The Wisdom of the Waiting Princess

The Wisdom of the Waiting Princess is an empowering feminist reading of how the trope of the “captive princess” applies to the Zelda of the original 1986 game. While this Zelda is an action hero in her own right, her wisdom manifests in her remarkable ability to lay plans for the future.

You can read the essay on AO3 here:
https://archiveofourown.org/works/67410167

I had the honor of contributing this essay to Silent Princess: A Zelda Zine. The zine’s website is on Carrd (here), and you can check out the art and writing featured in the zine on its Tumblr site (here). Leftover sales of the zine merch are currently open (here), and you can still pick up a digital copy of the zine (here). All profits from zine sales will go to support Doctors Without Borders.

This original design for Princess Zelda was created by Hollarity, who put an incredible amount of love and care into portraying the character as a courageous young woman who is fully capable of going on her own adventures. You can find more of Holly’s gorgeous artwork on her website (here).

The Sleeping Princess

There is a legend in Hyrule that a sleeping princess lies behind the door of a locked room deep under the ruins of the North Castle. When the princess rises, so too will the ancient powers sealed within her dreams. Impa knows the legend is true, and she fears the fate that will befall the kingdom should the first Zelda wake. Yet when a shadow rises on the borders of Hyrule after the birth of a new princess, Impa must make a terrible choice.

I had the honor of contributing a story called “The Sleeping Princess” to Blood Moon Rising: A Zelda Horror Zine. I was interested in exploring the background of Princess Zelda in the original 1986 game, and I thought it might be fun to see her story through the eyes of Impa, who knew about the undead princess who was the first of Zelda’s line. In other words, I’m connecting some of the more disturbing threads between The Legend of Zelda and Zelda II: The Adventure of Link.

“The Sleeping Princess” is a story about maternal love, political sacrifice, and the dark secrets hidden within the labyrinthine dungeons of Hyrule. I was strongly inspired by H.P. Lovecraft’s novel At the Mountains of Madness, which dwells in the geometric terror of monumental architecture built by strange hands, and I did my best to create a sense of ruined grandeur similar to that of Dark Souls and Ico: Castle in the Mist.

For the story’s illustrations, I had the incredible pleasure of working with the devilishly talented Pumpkinsouppe, whose dark arts brought this ruined world to life.

You can find “The Sleeping Princess” on AO3 here:
https://archiveofourown.org/works/62492182

Leftover sales of the zine are open until February 24 on BigCartel (here).

Silent Princess Zine Preorders Open

I’m proud to have contributed a nonfiction meta essay to Silent Princess, a fanzine celebrating Princess Zelda.

My essay, “The Wisdom of the Waiting Princess,” offers an empowering feminist reading of how the trope of the “captive princess” applies to the Zelda of the original 1986 game. My goal is to demonstrate that, while this Zelda is an action hero in her own right, her wisdom lies in patience, strategy, and the careful coordination of allies.

Silent Princess contains a sparkling treasure trove of essays, stories, comics, and illustrations, and I can’t wait for everyone to see the amazing work the team has created.

Preorders for the fanzine are open until January 6 on Bigcartel here:
🌟 https://silentprincesszine.bigcartel.com/

Necromancer Zelda

Echoes of Wisdom is growing on me, and I especially love how Zelda fights by rapid-summoning monsters to overwhelm her enemies. I suppose Zelda is technically creating “echoes” instead of resurrecting her defeated foes, but she still reminds me of the Tears of the Kingdom trailer in which Ganondorf triggers the Blood Moon, summons a bunch of monsters, and tells them to “sweep over Hyrule.” Necromancy seems like a very fun gig if you can get it.

This comic was drawn by the horrifically talented Frankiesbugs, whose cute and creepy illustrations and comics can be found on Tumblr (here), on Instagram (here), on Cara (here), and on Redbubble (here).

