The Mirror in the Music

Monday, January 7, 2019

The Mirror in the Music

I logged onto DeviantArt for the first time in a while, and found in my notifications a relatively new journal entry from the group Hyrule-Legends. It was entitled: “Sound Director Hajime Wakai on Zelda BoTW Music”. Posted Saturday, January 5.

Well that was.... just gourmet serendipity. For I was still full of the sweeping, rushing, desperate music from Vah Medoh. Those strings....

User MajorasMasks posted in the entry:

I recently read an interview about an underrated aspect of Breath of the Wild: its music and sound direction. I know some people complained about them, but I think they are top notch just like the rest of the game.

Among other things, in the interview Hajime Wakai explains why BotW doesn't have the canonical overworld music:
"When a composer makes a piece of music he has a plan and idea of how he wants to player to feel, but if this insistence is too strong it can have an effect on the actual game. We would end up forcing a feeling of intensity onto players. The music would be all stirring and dramatic, but then the player would think: ‘hold on a minute, all I did was throw away a mushroom…’"

You can find the complete interview on Nintendo Everything.  

The link led to url: https://www.deviantart.com/users/outgoing?https://nintendoeverything.com/breath-of-the-wild-composers-on-changing-up-zeldas-music-formula-and-more/

And that was the entire entry.

An underrated aspect of Breath of the Wild? The music?

I have to admit, I just wouldn’t have known. I’ve refrained from searching out what the internet has had to say about it all this time.

But now.... with four Divine Beasts finally under my belt.... I felt no dread for many spoilers. Hence my sudden interest in trolling the art site for . . . . whatever I might find.

And lo! THIS JOURNAL.

. . . . . . .

I could contain myself no longer. I commented on MajorasMasks’ Hyrule-Legends journal entry:

I saw this journal in my inbox a few days ago. But now I'm coming back to comment on it because.... Well, I played a bit of Breath of the Wild last night. It is still my first playthrough. BECAUSE OF REASONS please no spoilers.

But last night I defeated my fourth and final Divine Beast, and.... Man, MAN, there has been something incredibly special about the music I hear in those Divine Beasts. And it has grown and shaped and arced over the course of all my adventures. The music I've heard in those places has been the telling of the entire tale; it's Good versus Evil; it's triumphing over the Darkness; it's the rising of the Light, and the striving after Hope.

Am I the only one who has heard this?

What was the music like inside your first Divine Beast? Did it start open, and neutral? But turn dark and affronted and malicious when you started activating pedestals?

Was your second Divine Beast the same?

And when you came to your third, was the Darkness waiting for you this time? Was the music already poisoned when you set foot in that place? And once you started going through the pedestals, did a spear of hope pierce through the sound, to turn the chords into something better? Something brighter? Did the influence of your Hero pull the soundtrack back from the abyss and make it shine?

And when you came to your fourth, and the heated, hot, angry poison met your incursion again, and you started activating the pedestals....

Did the Song turn to the most desperate struggle of goodness and hope that you had yet encountered?

Has this been the experience of ANY one else?
I must know.

Whoever was in charge of the sound, whoever engineered the music for those critical struggles....

That man is a Poet.

And then, some time later, my second comment:

Also I just read the article and ugh.... it's like FINDING YOUR PEOPLE.

MajorasMasks and I had a good following conversation, though he did—he?—*—she, it’s a she—

WE HAD A GOOD following conversation, though she did tell me, in response to my music-mapping, “I think that depends on which order you play the Divine Beasts...”

For with my own playthrough—Elephant, Lizard, Camel, Bird—I had been utterly convinced that there was more at play in generating those Divine Beast soundtracks. The arc was just too perfect, the progression too meaningful. The music had to have been designed to play in that order, regardless of which animal you chose first and which you chose last. It was the Legend’s Echo.

But then.... as of this writing (Evening of Tuesday, January 15, 2019).... I still have not delved too deeply into the Breath of the Wild circles of the internet. Maybe the music is set in that storytelling order I heard, and people have already talked about this. Or maybe each Divine Beast does indeed have its own set soundtrack, and other players have been taken through other musical journey arcs, stemming from all the permutations of play-order for which the game can allow.

I’ll go find out some day, but....

Not today.

I think for now.... I’d just as soon leave it a mystery. And keep riding those striving, striving strings in my heart.

“Hey Dad.”

“Yeah?”

“You saw me doing the Bird?” For he’d stopped to watch a bit here and there. “Do you remember the music?”

He had also.... doubtless.... observed me fangirling all about the music myself as I paraglided around solving the puzzles.

