“The flow of time is always cruel… its speed seems different for each person, but no one can change it… A thing that does not change with time is a memory of younger days.”
My first Zelda game was the minish cap.
Since then, it became my first try, first life, first love. It kept me going through my darkest time, and I’ve always wondered how. The music distracted me from a bustling world, the story and philosophy pulled me in — basically changed my entire mindset regarding the world. Green (and any shades of blue) became my favourite colour. The game’s world somehow spilled into mine, making everything more vibrant.
My world isn’t really the most ideal space one would thought it’d be, but then Father gave me Gameboy and bought me Zelda, and it did bring peace in my mind during hours of my gameplay.
Time stops the moment a certain familiar melody plays.
It’s wholesome. Haha. It’s similar to Link’s Awakening’s version of the main theme.
There’s this thrill in discovering hidden spots, stumbling upon secrets, and just wandering around without a strict agenda. It’s like having your own little world to get lost in, and that’s what made the game special for me. It wasn’t about rushing through missions; it was about soaking in the details and enjoying the journey.
Minish Cap, on the GameBoy, had an interesting mechanic; you just become extremely small. And you’d explore a completely miniature world, through the forest, meeting the Gorons, and so on. It’s unlike the usual, conventional Zelda map. There’s just so much to do with different mood and ambiance. My personal favourite was the Temple of Droplets.
The mission has always been crystal clear: save Hyrule. It’s a straightforward goal that echoes through each Zelda game. The same narrative threads run through the tales of Wind Waker (indirectly), the Phantom Hourglass, and Spirit Tracks, promising a similar quest for heroism.
And, the main theme has always remained the same. Heroic. Full of life. I don’t know why, but whenever I hear this music (it even happened the first time I played it), it just makes me super happy. Even on my really bad days, when I’m crying, this tune somehow always brings a big smile to my face. It doesn’t fix everything, but it’s always made me smile.
It gives the feeling of facing an incoming danger.
But not in Link’s Awakening.
It was entirely wholesome yet. So much to do. It’s.. it’s still the usual, conventional Zelda game that’s adventurous with the iconic Link and Hyrule. I mean — look at these broad art styles;
Until 10.000 years passed.
Amid the familiar quest, a pivotal moment unfolded — a discovery that acted as a turning point in my gaming journey. Something unexpected, something that would redefine the way I approached the challenges that lay ahead in these future adventures.
But it’s different now. There’s barely any music.
It was 2017 and E3 was around.
I was going into high school and something life changing happened. Father was still playing the piano and he was pretty surprised either.
Yeah, no way. That’s when I decided; yes, I want to do art. Anything that has to do with art. But not only that — I decided, that, I really want peace to occupy my mind. Because that day, I really wanted a Switch.
But upon digging a bit deeper, what I truly crave is the calmness that the later games bring during the playthrough.
Enter Breath of the Wild and Tears of the Kingdom.
I’ve always known what has to be done. But nothing ever beats the raw feeling of looking over the Great Plateau for the first time. This is the song that plays upon discovering a familiar yet foreign world.
But then? AThere was nothing. No music, barely any sense of “Hey, you must do this then that then this then that immediately.” Just a helpless kingdom lost to time for years. You are a former hero, and the princess just called for help — but then, what? It’s just you. Woken up in a random cave, and you’re witnessing a land in the brink of destruction. Then you stumble upon the Great Plateau.
How do you reclaim a long lost legacy?
Then there’s my favourite sequence upon watching different walkthroughs all at once (context; I didn’t have the money to buy a Wii or a Switch). Link visiting the Temple of Time.
If played on piano, the tune that faintly plays in the building, it’s the same tune that once played in the Ocarina of Time. It’s like this historic building in Hyrule’s story has been reduced to just a barely recognizable fragmented piece. Lost to history.
Which makes its return yet again in Tears of the Kingdom.