When the Moon Didn’t Fall

All the clocks in Clock Town have stopped working, and letters have stopped arriving from the Gerudo in the Great Bay. Both the clock master’s daughter and the swamp witches’ son sense that something is amiss. Slowly they come to understand one another while their world gradually winds itself apart.

When the Moon Didn’t Fall is a short novella that imagines what Zelda and Ganon would look like in the world of Majora’s Mask. According to the Legend of Zelda Encyclopedia, Termina only exists as a dream inside Link’s mind, and it’s interesting to analyze how the events and characters of Majora’s Mask reflect the trauma that Link experienced in Ocarina of Time. I therefore wanted to use Termina as a stage to explore the trauma of Zelda and Ganon, specifically within the context of a dream that’s rapidly fading.

I think it’s fair to admit that I was strongly inspired by Stephen King’s 1990 novella “The Langoliers,” which is a disturbing bit of speculation concerning what happens to the world of the past after the present has already moved on. I tried to capture a similar sense of time (literally) running out, a theme that felt appropriate to the anxiety-inducing atmosphere of Majora’s Mask. Like “The Langoliers,” When the Moon Didn’t Fall has elements of uncanniness and horror, but it’s also about forgiveness, healing, and hope for the future.

I originally wrote this story back in 2018, but it still holds a special place in my heart. I completed a substantial set of edits so that I could include one of the early chapters in my portfolio of writing samples for The Whispers of Hyrule, an upcoming Legend of Zelda fanzine celebrating Hyrule’s forests. I love the swamp forest bordering the open plains of Majora’s Mask, and I enjoyed revisiting the strange green spaces of Termina through this fic.  

You can read the full story on AO3 here:
https://archiveofourown.org/works/14093202/

The story illustration was created by the dangerously talented Thali, whose cool and creepy video game art can be found on Twitter (here), on Instagram (here), and on Tumblr (here).

A Zelda Game Starring Princess Zelda

When the first trailer for Tears of the Kingdom was posted in June 2019, fans were excited about Princess Zelda’s new cropped haircut. Perhaps this meant she would be a playable character, people speculated, as it meant that no weapons or armor would have to clip through her hair. In November 2020, Zelda was indeed one of the main playable characters in Age of Calamity. Although it’s great fun to use Zelda’s magical light blasts to part seas of swarming enemies, it was also somewhat disappointing that the gameplay of Age of Calamity positioned Zelda as just another fighter, while Zelda was largely absent from the gameplay of Tears of the Kingdom.

No one can deny that Zelda is an important character in the games that bear her name, but it’s a shame to see her sidelined. My frustration with Tears of the Kingdom made me wonder what the gameplay of a title that focused on Princess Zelda might look like…

I recently had the opportunity to write a short essay for the Zelda Creators community blog based on this month’s creative prompt, “How would you design a Legend of Zelda game?” I’ve been thinking about what Princess Zelda might look like as a video game protagonist for years, and it was a lot of fun to share my ideas. I included some illustrations that I’ve commissioned over the years that envision Princess Zelda as a playable character, and the art used for the preview graphic is by the wise and powerful Benvey0 on Tumblr.

If you’d like to read the full essay, you can find it here:
https://www.zeldacreators.com/blog/a-not-so-silent-princess

Divine Beast

Zelda returns to her original form after the defeat of the Demon King. But, after so many years, is the being that comes back to Link entirely human? Zelda has appetites better suited to claws and fangs, but Link resolves to care for her, no matter the cost. This is a story about Zelda attacking and eating frogs, and cuccos, and horses… and possibly something with even sweeter flesh.

I’ve been enjoying Tears of the Kingdom, but I’m frustrated by its story. I love all the characters, and I think the game’s broad narrative arc is an interesting reimagining of Ocarina of Time. Still, there are many elements of Tears of the Kingdom that I find unsatisfying, especially its ending. I understand the plot mechanics of what happens, which are nicely explained in (this post) on Tumblr, but Zelda’s complete reversion to her human form doesn’t sit easy in my mind. Is it really possible for a transformation of such magnitude to have no lasting effects? Did the sacrifice Zelda made really have such little weight?