But his eyes lit up to remember. Had he been struck himself, or had it been a contagion from my own reaction? “Yeah,” he smiled.

“What did you think of it?” I probed as excitedly as if it had been a blockbuster film.

“It sounded like....” he slowly maneuvered a hand palm-downward into the air, “kind of a flight-music kind of thing.”

Well that tickled my whimsy all right!

Heh, and was that likewise possibly influenced by the nature of the Beast?

Or was it the Pilot in him talking?

Urbosa's Fury

Waking of Saturday, July 28, 2018 ~ 6

Urbosa’s Fury

The quiet was exquisite.

It was broken by footsteps.

The spirit of Urbosa walked down the steps of an inner strut, coming toward me as if from that same exterior deck where we had met one hundred years ago.

I liked her. How straightforward she was. How sensible and matter-of-fact.

How could a spirit like hers ever be confined or burdened down....?

Unless.... as indicated by his many physiques.... Calamity Ganon really had....

. . . .

Done to them what he did to the Guardians.

“This is just the way things had to happen, and no one is to blame,” Urbosa said, “Tell the Princess not to worry.”

Gosh I liked her. She was so strong. So sure. Straightforward.

And when she assured me that Vah Naboris was once again under proper control—when she said Vah Naboris, she flipped her R.

There was something.... awesome, about that. It didn’t feel out of place. Especially considering the different words the Gerudo used for things anyway. Very possibly a whole other language they spoke only among themselves.

The accent was striking. Charming. And her switching to and from it so easily intimated a special kind of intelligence.

I had never thought to be picking favorites among the Champions. And certainly not someone so mundane as a Gerudo. Really, what was so sensational about overly tall women who were basically the same as myself, just with rounder ears and a longer nose? And a few heads more in height?

They couldn’t spear through the waters or fly through the skies or punch through rocks and walk through hot lava unscathed.

They weren’t cool.

. . . .

But Urbosa was.

Gosh I liked her.

Mm, but I could never see myself picking favorites....

. . . .

She imparted a few more words to me before bestowing upon me a gift she said I would have use for—Urbosa’s Fury.

This was different as well. The Champions always parted their blessings to me with great will and flair. And so Urbosa did just now. But this time, as the sphere of empowering light connected with my chest . . . . I only regarded it with a solid expression—maybe gave one meaningful blink through a deep nasal inhale. I was not thrust into a closed-eyed, overpowering serenity. My feet did not leave the ground. Urbosa had demonstrated the motion, and now, I only mirrored it right back—

In a swirling rush forward, stepping strong four-to-fives, I threw out one hand and snapped my fingers and—

WHAT THE LIGHTNING??? WITH A SNAP OF MY OWN FINGERS WHAT?????

It came down in a cacophany all around me, multiple strikes like an aura of DEATH in a dangerous radius from my person!

OH MY GOSH!!! 8D

I just had to hold down my melee-strike button as if for a spin-attack—a mad Kaitengiri with THOSE FOUR-TO-FIVES and—Krak-ka-BOOOOMMmm—

Oh my gosh, this was too awesome.... X-)

Mipha and Daruk had been there to get me out of trouble but this....

This was for aimin’ to misbehave.

And after only a few more words spoken, it was time for me to leave the Divine Beast, and I teleported away in the same shimmering white light like gleaming snowflakes floating up into the sky....

And Urbosa led Vah Naboris TO....

Spectacle Rock I CALLED IT.

“Nabooru, legend of the Gerudo and revered for generations, for whom you were named, Vah Naboris...” Urbosa went on in some such words as she led the Divine Beast.

She was proud of her people, and rightly so—they were strong, and descended from powerful heroines.

But Urbosa had a vendetta.

Beneath her cool collectedness you could feel it. Something seething just beneath the surface.... something you didn’t wanna mess with.... something you didn’t wanna touch.

“It is said that Calamity Ganon once adopted the form of a Gerudo.” Her eyes hardened. “I relish the chance to make this personal.”

Again hinting that to be something she didn’t normally do.... The indignation felt righteous, and appropriately waited for.... Gosh I liked her....

“I’ve been waiting so long for the time when Link would finally rush Hyrule Castle.... and for the time I could blast Calamity Ganon to ashes....”

Vah Naboris’ six-eyed face locked on to the distant castle; part of it opened up and two rods extended to emanate the giant, focusing red beam, which shot out and blazed against the writhing, swirling Calamity....

“That moment,” Urbosa savored the thought as she stood atop the Divine Beast in the red, red sun, “will be so delicious.”

