(Originally published to Glitchwave on 5/14/2025)
[Image from glitchwave.com]
The Legend of Zelda: Oracle of Ages
Developer: Flagship
Publisher: Nintendo
Genre(s): Action-Adventure
Platforms: Game Boy Color
Release Date: February 27, 2001
The player will have to trust my assertion of Age’s differences from Seasons, for the game’s introduction might prove otherwise. Once again, Link is abruptly summoned to adventure by some sort of cosmic influence, and he awakens in a pleasant spot of grass in an unfamiliar land. This time around, the goddess whose the center of attention in this scene is Nayru, the blue sister of Din, who is alternately more demure than her fiery, self-assured sister. A crowd of curious people surrounds Nayru as she serenades them, but her modest performance is interrupted by a malevolent force. This time around, it’s not Onox with a violent windstorm. The evil perpetrator is a witchy succubus named Veran, who infiltrates the gathering by possessing series staple character Impa to get close enough to the goddess and take full control of her personal autonomy. The plot premises between Ages and Seasons ring so eerily similar that one’s initial assumption of these twin titles being pallet-swapped clones like a pair of Pokemon games. Still, despite the litany of copied properties with a few minor differences, one major implement Ages inserts into its story is the addition of a deuteragonist of sorts. Ralph is apparently Nayru’s de facto guardian, tardily arriving on the scene of her capture and expressing the most zeal for the situation at hand. He’s certainly committed to his role of taking all of the proverbial bullets for the lovely Nayru, and he’s made it a competition with Link to be the one who wins her freedom over the control of Veran and possibly her heart by proxy. I don’t have the heart to tell this poor sap that his efforts will be all for naught, or at least in the department I’m certain he yearns for. Considering that the conflict narrative took a backseat in the nosebleed sections of Seasons until the climactic point of the adventure, it’s nice to see that Ages is implementing a character that will remind the player of the quest’s purpose from time to time.
The Game Boy Color’s pixelated graphics might also make the player believe that Ages’ takes place in the same setting as Seasons, but Labrynna exhibits plenty of fundamental differences from the map of Holodrum. While Seasons tended to evoke elements from the first Zelda game as a sign of the series’ evolution in fifteen years, Ages conversely revels in a prosperous, post-Ocarina period of the franchise. Labrynna shares as many typical topographical features that comprise a Zelda overworld as Holodrum, but the differences lie in what exists in those naturalistic regions. Mountains still tower over Labrynna in the north, but these hilly peaks are the grounds of the Gorons, a major race of rock creatures who were only seen in the 3D Zelda titles up until this point. I suppose the aquatic fish whose heads emerge from under the water to spit balls of fire are classified as “Zoras,” and they are here in the rivers of Labrynna to hurl flaming loogies at all angles relative to Link’s position. For the first time, the domesticated, articulate Zoras from Ocarina of Time coexist with their hostile, neanderthal cousins. In addition to districting sizable sections of the map to two of Ocarina’s major races, Labrynna also has the Zelda world standards of a hub village near the spawn point, graveyards, and grassy plains that stretch for miles. In the context of Ages’ prevalent obtuseness, I suppose the more pressing question regarding the overworld is how difficult it is to navigate through. Surprisingly, I’d make the argument for Holodrum being the more arduous overworld to traverse through, for there are four seasonal conditions that complicate the terrain. This isn’t to say that progressing through Labrynna is smooth sailing throughout, but my experience constantly changing the terrain of Holodrum with the “Rod of Seasons” made all of the progression snags in Labrynna far more approachable. Like Seasons, general progression is hinted at by the wise Maku Tree located around the vicinity of the overworld’s primary village hub. However, the key difference with this character/traversal aid is that in Ages, it’s a younger, gender-swapped version of the mighty, omniscient oak. A distinctly feminine tree isn’t inherently odd, but the bulging, kawaii eyes and facial expressions are slightly disturbing. The female Maku Tree even develops a crush on Link because, naturally, it's her feminine duty to find our intrepid hero sexually irresistible. Is anyone else uncomfortable?