Tears of the Kingdom fails to attach meaning to its worldbuilding in a way that very few Legend of Zelda games have in the past. It’s understandable to dismiss these games as childish heroic fantasies. Still, at some point, the true darkness of each game’s story expresses itself. The player may have seen the plot through the limited viewpoint of Link, the teenage “chosen one,” but the crumbling kingdom of Hyrule looks substantially different through the eyes of other characters. Link will emerge triumphant and ride off into the sunset, but everyone else has to live in the ruins, and it’s only very late in his quest that Link realizes this. With this realization, the player can begin to put together the missing pieces of a much larger story.

Despite having an incredible potential to expand on the many mysteries of Hyrule, Tears of the Kingdom does its best to simplify its story to a single one-dimensional layer: Ganon is bad. By defeating Ganon, Link gets rid of everything that’s wrong with the world, meaning that everything in Hyrule is now good again. This is all that matters. What happened in Breath of the Wild doesn’t matter. What happened in the ancient era doesn’t matter. What happened to the Zonai doesn’t matter. None of Hyrule’s past matters, nor does its future. In the endless present of the game, Zelda only exists as a vessel for “good,” and the only important thing is that Link saves her.

As much as I love Zelda, I resent that she only exists as a plot device and a reward for the player. While superficially turning Zelda into a superhero, Tears of the Kingdom robs her of agency. I generally like happy endings, but I hate the conclusion of Tears of the Kingdom. Simply put: it’s happy, but it’s boring. What I therefore wanted to do with “Divine Beast” was to make Zelda’s decision more interesting by ensuring that it has consequences. I also wanted to give the worldbuilding of Tears of the Kingdom a bit of the weight and depth it deserves.

And, more than anything, I want Link and Zelda to be free.

“Divine Beast” is complete at 2,000 words, and you can read it on AO3 here:
https://archiveofourown.org/works/49296496

I drew the illustration myself. You can follow my art on Tumblr (here) or on Instagram (here).

Hyrule’s Finest Teas

Link is a second-year college student who works as a barista at a small café on a cobblestone street next to his university. Every day he waters the plants, samples new teas, and listens patiently to the concerns of the people who visit. He especially enjoys the company of one of the regulars, a posh upperclassman named Zelda who comes to the café every day to write. It would be the perfect job if not for his boss, whose excellent taste does little to blunt the edge of his exacting standards.

It took me years of being in fandom to reach this point, but I finally embraced the cliché of writing a Coffeeshop AU. I had an intense Fall 2022 semester, and I wrote “Hyrule’s Finest Teas and Imports” to let off steam during the winter break. This started as a wholesome story about delicious café food, but it gradually transformed into something a bit darker. While I was thinking about why someone like Ganondorf would manage a café, I did a lot of research into the shady real estate practices common around college campuses in the United States. I ultimately decided that it would be fun for Ganondorf to commit tax fraud. As a treat.

The story is complete at four chapters and 9,200 words. It’s on AO3 here:
https://archiveofourown.org/works/43918116/chapters/110424639

I was extremely fortunate to work with the magical Mirarasol on an illustration for this story. Mirarasol creates lovely artwork of cute characters inhabiting stylish interiors, and they’ve done fan art for a number of games in addition to their original illustrations. If you’re interested, you can check out their work on Twitter (here) and on Instagram (here).  

Hylia’s Chosen Knight

I had a horrible thought about the Legend of the Zelda mythology the other day. Demise’s curse supposedly follows the bloodline of the goddess Hylia, so all she needs to do to release Hyrule from an endless cycle of destruction is to stop reincarnating as a mortal. Why she insists on being reincarnated isn’t clear, but Skyward Sword strongly suggests that it’s because she loves Link so much. This is a little creepy…

…but I have nothing but unironic respect for ancient deities who behave like teenage girls!