The Collected Hero

Waking of Saturday, July 28, 2018 ~ 5

The Collected Hero

This was different, too. I’m sure of it.... I think in other Divine Beasts I had never been able to make actual contact to the main control unit with my Sheikah Slate. But now I stood and placed the Slate against the console with a definitive clack.

Nothing.

Link doesn’t need a voice. He has eyes.

You could see him anticipating the rebuff.... and it came, with its repellent explosion of swirling blue light, which coalesced into . . . . a most hideous and grotesque apparition, like the others.

Lither than the Fireblight Ganon had been. Tall—like Urbosa....

And only now I wonder if there will have been a correlation in all their physiques—OH HYLIA, he didn’t—

Their spirits had been trapped?

. . . . . . .

I will not pursue the thought.

There is no time.

Thunderblight Ganon was come for me.

One cruel, sullied-magenta hand was free, the other limb bore a large and vicious kind of Thunderblade—it crackled hungrily.

Urbosa’s voice came to me again—this was the thing that had ended her life one hundred years ago. It was powerful, and fast. She told me to be very, very careful—“Don’t let this place become your grave,” she said, or something like it.

I was ready.

But first, as soon as I was able, I raised my pictobox and took a shot.

My Compendium registered the subject....

But the image was a blur.

Oh dear, what would happen when I unpaused....?

I couldn’t stay still forever. I was the Hero and I had a job to do.

When I came back there was only a very rapid Whoosh-whoosh-WHOOSH-WHOOSH—sha-WHACK! and I was tumbling through the air off the platform—the blow had come from somewhere behind me—a few hearts gone—

Blurs. That’s all he was. A flurry of rushing sounds, streaks of dark color, and then SHRACK! the slice would come and send me sprawling. But I saw that though he was fast, his blows were relatively weak, and electric shock never made me drop my weapons—that was a blessing.

Sometimes—rarely—I was able to dodge it, and come back and get a few hits in.

Sometimes I was able to pelt him with a Bomb Arrow to the face.

Urbosa spoke strongly in my ear time and again, spurring me onward—Be cautious. Stay strong. Fight! Some such words—

Rush-rush-rush-POW! I spun through the air.

“Oh my gosh, what does he WANT?” I howled to David.

“Block it with your shield!”

But I didn’t want to waste Daruk’s power....

Some beloved weapon shattered and I swiped through my pockets for another....

The Master Sword glowed stronger. Sixty damage.

Why did it do that? Why was it sometimes stronger and sometimes weaker?

Was it stronger now because it sensed the evil around it? Did it only manifest its power when it was most needed?

Then again why did I keep refusing it? It was there for me to use. And I couldn’t ignore it forever. This was what it was made for. To be a Bane against Evil....

I switched to the sixty-strong Master Sword—Daruk gave me an opening—and sliced-sliced-sliced against Thunderblight Ganon while I was close enough—

And then came the point when he had had enough. What would he do now? I wondered as I peered from behind a distant strut.

And a glistening metallic tablet like an overly tall tombstone appeared in the cracked surface beside me so suddenly that I was unsure whether it had slammed down from above or sprung up from beneath. It gleamed with a sharp electric charge....

Then more tablets fell—I could see the trailing lightning now—they were definitely falling, one after another in perfect succession, chasing me at a crisp hundred and twenty beats per minute as I fled from their rhythmic onslaught.

When Thunderblight Ganon had laid enough of them into the bulkheads, I gather he must have set an explosive current arcing through the lot of them to fry anything caught in their web—I gather. I couldn’t tell exactly because I was too busy putting distance between myself and that trap.

And so Thunderblight Ganon had another go—and I had another run. These crude lightning rods were more dodgeable than his rushing attacks. But.... I had to gain some points of my own.... Urbosa urged me on.

I claimed a higher spot and, as the monster detonated another web of electric death, sent him my love in the form of a Bomb Arrow.

There was no effect.

Great.

What could I—?

I thought, as I ran. My arrows were now ineffective. I couldn’t hit him. And I couldn’t get close enough to him to try any melee weapons either—that might bring me too close to those lightning rods.

What could I do?

Well, what did I have at my disposal?

What had this Divine Beast given me?

Nothing. Only the weapons from those Guardian Crawlies.

But I couldn’t use my weapons.

What else did I have?

Well.... I had a Sheikah Slate.

Those lightning rods looked like they were metallic.

Oman Au—Magnesis!

Oh great, I thought, this is gonna be tricky....

But I turned around in my flight, and as the lightning rods were planted but before they could be charged, I activated the Slate’s Magnesing power—the nearest lightning rod glowed pink in indication—I could grab that.