Traversal through Labrynna also acts in conjunction with the game’s “alternate setting.” In Seasons, a land called Subrosia was nestled between a dimensional rift under Holodrum, showcasing a dynamic relationship between both lands, bonded by the core mechanical gimmick of the game. Technically, Ages doesn’t have an alternate setting, complete with its separate zip code and radically different environment. The portals that appear in the square patterns in select spots on the ground will instead transport Link to Labrynna about a century in the past. The general graphical color palette shifts from bright and vivid to a muted tone to discern and signify the two eras of Labrynna’s history, and topographical elements are warped around ever-so-slightly to suggest that approximately one hundred years is enough time for land masses and manmade architectures to naturally bend with the passing of time. With this mechanic at play, Ages yet again reminds us that despite its rudimentary pixels, it’s a game that succeeds the more technically expansive 3D titles of the series. Time travel has been used as a mechanical and narrative conceit for both Ocarina of Time and Majora’s Mask, so I’m going to have to deduct points from Ages for aping a series standard instead of carving out its own distinctive, untested gimmick like its Oracle twin. Still, I’ll give Ages credit for providing the clearest display of time travel and its effects through its gameplay. Unlike Ocarina, whose cataclysmic event was sandwiched ambiguously between two playable time periods and the ephemeral three-day reset of Majora’s Mask, the cause and effect of altering Labrynna’s history showcases a permanent change in its present. For example, King Zora is absent in the present day of Zora’s Domain because he succumbed to an illness, but Link can give him a potion that cures his terminal ailment, so he’s still sitting on his throne in the future. A token of “brotherhood” received from Goron legends will help Link navigate through the present-day Goron tribe, and the Maku Tree’s affections for Link stem from him performing a kind deed for her when she was just a sproutling. The paradoxical nature of time travel is treated with a surprisingly direct correlation, almost as masterfully as Chrono Trigger. It utilizes the premise of time travel more tactfully than either of the 3D games preceding it.
Link uses a mythical harp to transport back to Labrynna’s glory(?) days, an instrument obviously influenced by the time-altering properties of the ocarina. In relation to how the “Rod of Seasons” was the integral item in employing the game’s core mechanic, the “Harp of Ages” is also accompanied by a slew of other tools at Link’s disposal. Because Ages focuses its gameplay on puzzles instead of combat, some items have been swapped to appropriately complement a more wit-oriented Zelda experience. Platforming-intensive items like the Roc’s Cape and the magnetic gloves are no longer of relevant use, but other items replace them to round out Link’s arsenal. A regular hookshot replaces the magnetic gloves in spirit, and clinging to objects out of Link’s reach propels him to areas he’d have issues climbing otherwise. The Cane of Somaria makes its valiant return from A Link to the Past to materialize blocks to use in stamping down button switches and navigating through platforms with invisible trajectories. The seeds are just as prevalent here as they were in Seasons, but the apparatus that turns them into projectile ammunition is a tube that shoots a single seed. Subtracting the simultaneous flinging of multiple seeds may be disappointing if one has played Seasons first, but the aerodynamic force of the tube allows the seeds to ricochet across all the walls momentarily, allowing the player to coordinate their seed shots as if they are playing billiards. If the physics involved with the seed shooter is any indication, the items in store foster the puzzle-latent gameplay of Ages beautifully as the items did for the respective gameplay ethos of Seasons.
When discussing the utility of the weapons available in Ages, I’m mostly referring to instances in the game’s dungeons. Still, the range of Ages puzzles expands far beyond the enclosed parameters of dungeon progression. When I stated that Labrynna was easier to traverse than Holodrum, I meant generally walking about the game’s overworld. When it comes to progressing from point A to B, B usually pertaining to the next dungeon, Ages maintains its puzzle-laden mechanics throughout its run time to such a degree that it’s almost absurd. The entirety of Ages is denser than the deepest of ocean seafloors and stacked with more concurrent ingredients to contend with than eating a triple-decker club sandwich. Sure, the Maku Tree gives Link a general cardinal direction to the next essence, but arriving there is consistently a serpentine zigzagging through seemingly innumerable impediments. Ages isn’t just inclined to not hold the player’s hand at any given point: it expects them to execute feats of traversal equivalent to finding one’s way around a cemetery at night while blindfolded. If the player manages to come close to their destination, one core hindrance will often lead them four or five steps behind. For example, the animal buddies are featured here again, albeit less prominently than in Seasons. To navigate around a bit of terrain on the path to a dungeon, Link needs the special capabilities of one animal buddy, but only one will be of use due to a predetermined selection. Because I was unaware that I had to procure the respective horn that calls either Ricky or Dimitri, I had to find the whereabouts of the uncharacteristically-colored Moosh far away from the place where he was needed and return to the complication at hand while riding on his backside. Before Link can access the third dungeon, Link must first regain all of his tools that have been stolen by a group of bipedal lizard folk who reside on a remote island located at the southeastern corner of the map. The process of taking back what is rightfully Link’s incorporates heavy usage of warping to and fro from past to present, which will happen so frequently that it’s almost recommended that the player plot a schematic chart that details each step. The same process is equally applicable to entering Zora’s Domain, which also involves submerging Link underwater in addition to performing a time warp every few steps. These are only a few examples, as I could easily use every trek to a dungeon in Ages as an example of how complex every waking moment is on the field of Labyrnna. On paper, turning the traversal of the overworld into a ceaseless puzzle box is admirable from a design standpoint. In execution, constantly having to backtrack due to not seeing the game’s intended trajectory quickly becomes vexing and overwhelming.
