The Legend of Zelda: Skyward Sword

Skyward Sword possesses one of the longest openings in the series, encompassing over sixty minutes of light gameplay mixed with extended cutscenes. Although it uses this time to set up its major characters and the world they inhabit, the location changes, expository dialogue, and unnecessary repetition result in an awkward experience.

The opening begins with the retelling of a legend that has been passed down for generations. This is a common beginning for Zelda games, as it quickly establishes the framework for the narrative. When the legend ends, the story cycles through two quick scenes: a monster breaking through the ground and a girl giving a letter to a bird. The game is now three scenes deep with no signs of a protagonist, leaving the audience with no attachment point. This lack of ground continues with the protagonist’s introduction, as it occurs in a dream sequence. Since this scene is disconnected from reality, the audience still cannot connect with the protagonist. 

The protagonist is introduced in scene four, when the boy from the dream jolts awake on the floor next to his bed. The purple shoebill from the third scene is leaning through his window with a letter. It spits the letter in the protagonist’s face, then departs. 

Rubbing the back of his head, the boy opens the letter and reads it. “Rise and shine, Link!” it says. “Today’s the Wing Ceremony! You promised to meet me before it starts, remember? You’d better not keep me waiting. – Zelda.” With this single letter, both the boy and the girl get names—Link and Zelda, respectively—and Link is given a mission: to meet Zelda before the Wing Ceremony. Using a letter to convey that information may be a common trope, but it’s a simple and effective method that gives the player everything they need without relying on tool-tips or narration. 

After running errands for a few people in town (and learning how to move along the way), Link meets with Zelda. She tells him she’s glad her Loftwing got him out of bed, which gives the player the local name for the shoebills. She also shares a few tidbits about her harp and the outfit she’s wearing for the ceremony, as she’ll be playing the goddess. While this segment qualifies as exposition, it also adds to Zelda’s characterization by showing her enthusiasm for her culture. 

Zelda’s father appears, interrupting their conversation. Suddenly, Zelda isn’t so optimistic. She’s worried Link won’t win the race at the ceremony and won’t be chosen to perform with her afterward. Apparently, Link hasn’t been practicing with his Loftwing enough. Zelda’s father counters by saying Link’s unique bond with his Loftwing should be enough to carry him through. This is a particularly egregious example of telling, rather than showing, on the part of Zelda’s father. Rather than let Link’s bond with his Loftwing come through organically, Zelda’s father states it explicitly. This creates certain expectations in the player’s mind for what Link’s relationship with his Loftwing should look like. Had Zelda’s father not said anything about their bond, the player would have room to come to their own conclusions about the relationship. Instead, they’re given a standard that the narrative must now meet. 

Although Zelda’s father takes great pains to assuage his daughter’s fears, she’s still convinced that Link is doomed to lose the race. He could even do so badly that it jeopardizes his ability to become a knight, which is the entire point of their academy. To make sure he graduates on-time, she insists he practice beforehand, but his practice is derailed when he can’t find his Loftwing. This sets up another goal for the player: find the missing Loftwing. 

As Link searches Skyloft for his mount, he overhears a pack of three other students talking in the plaza. One of them says: “…You know, Groose, that sure was a pain, what with all the scratching and pecking.” The red-head with the pompadour, Groose, replies: “Course it was. You thought a big Crimson Loft wing like that was gonna go down without a fight? But we got him, and I don’t care how tough those birds are supposed to be. He’s not getting out of that pen anytime soon, boys.” This dialogue is slightly unnatural, as it reads like it’s been spoken for Link’s benefit. Still, it does the job of giving Link the information he needs while establishing Groose’s character as an arrogant antagonist. 

Groose realizes they have company and turns, shocked, but he quickly recovers and begins antagonizing Link. He says that Link only cares about winning because the prize is alone-time with Zelda. When Link challenges him to a fight, Groose laughs and accuses Link of believing he has a ‘special’ relationship with Zelda because of their long history together. It’s yet another example of the story feeding us character details instead of letting them unfold naturally through narrative. Still, it also does the additional work of reinforcing how Groose is fixated on Zelda—who happens to be right behind him. 

Zelda admonishes Groose for bullying Link, humiliating him in front of his friends. He’s forced to hop off the edge of the continent to escape the conversation. With him out of the way, Link and Zelda track Link’s bird to a ledge on the underside of Skyloft. After Link frees his Loftwing, Zelda confesses that she’s been hearing voices calling out to her. She then muses about the world beneath the clouds, which she’s only heard about in legends. It’s her dream to go down there and see it for herself someday. This moment serves two purposes: one, building the world; and two, defining Zelda’s character. She has a want, which is to see what’s below the clouds, and the narrative must address that want at some point to leave the player satisfied. 

With his Loftwing’s help, Link wins the race and earns the right to participate in the ceremony with Zelda. At the top of the statue, she plays her harp and offers the bird statuette Link won to the goddess, then gives him the traditional Sailcloth that she stitched herself. This marks the end of the opening segment. All of the protagonists have been named, the preliminary setting has been explored, and at least one minor antagonist has been introduced. Some of those things could have been done in less time by stripping away the repetition from the dialogue; others were elongated so that players had time to learn the unique controls. Regardless of the reasons behind the pacing issues, they’re an early knock against an otherwise promising story. Thankfully, the pacing improves in the next phase of the story: the Inciting Incident.