And I did, the Magnesis rippling out of the Slate far too slowly for my liking—it latched onto the rod with a clean electrical snapping—Where was Thunderblight Ganon?

He was up there to the left—

You can’t run as fast when you’re holding something in Magnesis. I took a few steps, turned, raised the rod higher, shot it forward, casting all my hopes into the trajectory—

I had worried for my aim, but somehow.... the rod connected! And Thunderblight Ganon came tumbling out of the air at the counterattack!

Now—

I paraglided from the platform and sailed in—the Master Sword glowed so bright—and I gave no quarter as I swiped and sliced and cut—

The monster leapt upright again—was I hit?

“Link!”

It was Urbosa. Only calling my name.

None of the Champions had done that before.

Their words had always been urges and suggestions and hints and encouragement, but this brave Gerudo Warrior only calling my name in the heat of a terrible and ferocious battle....

I appreciated that.

Of all the Champions thus far she seemed the most.... real and invested.

Thunderblight Ganon’s one evil eye glared at me fiercely.... and then began to glow.

The laser settled over my heart.

I backed up.

“What are you—?” came David’s voice.

I only had a few seconds—was everything in order? It seemed to be.

The laser glowed hotter, began to beep.... and beep....

. . . .

And beep . . . . . . .

. . . . . . .

The shimmer appeared in the air, and I swung my shield as the blast came—

Khing!

Time slowed as the bolt rebounded off my shield and flew back into Thunderblight Ganon’s face!

“You parried it??” says David.

“Well I’ve had a lot of practice!” says I and my heart was a bold roaring lion as I ran back in and walloped away on Thunderblight Ganon where he slumped against the curving wall—Slicing and slicing and slicing as his life-meter dropped—

He spent his all in a final cinematic leap from my last attack—and he writhed and shriveled and died in the air with the same piercing scream as the others had done. High and keening as an exploding kettle.... but no more horrific in my ears.

Only wretched.

Divine Beast Vah Naboris

Waking of Saturday, July 28, 2018 ~ 4

Divine Beast Vah Naboris

I stood on a belly-level deck of the Divine Beast Vah Naboris. The world moved and spun dizzyingly all around me far below as the gigantic legs turned and worked.

The ride was surprisingly smooth.

“Well, well, well,” said Urbosa’s voice.

What did she go on to say....?

Much the same as the other Champions had said, I think, though her tone was definitely her own.

I liked her. She always felt so straightforward and honest. Fierce but peaceable. No nonsense. She let nothing burden her, and focused on what needed to be done.

And the first thing that needed to be done was for me to download that map....

The Inside of Vah Naboris was largely cylindrical—and it came with its own share of Malicious Eyeballs and a few minor Guardian Crawlies.... which I dispatched.

But this Beast....

Vah Naboris seemed to have the most moving parts of any Divine Beast I had yet encountered. The barrel inside of its main body was comprised of three rotating drums, and depending on how I aligned these, the inner struts and ramps and platforms would allow me to access different portals to exterior decks—or the main control unit, mounted in the center drum. So this was where it would all go down....

And then there was the circuitry—each drum had a single, large, front-to-back conductive strip that could be rotated to top, bottom, starboard, or port. And when these were properly aligned, they transferred power to different areas of the Beast, setting further components into motion!

But there was more that was different here....

The music felt backward this time.

In Vah Ruta and Vah Rudania, when I had started out, the music had been open, up for grabs, awaiting possibilities. But here....

The Piano seemed.... malcontent. The underchords floated around, dizzy and obscure, bemoaning awful things I’m sure, but the Piano, just—it would just pound every once in a while.

Like it was angry at me.

Like it didn’t want me to be there.

Like something.... didn’t want me to be there.

And instead of the soft and open music catching on to my presence and growing darker and faster and more threatening over time.... here the music started out in BLATANT threat, and as I located and activated terminals.... a sound stronger and more organized seemed to commandeer the air—

The Champion Urbosa and I were going to take back this Divine Beast. And Ganon knew it. How we strove together in such terrific concert! But terminal after terminal, that HOPEFUL DORIAN GLOWING permeated deeper throughout the soundtrack, wrapping it up, encompassing it, and sounding to the universe and fate that Good was here, and it was able.

Well, able enough.

Though there were some segments of Vah Naboris that still boggled me right out of my head—not the least of which was that danged treasure chest hanging off the tippity-tip of Vah Naboris’ TAIL. By a ROPE.

I would not be able to sever the rope and Magnese the chest in time. I had tried on too many other objects. Magnesis was not fast.

