The Legend of Zelda: Oracle of Seasons Review

 (Originally published to Glitchwave on 5/14/2025)

[Image from glitchwave.com]

The Legend of Zelda: Oracle of Seasons

Developer: Flagship

Publisher: Nintendo

Genre(s): Action-Adventure

Platforms: Game Boy Color

Release Date: February 27, 2001

For seasons, I assumed that the Oracle duology of Zelda titles on the Game Boy Color presented minor alterations of the same game, like the Pokémon titles. In reality, Capcom's subsidiary company, Flagship, graced Nintendo’s first colored handheld system with two fully-fledged Zelda games that have separate stories, dungeons, and other distinctive creative attributes. It’s like being half Jewish during the holidays, with another treasure trove of presents arriving on Christmas once the candles of Hanukkah, lit weeks prior, are extinguished. Still, despite the excitement of indulging in a Zelda menage a trois, it’s likely that the primary demographic could only afford one of these titles at a time. Because of a lack of disposable income, it was paramount to choose which of the Oracle titles to buy based on one’s personal preferences. I am not faced with this crucial decision because 24 years of time passing has made both Oracle games readily accessible for cheap, but choosing which of these games to play first was still something to consider. I landed on the red-covered Oracle of Seasons not from an impartial round of Eeny Meeny Miny Moe, but because Seasons is rumoured to be the simpler of the two. If the Oracle games represented the two sides of the brain, Seasons is apparently the emotional, creative right, or at least when contrasted with Ages’ emphasis on puzzles. I’m not averse to puzzles in gaming, much less ones in Zelda games, but Seasons seems like a logical first because of how advanced Ages seems in comparison. Still, I am basing this decision on the information I’ve gathered from public consensus, so now I can see for myself whether or not it holds water.

Handheld versions of Nintendo titles tend to take liberties with their respective franchises’ narrative traditions, and Game Boy Zelda games aren’t apprehensive in shuffling up the series formula if the whimsical fever dream of Link’s Awakening is any indication. Like the aforementioned title, Oracle of Seasons deviates quite a bit from the standard Triforce quest in Hyrule. Link inexplicably falls in the soft grass of a land called Holodrum, and he’s greeted by a girl with brilliant red hair who takes him to what looks like the campground of pioneers that have docked their caravan on a grassy plain. A wicked storm interrupts their merry dancing session, and a sinister cyclone whisks everyone away except for Link. However, this is no indication of violent, spontaneous weather patterns. Behind the cyclone is a sinister figure named Onox, who has captured the red-haired girl, the goddess Din, in the first step in his diabolical scheme to essentially murder the planet by upsetting the balance of the seasons. Oracle of Seasons may present a new setting, add unfamiliar characters, and alter the stakes in the major conflict, but all that the various factors at play in the premise do is mask the tired similarities. Tell me, what’s the fundamental difference between saving a captured Din versus Zelda, or the sinister plan of the main antagonist? Strikethrough Din with Zelda and Onox with Ganon(dorf), and everything will still comfortably fall into place as a standard Zelda story. They can’t all be mavericks like Link’s Awakening.

However, one cannot substitute Hyrule for the kingdom at the center of Seasons’ setting. Where Koholint Island was all around askew, there is something more comfortably familiar about Holodrum, despite it deviating from the standard Zelda setting of Hyrule. Actually, the eerily off-putting aspect of Holodrum’s familiarity that the player might notice is its geographical similarities to Hyrule as it was depicted in its very first iteration on the NES. The first dungeon can be accessed immediately as the game begins, and it’s a gangly, hollowed-out tree situated on an island connected by a bridge from the mainland. Link visits a western graveyard in the later portion of the game, and I’m fairly certain that the foreboding domain of Onox is situated in the same geographical location on Holodrum’s map as Ganon’s was on Death Mountain. Really, what reminds me the most of Hyrule’s 8-bit debut in Holodrum is how segmented its map is. To signify that Link has arrived in another district of Holodrum, a white light accompanies the classic transitional loading freeze that occurs whenever Link steps out of the square perimeter boundaries that comprise the world’s entirety. The added luminescence is quite jarring, and it distracts the player from learning the layout of the map. Fortunately, Oracle of Seasons was developed in a post-Ocarina of Time world, so the developers have implemented accessible features to prevent the overworld from regressing into the esoteric maze that was the first game’s Hyrule. Teleportation items called Gale Seeds are so plentiful that they literally grow on trees, and a map is available as a constant reference point that details where the player has and hasn’t visited yet. If that fails to work, the omniscient wisdom of the Maku Tree will set the player on the right track, once they pop his sleepy snot bubble anyway. Holdrum’s various kernels of compact design evoke the most classic of Zelda maps in ways that all the subsequent upgrades of Hyrule don’t.