Don’t get me wrong, the puzzles featured in Ages’ dungeons exhibit a display of constant brainteasers to contend with as rich and demanding as the ones in the overworld. I stated that the consistent issue that plagued the dungeons in Seasons was that each of them felt far more vacant compared to the lavish, detailed ones from previous Zelda titles. With Ages, the aesthetic layout of each dungeon is equally as lacking in terms of foreground properties, but it’s far less bothersome here. One doesn’t have time to bemoan the middling magnificence of the dungeon when they’re wracking their brains in every corner. Setpieces from Seasons transfer over, such as the train carts and turnstiles, and they are incorporated heavily into the mix of progress impediments that litter each of Ages’ dungeons. Joining them to make every inch of Ages’ dungeons as complex as trigonometry are colored cubes meant to be rotated into a fixture to unlock doors and colored walkways where Link mustn't retrace his steps. At least one of these puzzles is dedicated to filling a room per dungeon, but each of these labyrinths displays its own quirks that make them all distinctively challenging. The “Crown Dungeon” involves several gates that are color-coded red or blue, where the gates of one color can only be accessed at a time. “Moonlit Grotto” acts as a light version of “Eagle’s Tower” from Link’s Awakening, where Link must find and destroy a series of blue crystals to unlock a passageway to the dungeon’s final boss. Link uses a new item called the “Mermaid Suit” to swim beneath the trenches of “Mermaid’s Cave” without needing a brief breath of air, while he conversely makes a conscious effort not to dip into the boiling lava surrounding the platforms of “Skull Dungeon.” While emphasizing the puzzles of these dungeons has made them more memorable than the ones from Seasons, a fraction of their resonance is due to feelings of frustration. Because the puzzles per room in Ages’ dungeons are so dense, any dungeon that requires a substantial amount of backtracking is a goddamn nightmare. This is especially the case for the game’s later dungeons, notably “Ancient Tomb” and “Jabu-Jabu’s Belly.” I’d get so irritated trying to retrace my steps in these dungeons that I started to abuse the checkpoints situated between the beginning and the miniboss to regain my foothold, something I never resorted to in Seasons. The latter dungeon mentioned, a top-down 2D iteration of the fish behemoth’s innards, is by far the most maddening Zelda dungeon I’ve ever experienced, adding the elements of draining water in between grueling amounts of backtracking. When people state that they hate Jabu-Jabu’s Belly, they must be referring to the one from Ages, right?
Naturally, the puzzle-oriented gameplay that is intertwined with overworld and dungeon progression seeps into how Ages’ bosses are dispatched once Link manages to outwit all of the conundrums leading up to them. Unlike Seasons, whose boss roster was an amplified reunion of baddies from the very first Zelda title, Ages conjures up several original foes to conquer. Really, these bosses had to be fresh and unfamiliar, for it’s the only way to ensure that the player spends a considerable effort scratching their brains on how to defeat them. Discussing these bosses in great detail would be a disservice to the grand riddle behind all of them, but I will say that the weapon or tool acquired in their respective dungeons is utilized wonderfully. However, the one spoiler I will elaborate on in regards to Ages’ bosses is intended to be a fair forewarning for the game’s climactic duel against Veran. After climbing her tower and learning that Ralph is going to erase himself from existence in his blind fury to save Nayru, Veran puts the goddess's body up as a wager for finally defeating her in a three-stage fight. The first stage is a reheated version of when Link fought her beforehand, but the next two will likely put the player in a bind. For a final boss intended to culminate a puzzle-oriented experience, there’s very little brain function required in defeating Veran. In fact, swiping at her as she buzzes around the room as an abominable series of giant insects with her witchy, feminine face involves more guerilla combat similar to any boss from Seasons. The boss feels like a leftfield rug swipe because it doesn’t involve any of the shrewd skills of puzzle solving to conquer in a game bursting at the seams with them. It’s certainly not as ball-busting as Onox was, but it might be wise to utilize the advantages of the appraised rings to survive this final fight. It’s not as if the game offers a ring to boost the player’s cleverness.
After playing through Oracle of Seasons, the objective I kept a conscious thought of was to see if Ages would supplement its twin’s shortcomings. The reality of the relationship between these two GBC games is that they are two different extremes lying on two entirely different ends of the Zelda spectrum. It's a Heat Miser and Snow Miser kind of dynamic presented between both of them, and their stark contradictions cannot feasibly converge into one nuanced product. Fortunately, most other Zelda titles already fall in a middle ground between both extremes, so either unbalanced experience with the Oracle titles presents the possibility to indulge in the type of Zelda gameplay one prefers to their heart’s content. I enjoy a tasteful mix of both, but I think I’ll side in favor of Seasons because Ages is austere to a fault. Still, the slightly elevated narrative and masterful utilization of the time travel mechanic gives me enough substance to appreciate Ages anyway.
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