Heroes aren’t born as such — they’re made. Forged like steel from ordinary souls inhabiting the world that brought them forth. They are often discovered in the simplest of places: a forgotten forest, a peaceful village, a quiet island in a vast sea. When we meet them, they are ordinary people going about their ordinary tasks, but within those first moments, we can feel something about them.
The mystery of a boy without a fairy, the bravery of a lad who chases after his uncle despite being told to stay put, the brother who nearly throws himself off a cliff to rescue his sister, or a sleeping boy who’s only awakened by the squawk of a bird as it spits a letter at his head.
Link from Skyloft doesn’t look like much at first glance. He’s tired, sprawled out halfway on the floor after having fallen out of bed. Perhaps he’s still wearing the clothes he wore yesterday. The bird peeking through his window regards him with an air of disdain, going so far as to spit the morning mail directly at him. Clearly, this animal doesn’t think much of him, but the letter inside suggests someone does.
“I’m guessing this letter will be your alarm clock this morning. Did I guess right? You’d better not keep me waiting,” Zelda says before signing her name. It’s cheeky; there’s a familiarity there that I’d never encountered before in a Zelda game, and for me, it brought about a new sort of interest in this character. There wasn’t so much mystery about him as there was relatability.
It’s clear from the letter Link has somewhere he’s supposed to be; some task that he’s supposed to be doing, but he’s not in a hurry. Instead, he can take the time to talk to Pipit (who looks pretty cool in his uniform and seems more interested in Link’s bird than he is in Link), or he can help out Fledge who’s struggling with barrels, earning a flustering profusion of gratitude from the boy and a good-natured “thank you” from Lunch Lady Henya. Speaking of Henya, she even says to Link, “Say… don’t you have an important ceremony or some such today?” It’s clear as we progress further that many of the villagers see Link as someone they can ask for help, or at the very least someone who will stop to chat for a bit when they call out to him.
Despite this friendly demeanor and charm, we discover another side of Link when we meet Zelda under the Goddess Statue. As happy as she is to see him, she’s not afraid to call him out on his nonsense, claiming he hasn’t been practicing as much for the race as he should be and is, instead, “lazily gliding around. Probably daydreaming!”
While this may sting, Zelda’s own father sets her straight and reminds her that they’ve been friends since childhood — that she was jealous of Link’s Loftwing at one point — and that he’s sure he’ll be fine. The look Zelda has on her face in that moment tells us she believes this too. She may have to push Link (literally) a bit to get him to focus, but in the end, she believes in him.
We all know what happens next: the missing Loftwing, Link’s quest to find it, the race and the ceremony with Zelda. It’s very anime-esque, but more than that, it’s like I said earlier: Link is relatable. Who hasn’t dealt with some sort of a bully getting in your way of things? Who hasn’t felt nervous around your crush? Who hasn’t indulged in sleeping in as often as they could, even if there was a big event coming? Who hasn’t been pushed off the edge of an island by their childhood friend and then saved by a giant bird?
Well, that last one might be a bit of a stretch.
It’s encouraging to think that, despite Link’s flaws, his village and people believe in him. They jump to his aid when his Loftwing is missing, Zelda cheers for him when he’s won the race and teases him just to watch him blush. In some ways, he may be a hero to her before he ever picks up a sword. Aonuma has said that they want us, as the player, to relate to Link, and I never felt more connected to him than I did in Skyward Sword. Those early scenes in the village and with Zelda are so wholesome and normal that it makes all that comes after it so much more devastating.
So perhaps Link doesn’t look like a hero at the offset, with his scruffy hair and puppy dog eyes. But looks can be deceiving, and when push comes to shove (again, literally in Link’s case), you may find that the ones who look the least like heroes might be the most heroic of them all.
