~ Ｍ ＡＣＩＮＴＯＳＨ ＭＩＮＵＳ ~

We've seen lots of games attempt to recapture that same magic over the years, sometimes even other Zelda games, but none of them have stuck the landing in my opinion because they focus on expanding the mechanics set (Adding crafting systems, more RPG mechanics, focusing on economic trade, etc.) and all those go against what I feel is WW's greatest strength: Powerlessness.

In WW, you sail a glorified talking canoe with a sail grafted onto it. You sail that dinky little vessel across a massive, uncaring ocean where an indescribable beast can assault you at any moment and knock you into the abyss, a giant kraken can blot out the sun and drag you down to the sea floor, a hurricane can toss you halfway across the planet, or even just a faceless bigger ship with more firepower can try to sink you with cannon fire. You? You barely have a single cannon and a few gadgets to defend yourself. You're just a little red leaf floating on infinite uncharted waters, and the game makes sure you damn well FEEL that way.

Alone, this would result in a depressing experience where you fight to survive whenever you step offshore. But Wind Waker's sense of discovery - that loop of seeing an island silhouette on the horizon becoming more detailed as you approach it - is the savor to the spice of powerlessness that makes the whole game work. Nothing can recreate the feeling of watching the skies blacken with eternal rain and night for the first time while chasing Nauru's Pearl, swearing I just saw the shadow of a titan moving deep under the waves amongst the noise of composite video on a cheap TV set late one night. It humbles the player and inspires your imagination just through fight or flight instinct.

Every sailing game I've played has added mechanics that end up necessarily empowering players as reward for engaging with them. That's standard practice in game design and is generally regarded as a good idea if you want players to keep playing, especially if you're a small team who can't make a huge fleshed out ocean map and instead rely on iterative stat-driven systems to extend the depth of your game. But these approaches lead to the same end: Making the world a domain to be conquered.

When I played Windbound a while back, I struggled to explain why it didn't grab me like Wind Waker did, but then I realized this problem. Once your numbers are high enough from spending enough time on islands such that you understand the mechanics thoroughly, you start to ONLY be able to see the game as a series of numbers. Gotta keep your hunger meter from depleting. Gotta craft upgrades for your ship. Gotta manage your inventory. Gotta optimize every single interaction in the game. I wasn't an awestruck visitor in this fantastical waterworld anymore, I was just crunching numbers to optimize my progress over time. It was a very depressing realization to just look at the screen and no longer see a world - I could only see blue pixels.

This is a problem that all RPGs that want you to get lost in their world have to solve to some degree depending on the tone they wish the establish. For countless RPGs I've played, this is barely an issue since their stories play to the strengths of that gradual mastery and empowerment. That's great! I love it when that's executed well!

But for a sailing game looking to chart the same course as Wind Waker? No. The sea is vast, untamed, and beautiful, and you are but a humble wanderer in it.

(Image Source: https://www.deviantart.com/orioto/art/Wind-s-Requiem-704422823)

I finished the Anju and Kafei sidequest tonight in my Majora's Mask replay, and... god, even though I've played this quest a few times already and I knew what was coming, it still gets me every time.

You can only finish the sidequest organically by REALLY getting to know the routines and motivations and lives of the whole town, and then keep pursuing it throughout a whole 3 day cycle, only to be able to finish it in the last minute of existence.

Waiting in the Stock Pot Inn as the counter ticks down, even if you've finished it before, you can't help but start to worry that maybe Kafei won't make it in time. After spending this much time and effort to bring these two together, you can't help but see these characters as people, and the world itself as a living thing.

But even when he shows up, and the two exchange their wedding vows, the threat of doomsday looms just moments away. But these two know that, and they accept it. The line that always gives me chills comes at the very end of the quest, when Anju says:

"Please take refuge. We are fine here. We shall greet the morning... together."

It's such a perfect microcosm of the game's themes of learning to accept the inevitability of death, and living the best life you can until then. Even though you have to undo everything you did to help these two right after they get together again, is that the same as having done nothing at all? Is doing good meaningless if it doesn't last? I don't believe so. You are the one thing which persists in all this, and did this ordeal not also change you? Did it not make you see the world with more kindness and empathy than when you began, and will that not change your actions going forward?

In a world where all life is fleeting, kindness is valuable in itself. You don't need a reason to help others, and helping those around you - even in an imperceptible or temporary way - is part of what makes life worth living for all of us.

The fact that Link cannot save everyone in Termina in just 3 short days may be unfortunate, but such is life. We do the best in the time we have to make life better, and when we pass on, we hope to leave the world a better place than when we entered it. Anju and Kafei will live on in the hearts of players everywhere, their love eternal in the memories of those who facilitated it as the world came to an end. And I think that's more than enough to be meaningful.