Each of the melody, broken and even broken as time passes by, giving the feeling of a long-lost lullaby. Hyrule appears as if it’s fading from existence, an ethereal realm caught between tangible reality and elusive imagination. It’s more than a kingdom; it’s a spectral reflection, barely real, and yet, hauntingly present. The broken melodies serve as the soundtrack to this surreal journey, unraveling a narrative that transcends the conventional boundaries of time and space.
AAAAAAA IT’S JUST SO GOOD I CAN’T AHSDUIHJKNSDV
But so much serenity is found within this space of nothingness. The mountains and landscapes aren’t just static features but dynamic layers that hold untold stories and challenges. It’s a world that demands engagement, asking players to traverse its verticality and unearth the hidden gems concealed within.
The conventional Zelda game feels satisfying when players complete an objective. This one is optional — you can travel hours to no end just exploring an endless world and broken pieces of piano melodies. The broken piano melodies serve as ethereal breadcrumbs, luring players deeper into the tapestry of the world. It’s not just about completing tasks; it’s about the joy of discovery, where every hill, valley, and vista holds the potential for unearthing something extraordinary. In this open-ended odyssey, the satisfaction arises not from ticking off a checklist but from the sheer delight of exploration and the unscripted moments that unfold along the way.
For example, my personal favourite;
And the illustration that goes within this video is that — what resembles the entire Breath of the Wild experience as a whole. Stand atop any high point, surveying the vast expanse, and there it is — Hyrule Castle, a distant but unmistakable silhouette against the horizon. The mere sight of it serves as a constant reminder of the looming threat, casting a shadow over the beauty of the world you traverse. The open landscapes, once an invitation for discovery, now bear witness to the impending clash between courage and calamity.
Sure, I shed real tears the first time I touched Tears of the Kingdom.
It brought back too many memories. I was like, 8 when I first touched The Minish Cap and I still lived with my father. Now I’m a young adult, turning 21, and the heart within me remains the same.
Now, amidst the complexities of today, those memories call out to me, urging me to revisit the joy and simplicity of the past. It’s almost like a gentle nudge to pick up that controller again or to log into Minecraft, to honor the plans I once had. These aren’t just memories; they are invitations to reconnect with the essence of who I used to be, to relive moments that shaped me.
Maybe it’s time to set aside a moment, to let go of the present hustle, and just indulge in the nostalgia that beckons. To pick up that controller or virtually lay the last brick of that planned house, allowing myself the luxury of enjoying those moments once more. Because, in these reflections, I might just rediscover not just the joy of the past but also a piece of myself that deserves to be celebrated.
Sure, I find solace in the notion of life as an open, undefined space, where we can wander without a predetermined path, devoid of the pressure to embark on unforgettable adventures with the constant feeling of time slipping away. There’s a unique tranquility in embracing the emptiness, allowing each step to unfold naturally without the weight of predefined objectives or the urgency of ticking clocks. It’s a preference for the beauty found in the simplicity of meandering through life’s open spaces, appreciating the unscripted moments, and savoring the freedom to explore without the constant chase of time-bound adventures.
I hope life stays peaceful, just letting time unfold naturally.
Shorter, simpler, sweeter.
I wish my mind stopped thinking and banging random notes from time to time.
Just quiet, serenity, tranquil.
If any of this were real, I wouldn’t pick up the Master Sword. I just want to live by my principles of peace. The weight of it all is too much to bear, so let the sword be passed on through the years.
Don’t rush the fall, or the music will stop when you hit the water below you.
Don’t rush the wait, because the stillness of your age will remain the same as we grow older, and older, and older.
There may be a lot of theories and versions of this franchise that might’ve given a lasting impression on each players. But for me, it’s been the sole promise I keep for myself, my father, and this heart of mine I’ve been protecting since I was eight.
Deep within, our stories, tangled emotions, and the bustling thoughts in our minds resonate like piano keys, softly playing tunes that echo our childhood.. is the Legend, of Zelda.
