didn’t pick up the next mission. I, personally, took most of a week to rest and do whatever tickled my fancy rather than continue my constant grind of progression through the game’s quests. Last weekend, though, I started dipping my toes back into the expansion content, focusing more on the side activities than the story quests that I knew would start setting up whatever is coming next. One of them in particular caught my attention (mostly because one of my friends started on it immediately and her talk about it made it seem like a lot of fun), so I made sure to set some time aside for starting the Island Sanctuary process.

It is worth noting that this quest is immediately billed to you as a huge favor that one of the main NPCs is doing for you. Thanks to her success as a merchant, she’s bought you an island for you to go relax on! It’s a getaway, as far from all the responsibilities of being a hero as anyone could possibly get and a guaranteed break from the demands the world at large seems intent on handing you. You’re told to be prepared for some sun and fun and then given the location of the boat you’re going to take to get to this remote island. So you go there, you get on the boat with this NPC (a friend who has been with you since the beginning, almost) and then you finally learn what’s really going on. The issues of money are sidestepped entirely, though it is heavily implied that your friend didn’t actually pay anything for this island. There’s talk of proposals, submissions, and a naval power trying to find a new source of income now that sanctioned piracy is no longer viable (all the “enemy” nations they preyed upon are no longer enemies), and then your friend lays out the real reason all of this is even happening at all. Her proposal got accepted (and got you this island) because it is the proof-of-concept for an equitable version of island ownership/caretaking. Any rich jerk could take over an island and do some economic development on it, but that would further concentrate wealth in the hands of those people and not actually provide any opportunities for the poor or disenfranchised. So you got volunteered to head up the effort to prove that anyone so inclined can develop a largely un-touched island into an economic powerhouse without needing a huge amount of outside resources.

I don’t know about you, but that doesn’t sound very relaxing to me. I mean, it’s a video game and I ostensibly play those to unwind and relax and have fun, but I can’t help but feel like I was lied to about what this was going to be. I mean, outside of the game, I knew that there was some kind of economy thing going on with these islands (there’s a channel for crafting in my guild’s discord and there’s almost always a new post about what stuff you should be making to maximize your income every single day in there), but I didn’t think I’d be doing as much work as I am. Constantly going to gather more materials to order upgrades or make new buildings, managing farms and pastures full of animals, and then trying to decorate and manage the space so I can actually relax in it some day. Assuming that I’m not tired of the island and the brand new grind by the time I get there, anyway. All while under the pressure that, narratively, an entire country is looking to you to prove that just anyone, regardless of their economic station, can turn an uninhabitated island into a river of gold. Or, in this case, a river of special shells that are used in the place of standard currency so you can’t bring your outside wealth into what is supposed to be a money-free proof-of-concept.

There’s nothing really wrong here. I’m not particularly bothered by it. I just couldn’t help but notice how quickly this entire premise went from “get away and enjoy yourself” to “prove that not only the rich can make something out of one of these islands so that other people without tons of money can do this if they want to.” That’s a pretty heavy responsibility, even if it only exists narratively. I mean, mechanically, it’s really difficult to mess up the island. Even if you run out of “money” and can’t afford more upgrades or new buildings and don’t stay on top of managing your island’s resources, you can always start over again just by collecting a bunch of stuff and turning the excess into money. And even if you’re not super active, a lot of the systems on the island are set up to be checked on daily at most or at least just once a week. No matter what you do, you can eventually reach the end goal of having a fully developed island. It might take a super long time, but it’s not like doing it with optimal efficiency is going to be that much faster unless you spend all your time gathering materials to grind for experience points, one ten-point allocation at a time. I don’t know. I’m sure I’ll enjoy it more as a getaway when I’ve unlocked enough stuff to actually get everything settled a way I like (and, you know, figure out what kind of furniture and stuff I want to decorate it with), but right now I’m not having a bad time even though I definitely don’t feel like this was the R&R Island Time I was originally pitched.