Secret of Mana

One of my strongest video game nostalgialators comes from the Super Nintendo classic “Secret of Mana”. I first played this game with my 2 best friends at the time, Cole and Troy. It was rented on a whim before a sleepover… the box art appealed to our early teen sensibilities and it seemed like the 3 of us would be able to play it together—a rare feat for a console-based role playing game in that era.

We barely even started the game from the beginning — after realizing you start with only one player, we promptly hit the reset button and loaded up one of the battery backup saves instead. In it, we found ourselves near the end of the game, with beefed up characters, a wide array of spells and weapons to use and plethora of cool looking monsters to fight. Essentially my first real exposure to the game was that random strangers’ save file, as we continued to grind away all night killing enemies and checking out the special moves available when using each of the weapons.

In the months that passed, I had become increasingly more obsessed with returning to the game and giving it another shot from the beginning. After learning that my younger brother’s friend had a copy, I attempted to wheel and deal a game-trade scenario which would result in me losing access to the mean streets of Contra 3: The Alien Wars for a while, but having the chance to really delve into Secret of Mana’s story the way it was meant to be experienced.

This is where all the emotion comes from: every time I hear that opening roar, or hear one of the game’s many unforgettable tunes, pure nostalgia rushes into me. This game is more than just a great RPG… it’s me sitting in the basement with my brother on the red carpet. On summer vacation, we would play Secret of Mana every single day between bathroom breaks, peanut butter and jam sandwiches, and steamy hot lunch pots full of ‘wieners and beans’. We’d play even when we were angry with each-other, choosing to silently attack foes on opposite sides of the screen then passive-aggressively rush over to open each-other’s treasure chest(s) with wordless snark. When we were in good spirits, we were laughing at badly timed traps, calling out battle strategies and planning complex spell casting techniques ensuring that if one of us were on the brink of death, we always had a back up plan to keep it going.

In the time since then, I’ve moved on from SNES, moved on from Erin Woods, and from Calgary, moved on from single life, on to marriage and fatherhood and job stress and mortgages and dream cars and health benefits. In all that time I still try to go back and buy a Secret of Mana re-release on some new platform, or some new remake, or some new emulator. Every time I get it running and hear those spooky growls and the melancholic music of the title screen, I realize it likely wasn’t really the game I’ve been missing with an aching heart. Rather, I’ve been missing those care-free days, hanging with my little brother.

Love you, bro.