Once I started thinking about Hylia being creepy, all sorts of interesting possibilities presented themselves. What if Hylia isn’t just a “goddess,” but also completely inhuman? What if she isn’t a sky goddess, but a being from beyond the sky? And what if it’s not necessarily Link she loved, but Hyrule? The idea of an eldritch cosmic entity who wants to become human because she loves the earth is beautiful. It’s also romantic, sort of like The Little Mermaid but endlessly apocalyptic.

Then I started thinking about the Sheikah, the group of people who have historically served Hyrule’s royal family from the shadows. In Breath of the Wild, the ancient Sheikah built incredibly sophisticated technology that is completely at odds with the otherwise medieval world of the game. In addition, their technology also features cosmic and sidereal motifs. What if the Sheikah always knew what Hylia was?

I was partially inspired by (this) comic about how potentially creepy Hylia is in Skyward Sword, and by (this) illustration of Zelda as subtly but undeniably monstrous. I’m fascinated by darker interpretations of the Legend of Zelda universe, and I would love to see more horror-themed Zelda art in the world. While I’m waiting for the sequel to Breath of the Wild to be released, I figured that I might as well create some myself.

Frankiesbugs is one of my all-time favorite horror artists, and I was beyond thrilled when she accepted my commission to draw this comic. She had the brilliant idea to model Hylia on Ebrietas from Bloodborne, who bears the sobriquet “Daughter of the Cosmos” and is theorized to have enabled the dystopian world of the game because of her desire to coexist with humans. Frankiesbugs also drew a connection between the iconic eye motif of the Sheikah and the possibility of Hylia having multiple eyes as someone who watches the earth from the skies – or as someone who always keeps watch over her chosen hero.

Frankiesbugs posts original horror art and video game fan art on Instagram, on Tumblr, and on Twitter, as well as on Teepublic and on Redbubble if you’re interested in wearing some creepy-cute graphic design.

Growing Up with The Legend of Zelda

The Legend of Zelda series has been criticized for its formulaic writing, but one of the strengths of its archetypal characters is that they allow room for multiple interpretations. I was born in the same year as the Zelda series, and my perspective on these characters and their stories has shifted as I’ve grown older.

When I was a kid, I loved Link. I had no innate skill as a gamer, but I enjoyed the thrill of running wild in Hyrule. I may not have fully understood the game mechanics, but this meant I was always discovering new things. Despite my many deaths, I reveled in the certainty that I was a force of good fighting for justice, and it was comforting to know that all I had to do in order to succeed was to follow the marks on my map.  

In my late teens, I began to identify more with Princess Zelda. As my view of the world became wider, I realized that it wasn’t always the best course of action to charge forward with an unsheathed sword. I also came to understand that it was impossible for me to be a lone hero. There were times when I would be at the mercy of forces beyond my control, and sometimes I would need to rely on the strength of other people to achieve my goals.  

Now that I’m an adult, I can’t help but sympathize with Ganondorf. The world is infinitely complicated and filled with impossible decisions. Even though you may have the best of intentions, it’s inevitable that some people will see you as a villain when you challenge the status quo. If you want the power to change the world, you have to forge your own path, and no one will give you a map marked with signposted quests to complete. Still, as long as you’re making your own rules, you might as well be stylish and have gorgeous hair.

The Legend of Zelda series has become a type of modern mythology. The games continue to be relevant not just because of the strength of their gameplay, but also because of the resonance of their archetypes in the lives of the people who grow up with their stories. Instead of growing out of the Zelda series, I’ve found that I’ve grown to appreciate it more now that I can relate to the characters through multiple levels of lived experience.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

This essay and its accompanying illustration were originally published in Coin-Operated Press’s Nerd! Zine anthology. You can check out the zine on the press’s website (here).