Holodrum is fairly adequate as a substitute for Hyrule, but the true point of interest regarding the map of Oracle of Seasons is the other world that exists beyond/beneath it. The swirling vortexes found on the field teleport Link to Subrosia, a mysterious netherrealm with an adjacent relationship to Holdrum on the surface. A Link to the Past presented a dichotomy between darkness and light, with the “dark world” engulfing Hyrule in a warped and disorienting chaos depicted in a Hieronymous Bosh painting. Despite the surrounding lava (that looks like boiling Coca-Cola thanks to the pixelated graphics) that radiates Subrosia in a perpetual, crimson glow, the district is not the contrast of good versus evil that A Link to the Past presented. Surprisingly, Subrosia is quite the humdrum little burg. Subrosia has homes, shops, and all of the other establishments that comprise a civil society. Its cloaked denizens look suspicious on the surface, but they are a perfectly domestic race of creatures. Interacting with them will expose their good-natured demeanors that they veil under their shrouded clothing. Link will join a dance troupe with strict team choreography, take a female Subrosian wearing a cute pink bow as a gender signifier on a date, and have one of his items stolen by two delinquents that he must reattain. Hey, getting mugged is far more commonplace than being attacked by pumpkin monsters and disembodied skulls. Because there was a hidden veneer of friendliness in Subrosia underneath the hellish surface, it made the alternate Oracle of Seasons overworld far more interesting than the seemingly inviting one on the surface.

The primary reason for visiting Subrosia for a significant portion of the game relates to the game’s central mechanical gimmick. In each of Subrosia’s temples lie the four goddesses that will grant Link the power to manipulate each of the four seasons. With a swish of the magical item known as the “Rod of Seasons,” Link can alter the weather of Holdrum to fit the typical outdoor conditions associated with each season, provided he can find a tree stump on the field to stand on. Each season naturally comes with a unique set of environmental circumstances to contend with. Spring is when the foliage is the most fertile, so Link can use plant pods to bounce himself upwards while gazing at beautiful, freshly-bloomed flowers. The prolonged period of vegetative growth leaves the herbage wild and unkempt by the summer, allowing Link to climb a series of vines like a ladder. The golden autumn is apparently when the pesky mushroom obstacles are ripe enough to rip from their roots, and the snow of winter is obviously a unique, seasonal hindrance to work around. Sections of Holodrum are designated to a certain season, but they can always be altered with the rod to unlock passageways that only specific seasonal conditions allow. Ultimately, besides the aesthetic change, those conditions really do boil down to the ones I previously mentioned. Spring and winter are the two seasons that present a varied seasonal contrast, while summer and autumn seem like an arbitrary obligation. I understand that not incorporating all four seasons into the fray would be incredibly uneven, but they could have at least implemented more than a single element into the mix to make the seasons more mechanically discernible. Overall, I suppose that the four constantly shifting with every corner of the map provides enough intrigue about how the weather conditions affect the layout of the land, even though it is the source of the jarring, white transitions I mentioned earlier.