Even the upward-position of Vah Naboris’ caboose didn’t bring the chest in close enough laterally to land on a deck should I sever its rope.

Where the chest was connected seemed to be an enormous hinge. Maybe if I Stasised the chest and then moved the caboose....

No good. The rope snapped and the chest fell into sandy oblivion.

You bet your Sweet Canadian Mullets I reloaded. Forgive me, dear Korok Leaf that I had to put down! For it vanished on the reload.

Maybe if I moved the caboose in the opposite direction, it could catch the chest from beneath when the Stasis let go....

Nope—it just pushed it down and away toward its doom.

Dang it!

What the heck kinda camel has a detachable caboose anyway? I haven’t seen one of those since.... the Opus and Bill cartoon. What was that even....?

I ran back upstairs so many times trying to get that chest—I am sure I walked in places I was never meant to walk.

David thought I was crazy when I would stand at the back of the caboose, manipulate the circuits to make it swing upward, and then step over the farthest edge as it rose to meet me.

It was terrifying when I would misstep coming out of a paraglide, and plummet suddenly toward the sand three hundred feet below. And how Vah Naboris kept walking! But the furthest reaches of its exterior structuring were blessedly free of the wind of its movements. My many jumps surely should not have been possible. But with a wreck of pounding in my chest I always managed to glide back toward a lower deck.... and try again.

In the end the chest solution was easier than I’d thought—like so many things. I grazed the rope’s base with the corona of a Fire Arrow. And as the rope burned, I clutched onto the chest with a vindictive Magnesis!

And all my Foolish persistence was worth it—the chest contained an Ancient Core.

Ah.... Happy Day.

That chest was the last thing I cleaned up. I had already activated all the terminals, Urbosa’s voice guiding me onward in strength and encouragement; she knew I was ready to proceed.... But I just hadn’t wanted to move forward without picking up every last thing....

But now that Vah Naboris had been completely cleaned out—I’d even found a few sweet mushrooms in deep storage up in its back; that was nice—it was time to return to the central drum, and activate the main control unit.

The Bravest

Waking of Saturday, July 28, 2018 ~ 3

The Bravest

I was still dressed as a vai when I pulled up to the island of rock in the desert sands—the Eastern Lookout Post. I wanted to look around a bit myself first, and found a Gerudo named Sudrey inside. Guess she was there to man the place.

She said she hadn’t expected the Chief would call for the help of someone so.... short.... as I was.

Ouch. XD

Maybe it was this affront to my physique that reminded me to change into something a bit stronger—I ditched the girl clothes, and decked myself out for maximum strength.

Outside the outpost was a ladder up to a high platform. I found Riju up there and spoke to her as the late sun cast everything into red fire.

“So that’s what you really look like,” she said upon seeing me. And I don’t know why it should have, but it took me by surprise—she had only seen me as a vai before then after all!

Riju set to explaining her plan, and I wondered.... Would it be hard and fast with speed on our side, like with Prince Sidon? An approach on foot from a safe distance, and a volley of heavy ranged attacks, like with Yunobo?

What would Riju’s plan be?

Vah Naboris drew energy from the earth through its feet, she explained. If we could disrupt that process, we could subdue it. We would go out by sand seal, Riju wearing the Thunder Helm to protect herself and anyone near her, and I employing Bomb Arrows—Riju supplied these as well, twenty of them—and they would be for Vah Naboris’ feet.

The Divine Beast would rain lightning down on us once we drew near. But if I could stay close enough to Riju I would be safe. However, if at any point I felt it would be better to retreat and regroup, Riju told me not to hesitate to say so.

....So that was it then. Just....

Up close and personal.

We readied our sand seals back down on the ground; I was afforded one of the redder, tamer, faster ones to use. But before we got going, Riju asked me to back up a bit first.

She was wearing the Thunder Helm (which was a little big, she had conceded). But she wore it confidently now and offered aloud an unashamed prayer to her ancestors and the great Champion Urbosa. She called on their aid in her time of need—her people’s time of need—and asked for their protection in the dangerous endeavor we were about to undertake....

And a crackling, shimmering field emanated from the Thunder Helm—pale, energetic yellow—a wide, protective bubble.

And then....

We started.

“Stay close,” Riju had told me, and I tried to now. Our sand seals plunged ahead through ancient ruins and between tottering towers of stone—easy enough to dodge. But it was more difficult to stay inside the Thunder Helm’s protective circle. The conflicted weavings of our passage aside, it seemed that Patricia was slightly faster than my own sand seal....

And then we entered the dust cloud.

