Above image: A spread of Ocarina of Time-related paraphernalia, assembled in honour of the occasion.

Today marks a very special day for a certain green-clad, jar-smashing Hylian.

Link. I’m talking about Link. Who else could I possibly be talking about?

As of today, it’s been twenty-five years since Ocarina of Time first released. Since then, it’s influenced pretty much every Zelda game that’s come after it, and been put on a pretty high pedestal by a lot of fans. It still holds up as a wonderfully enjoyable game, and even though it’s only been a few years since I first played it, it’s left me with fond memories already. I got my cartridge almost four years ago as a birthday present from a local pawn shop where one can often find older games; I was fortunate enough that there was a cartridge of Ocarina along with a—well, not a brand new N64, but one that turned on and generally functioned as an N64 should at least—at the same time. If I recall correctly, I believe that after I left the store I skipped down the sidewalk humming Saria’s Song, bubbling with excitement. 

It was a very exciting thing, having a physical copy of this classic game and being able to play it. It was only a few days later when I first turned it on, began Link’s time-traveling journey, and got promptly permanently traumatized by a horde of vicious screaming Redeads in the Kakariko crypts.

Above image: Link stands in the Kakariko graveyard, presumably trying not to think about the horrors that lie under his feet.

That being said, when I settled down to actually, properly play it a few months later, I was treated with far more than horrifying undead: a horde of challenging puzzles, interesting dungeons, and fun items (like my beloved Hover Boots). There were charming characters, like the saucy yet endearing Princess Ruto and the enigmatic, musical Sheik.  I witnessed the tragedy of Link’s nonexistent childhood and the desolation he woke up to. (Was it wise for the future of Hyrule to depend on such a lazy boy? Navi had a point there.)

I got a chance to see firsthand many of things that would make a profound impact on the rest of the Zelda series, and so much of it was fun and enjoyable. I don’t know if I’d lump the fiendish Bongo Bongo into that category, but I think his shortcomings were made up for in spades by the glorious Phantom Ganon fight, which deserves every bit of praise it’s ever received. 

There was more than one obstacle that completely ground my adventure to a halt; it took me hours to fight the infuriating Stalfos guarding the Fairy Bow and almost as much to navigate the tense timed challenge to get the Megaton Hammer.

I faced the dreaded Water Temple and made it out somewhat alive, a remarkable achievement even using a walkthrough, considering how I, like many players before me, missed that infamous seventh key and got thoroughly clobbered by Morpha.

Above image: It may be low-res, but the atrium of the Water Temple is a pretty place nonetheless. It belies the madness within…

I experienced the wonder of invisible blade traps and the horror of invisible Wallmasters. I played around with the mirror shield, and got repeatedly tossed into jail by petulant Gerudo. (Some things from Ocarina, as you can see, are still prevalent in even the newest Zelda releases.) I even went on a wild hunt to collect all 100 gold skulltula tokens, which meant I essentially had to do each dungeon one and a half times.

Above image: the entrance to the Shadow Temple, home to both the invisible blade traps and the invisible Wallmasters.

I regret nothing. 

I did not partake in any of the horseback archery related challenges, however, because if Breath of the Wild taught me anything, it was to avoid those like a plague of Redeads. (No, I’ve still not gotten over those screeches.)

I’m also lucky enough that my cartridge holds the original version of the game, before Link knew how to jump down a hole and they decided to retcon that Ganondorf bleeds red, because Hylia forbid they humanize him even a little bit. 

Accompanying the release of Ocarina was the introduction of several classic (dare I say iconic) songs into the Zelda zeitgeist, instantly recognizable songs like ‘Song of Storms,’ ‘Song of Time,’ and of course the ever-astounding ‘Gerudo Valley.’ Music is an intrinsic part of the gameplay itself with the clever usage of the titular instrument, which initiates certain effects after you play the correct song. Part of these songs’ charm is just how catchy they are, even if they’re relatively simple due to the hardware’s limitations. The twelve ocarina songs are all between five and eight notes long and consist of only five different pitches, two of which are the same pitch an octave apart; yet they all sound distinct and many have become highly recognizable. For that feat alone, Koji Kondo’s work on this game’s music is remarkable. (This may be the first time I’ve gushed about Kondo’s work for Zelda on this blog, but you can rest assured it won’t be the last.)

Above image: the Forest Temple, home to one of the game’s lesser known but equally brilliant themes. The haunting melody pairs perfectly with the eerie twists of the hallway.

As the first 3D Zelda game, Ocarina is also the first appearance of a lot of classic mainstays in the series.This is the game that introduced us to Zoras that didn’t want us dead (despite Ruto leading unsuspecting players straight into the maw of the Water Temple), the Great Deku Tree, stern Gerudo, and perhaps best of all, the lovable stone-munching Gorons. It also introduced concepts that would be used by games outside the series, such as the now widely spread targeting system, advertised on the back of the box as a new sort of revelation. Which I suppose it was, in 1998.

It was also the first Zelda game where Link had a companion that followed him around spouting advice; whether or not the advice was good is beside the point. Navi may pale in comparison to the glorious Midna and Fi, but she was the first. (Yes, I see those heavy metal bars barring the door. No, I don’t know what Saria would say if she knew I was saving Hyrule.)

Ocarina has built up the sort of reputation among the Zelda fan community that even if you haven’t actually had the pleasure of playing it, you probably know a fair bit about it. Some things, like the Water Temple and Navi’s famous dialogue, “Hey! Listen!” have ascended to such a level of famousness (or perhaps, more accurately, infamy) that they are known well outside the community of fans. 

The game has done a good job at standing the test of time and has brought many fond memories to those who have played it, myself included.