Ocarina of Time was both my first Zelda title and my first Nintendo 64 game. I got to play it on my brother’s console, which he only owned briefly before trading up for the Sega Dreamcast (a decision that my six-year-old self greatly resented, but unfortunately, I had no say in the matter). My gaming experience up until that point mostly consisted of Super Mario World on the SNES, so when I first laid eyes on Ocarina of Time, it blew my 16-bit mind. Fully-rendered 3D graphics were a sight to behold back in the early 2000s, and those of us who remember those days will attest to how titles like Ocarina of Time completely revolutionized the gaming experience.
Our starting location in the game is, of course, the lovely Kokiri Forest, which contains plenty of areas to explore. Most Zelda fans will remember the triumph of finally being able to leave the forest after conquering the first dungeon. Outside of the Kokiri Forest lies Hyrule Field, which is a kind of open-world environment, though not by today’s gaming standards. You are free to roam to your heart’s content, but only a few destinations are available to you at this early stage of the game. I spent many of my early hours of the game just exploring and wandering aimlessly, with no particular destination in mind.
When I first ventured onto Hyrule Field, I noticed all these real-world mechanics, such as the passage of time, starting to appear. However, I did not realize that when night falls, things get a little spooky. If you do find yourself in Hyrule Field at night, you don’t want to linger in one spot for too long, lest the Stalchildren suddenly pop out of the earth like horrific, zombified daisies. Many a night did I suffer horrible dreams featuring those creepy, red-eyed walking skeletons, my only refuge Kakariko Village, a shining beacon in the distance. It’s no surprise that Kakariko quickly became one of my favorite locations in the game. Unfortunately, one has to leave in order to trigger the normal flow of time, but it often served as a peaceful refuge from the onslaught of Stalchildren that my childhood self could not muscle up the courage to confront.
Fortunately, this traumatizing experience did not deter me from completing the rest of the game (which took an embarrassing number of years that I would prefer not to disclose here), and my love for Zelda only grew after that. I personally think of Ocarina of Time as a mere appetizer to Majora’s Mask, which really shows us how dark Zelda can be in more ways than one. But on the bright side, I’m no longer scared of the Stalchildren coming after me. Now I can proudly say that adult me has fully embraced spooky Zelda as the ultimate gaming experience. (Here’s looking at you, Dead Hand!)