Arizona Fog I would have called it.

The horizon vanished, distance disappeared, and we were inside the night.

I could only stay close to Riju; at least she seemed to know where she was going.

What were we doing? We couldn’t see anything, the world had closed around us, we were shooting off into the oblivious blank of an ocean of tiny grit, all the while nearing a Divine Beast that was FREE ROAMING where it would—

Brreep-brreep! Brreep-brreep!

I shut off my shrine detector.

The boundaries of the universe only swirled darkly around us in an impenetrable sphere.

What were we doing?

Chief Riju stopped by the ruin of an ancient stone wall, and I followed suit. The dust thinned a bit and we could see Vah Naboris tromping gigantic through the gloom.

So big....

We started our run—it was so difficult to make my seal keep pace with Patricia—too far forward, too far back—A chill burst over the screen in a cloud of cold and I switched to my Ruby Circlet—blasted desert climate—The Divine Beast walked, left legs, right legs, left legs, right legs, paying such little regard to two insects like us—but as we pursued after its massive, slow meandering with all our tiny and furious might, we could feel its attack charging and incoming—a powerful, precise reticle centering on my position—my position—come on, seal—and still the Divine Beast walked and we two tiny worms dared to charge closer—

Kra-KKAAOOWwww! Lightning shattered down—but at that very moment I was safe inside the Chief’s protective aura. Nothing happened. We were untouched. Invulnerable.

Excellent.

But it wasn’t always so easy.

I was pulling backward and forward of Chief Riju’s position as if connected to her by a yo-yo. Vah Naboris tromped ahead so slowly, so deliberately—so hugely—I couldn’t keep up unless I made a dash for it with my seal, but Riju held Patricia in reserve—The Divine Beast was gaining—

And the lightning loomed again and I had to fall back—and I didn’t always make it.

Kra-KKAAOOWwww!

My hearts vanished by more than half. Gone. In a flash.

Lost my sand seal—it popped up out of the sand a little way ahead and stood still, waiting.

Riju wheeled round and came back to me—the protective field was there.

“Link! Do you want to fall back for now?” Or some such words she said.

But I never gave up.

My stocks were plentiul; a few well-prepared dishes saw me strong and on my feet again—and then it was the rush of reality back in my face as I dashed beyond the Thunder Helm’s protection to reclaim my sand seal once more.

Riju and I charged closer, and closer.... and I fired Bomb Arrow after Bomb Arrow—but I was a poor judge of distance and my shots always came up short—the monumentality of this thing—how far did I have to dash toward it before it stopped growing in my view?

But some of my shots connected—in the rushing, tumbling push-and-pull between me and Riju, I let fly my explosives and two of Vah Naboris’ house-sized feet went dark—please tell me they wouldn’t regenerate if I delayed....

And lightning reduced me to a sizzling heap again.

How many times did it strike me down like that?

“Do you want to fall back for now?”

No.

This Divine Beast....

This Chief....

What were we doing?

We two humans—well one human, one Gerudo—but she was short enough—but technically I was a Hylian—

WE TWO tiny things.

We were using what was at our disposal.

The Chief was using what was at her disposal. And what was at her disposal were sand seals and nerve.

She felt like that shot from the old Xena opening sequence, standing unafraid on the rocky shore and crying defiance at the rising Poseidon, the Force that could crush her in a heartbeat....

We two tiny things.

She was surely the bravest child I had ever met.

Vah Naboris was far away now, but I came back to my sand seal, and we surfed through the dark sand once more, in pursuit.

I stayed close to Riju and waited this time for lightning to strike.... and only after it did, and immediately at that, did I shoot my sand seal forward, stopping for nothing and spurring it onward until I was at the monster’s very feet—not house-sized—HILL-sized—They pounded into the earth all around me, the sand exploded, one step equalled death, and they moved—so far and fast they moved at one stride from the beast—but my arrows caught them—

Kra-KKAAOOWWwww!

Riju circled to my position and kept me safe until I could regain my feet....

The strategy was sound.... but.... and I had the meals to spare.

One more run waiting for the Divine Beast’s attack to deplete itself of energy, and another mad dash forward.... another brush with ten thousand tons of crushing, beigebronzy death.... Bomb Arrows away....

And the last foot went out, and the mighty Divine Beast Vah Naboris sank to the earth—we had literally brought it to its knees.

....It had the same face as that on the Thunder Helm....

What followed then were some of the most beautifully animated and charged cutscenes I had seen thus far: the two of us, the Chief and I, surging the final distance to the subdued Divine Beast, Link swinging off his sliding shield as his sand seal came to a halt, leaping deftly into a run to join the Chief where she stood, and imparted a few final words.... There was only so much Chief Riju the leader of the Gerudo could do—the rest was up to Link now.  And Link as he hurried to board Vah Naboris.... clinging fingers and toes in a kneeling position to that slanted surface as the beast began to rise again.... I could feel the strain and balance in his muscles oh if he could just hold on....

These were the best cinematics.

In The Breezy Shades Of Night

Waking of Saturday, July 28, 2018 ~ 2

In The Breezy Shades Of Night

I warped to the southern steps of the Gerudo Highlands to dig into that weapons cache I had found so long ago. Found and then left buried behind a mass of boulders like a big expensive squirrel-horde. Those blades were shiny....

!

I shall call it....

Magpie Rock.

Yes.

Armed with the good stuff, I then warped to Gerudo Town, and proceeded to cook up a few extra meals in one of a couple of unused woks just off the square.

After that....

The only thing left was the Throne Room.

I entered slowly. Buliara was there. But Riju was not. However, the bodyguard informed me that I had been given special permission to visit the Chief in her sleeping quarters, upstairs.

I took the stairs on the left (there were two staircases), and the guard on the halfway landing remarked that the Chief must have thought pretty highly of me, a foreign vai, to be allowed up there.

I continued up to where the staircases met, on an outer balcony overlooking the city. Riju stood there.

“You needn’t say a thing,” she started, “As Chief of my people, I can feel my heirloom’s power radiating from you.”

Or some such words.

She went on to explain that she could feel worry, in the eyes of all her people. She was such a young chief. And to have lost the Thunder Helm in the first place....

It must be hard to have so many expectant eyes upon you.

I handed over the helm, and Riju put it on, then turned to face me.

Her eyes could not be seen; the helm seemed more like a mask. Six embossed tendrils sprang over the front before ending in little blue-jeweled spots like eyes, gleaming in two columns of three apiece. The ornamental vertical halo cresting the back radiated with lightning motifs.

“Well, how do I look?” she asked.

Like a spider, I thought, and lost myself to memory....

Vah Naboris towered still and quiet in the desert of the night. Link’s tiny figure walked across one of its expansive decks, toward a low huddle of.... nondescript humanity....

Then the camera caught up and took better note, and I saw the Champion Urbosa turn her head slightly at my approach, and take the most.... beautifully animated regard of me as I drew near.

But she moved softly, and spoke more softly still—she wasn’t alone where she sat on the deck, on a makeshift throw of rug and pillow. Princess Zelda leaned, dead asleep, against her left side.

“Well you got here fast,” Urbosa said to me, “She’s been out on a survey all day today.”

What did Urbosa ask me then? Whether I noticed something in the princess? The exhaustion? The frustration? I don’t remember.... and because I was Link, I didn’t answer either.

“Your silence speaks volumes,” said Urbosa.

Hurr. |D

She went on to explain, in her low and lilting voice, how the Princess just got frustrated whenever she saw me wearing that sword on my back. “Don’t worry, it’s not as if you have any fault in any of this,” she added. Or some such words.

The Princess had just been working so hard.... “She once passed out in the freezing waters searching for this sealing power,” Urbosa said, “That’s the kind of motivation that drives her research.” The Gerudo stroked the little Hylian lightly on the cheek. “She really is special.”

And yet she felt like a failure....

Hhhh.... why? I didn’t understand....

“The night brings a chill; it’s time we bring her in,” said Urbosa, but then she paused. “Or....” she said, this singular floating conjunction running a rogue operation outside the ever-present text-boxes.... what?

And rising in Urbosa’s green eyes came a light just as mischievous....

What...? o__o

Urbosa extended her right arm out toward the desert.... and snapped her fingers.

The sound came loud and crisp in the silence before being immediately dwarfed by the shattering Kra-KAOWWww of a bolt of lightning! Right out in the desert next to us!

Zelda gasped and sat bolt upright. “What was that?” she panted, “Urbosa? Did you feel that?”

And as she turned about on the rug her eyes fell on me.

“What are you doing here?” she shrieked. She sounded embarrassed.

But Urbosa threw back her head and let out a low and HEARTY laugh.... for honorary contralto points.... while Zelda’s head continued to spin between the two of us....

“What?” said Riju, “You’re just staring...”

There were two choices. I tried to be nice, and said, “It looks good!” ....instead of “It’s a little big...”

Riju smiled.... and shifted the large helmet to a more secure position as she moved her head.

The Chief aimed to stop the Divine Beast. She had researched its power, and confided to me that her people would be entirely helpless if it made it to the town.... And she once again asked for my aid. “Will you help me?” she said.

Sometimes I feel like the contrast between the yes-answers and the no-answers can be a little bit extreme. That wasn’t quite the steady, manly, heroic response I felt like giving, but.... I wasn’t gonna leave this girl in the dust.

“I will!” I said.

And Riju gave a shaky laugh, “Who knew that just a simple, confident pledge of support from you was all I needed to set my mind at ease?”

Heh, she could disguise it so well, though.... Even so, that felt good. <3

Chief Riju asked me to meet her at the Lookout Post, east of town. “Take a sand seal,” she advised, “You can get in some practice with them that way.”

And so I did....

. . . .

But not before I gave myself a proper tour of the Chief’s bedroom. Oh my gosh so many cartoon sand seal prints everywhere and the stuffed sand seals on her bed were so cute!!

In the face of my vexations

Evening of Friday, January 5, 2018 ~ 2

In the face of my vexations

I bought all the arrows from that donkey-pulling merchant at the Gerudo Canyon Stable.

The sun was sinking. I had to hurry.

Calisa was nowhere to be seen. But there was another Gerudo—Lukan—whom I had seen by the stable before. Lukan was a soldier who posed as a merchant, in order to keep a better eye out for bandits from the Yiga Clan.

I thought about walking out with her for.... another attempt at the desert, but....

That life had already been lived.

And yet how I still pressed to repeat even a nighttime journey just the same.

I turned my back on the stable, and set my face toward the end of the canyon and the beginning of the sand....

Three Stalmoblins clawed up out of the earth.

Dang it.

This wasn’t how it was supposed to go—

I dashed to isolate one of them, cutting him down quickly and dispatching the head—

But there was another voice behind me.

I turned to take on the second monster—and saw Lukan engaged with the third!

She was a soldier after all.

The manied hands made.... such light work.

And Lukan gave me a warming dish as thanks for the team effort!

Maybe I’ll walk out with Lukan after all, I thought, picking up the monster bits that had rolled back toward the stable.

And so it was Lukan’s company I kept as I walked once again into the icy, starlit desert.

It seemed Calisa did want to come along after all, though; for after a time I noticed she and some other merchant had started out from the canyon some distance behind us.

Well, the more the merrier.

Lukan advised me on the dangers of the desert as we traveled: “There are sandstorms so thick out there you can’t tell vai from voe.”

Vai, huh? Must be their word for female....

It was six in the morning when we came close to the bazaar, and Vah Naboris rumbled and roared.

The sandstorm was greenish, lighter with the dawn, and not the same. Not as good.

Not the blue pre-dawn dimness that was light enough to the eyes, dark enough to the heart, and far enough that it might have held the vast emptiness of space. The color of desolation.

But I took it.

And Ripp the guard told me all about the Divine Beast once more.

....

Nine o’clock.

....

Why is it so difficult?

I wish I could forget, but I have to remember....

Zelda ran panting over the desert sand. Ran for her life. Head, neck, and arms pumping momentum over exhausted legs. Tired, desperate, ragged gasps punctuated by the jarring of terrified vocal chords as she turned and turned again and turned again to see behind her.

A Yiga Clansman. Red and lithe. The vision of speed. Low and streamlined as a cat.

His scythe was drawn.

She ran.

In all the desert so open and vast, the one jutting hill of beige stone approaching fast on her left—

Two more Yiga leapt out from behind it to bar her way. Scythes—

Of course they planned it that way.

She had not wherewith to fight.

She could not turn left or right, only back and forth in snapping glances as they closed in, the chaser stepping now; his run was over. And in the whirling panic to measure and shrink from the press at every side she stumbled to the ground. On palms and rump, heels and elbows she shuffled herself backward, away from the chaser, shaking as he neared.

And the chaser stepped his last step and raised his scythe above his head against the dusty sky and they meant to kill and it was happening too fast and there was no hesitation and his arm reached its apex and came rushing down.

Metal clashed and sparked against metal—the scythe flew up into the air.

One stroke.

Zelda turned with a gasp.

But Link wasn’t looking at her—his sword was still outstretched from the parry as he stared the other two down.

Behind them both, the chaser’s limbs folded and he fell on his side, limp, and dead.

The other two Yiga stepped back uncertainly....

Link didn’t flinch. And Zelda only looked at his face: steady, and hard, the gaze unreturned for it was busy, as her breath came back to her.

I think.... that this is the first time I have ever felt . . . . heartless, for the rapier precision I commit by my words.

What is this log doing to me?