The “Rod of Seasons” is the item in Oracle of Seasons with the greatest narrative precedence, but the other tools in Link’s arsenal are just as imperative in his quest to restore environmental balance to Holdrum and rescue the fair Din. It turns out that I spoke prematurely when I said that Link’s Awakening featured unique Zelda items that were endemic to it. Many of those items have transitioned over to the subsequent handheld Zelda game and were either greatly innovated on or were rebranded completely. Roc’s Feather returns and allows Link the capability to jump once again, but it is eventually upgraded to the “Roc’s Cape” that extends its aerial ability to a glide function. I’ve mentioned the gale seeds that teleport Link to a select few destinations, but I neglected to delve into the other types of seeds that grow around Holdrum with their own distinct properties. Essentially, the seeds function as surrogates for Zelda items that have been misplaced. Ember seeds light torches and trees like a lantern, and pegasus seeds will supercharge Link’s moving speed and jump length without the footwear apparatus that allowed him to do this in Link’s Awakening. Kind of seems like a downgrade because of the ammunition, eh? These seeds can either be dug out of their sack or slung as a projectile with the slingshot, which can now fire three shots simultaneously with an upgrade. A series of horns will call three animal buddies to assist Link’s traversal on the field, and the player can control this eclectic gang of creatures while Link rides on their backs or in their pouch like a joey. The pouch in question belongs to the kangaroo named Ricky, whose phenomenal jumping capabilities can elevate Link up those towering cliffs while walloping enemies with his hefty boxing gloves. If the steep obstacle is instead a waterfall, a dodongo named Dimitri will carry Link up the cascading drop point while probably being ignorant of how many of his kind Link has slaughtered at this point. Lastly, a winged-Charmin bear named Moosh will use the sheer force of his bodyweight to crush rocks with an airborne slam. I’d be willing to bet that the trio of animals summoned by the horn as help was taken from the animal buddies from the Kirby’s Dream Land games, but the core difference is that Link’s mobility consistently feels like an enhanced modification, like driving a car instead of pedaling a two-seated bike from the back. I should also highlight the magnetic gloves, for they’re a wonderfully kinetic innovation on the hookshot that propels Link over perilous gaps with far more player involvement. I would sell the item selection in Oracle of Seasons short because much of it is a variation on the ingenuity that Link’s Awakening displayed in this department. Still, continuing the trend of ingenuity that the previous handheld Zelda game presented with Link’s array of gadgets and extending on it is nothing to sneeze at. It’s far more engaging than what was presented in Link’s Awakening while not diminishing the previous game's contributions. In addition, the grueling trade sequence quest that made progression in Link’s Awakening a chore is optional here. The Master Sword acts as the incentive for the player’s diligent efforts in completing this series of side quests, with a specific pattern learned in Holodrum’s Lost Woods unlocking its location.

Still, it is recommended that the player go the distance and become Holodrum’s de facto delivery driver to earn the Master Sword because Oracle of Seasons is the most combat-oriented Zelda game to date. In fact, this was the core design initiative that drove the game’s development, highlighting the physical factor of Zelda’s gameplay while diluting the puzzle aspect. Because Oracle of Seasons is a far more meat-headed Zelda title, the dungeons tend to be quite sparse. Stepping into one of these labyrinths, especially after playing Link’s Awakening, feels like attending an open house where all of the decor and knick-knacks that give a home a lived-in quality have been removed. Removing the clutter that comprises the typical Zelda dungeon was a conscious decision on the part of the developers. In place of the intricate set pieces that involve methodical planning to navigate around are clusters of enemies waiting to bombard Link in close quarters, and a key is usually earned upon defeating all of them. Like many elements in Oracle of Seasons, the vacant dungeon design that emphasizes enemies is evocative of the first Zelda game’s minimalism. Still, as an intentional nod or not, the stark vacancy on display here, without the excuse of 8-bit hardware as a hindrance, leaves a lot to be desired for the dungeons in Oracle of Seasons. Admittedly, Seasons does feature a select few puzzles that are fairly substantial, but they are very few and far between all of the hordes of enemies. No amount of carts on train tracks that most of these dungeons cram into the mix can salvage the fact that the overall layout is concerningly emaciated. All of the dungeons in Seasons tend to blend together into a forgetful mush as a result. Still, I must detail the surprising fact that the later dungeons in the game feature platforming challenges fit for something like Super Mario Bros. once the Roc’s Feather upgrades into a cape. One sidescrolling section in the “Sword and Shield Maze” where Link is dodging fireballs over lava while jumping on platforms reminded me more of Bowser’s Castle rather than any of Ganon’s domains.

Considering that combat is given a greater emphasis, one might assume that Seasons’ bosses are quite formidable, and they’d be correct. It’s not as if the series has struggled to offer a meaty challenge with their climactic dungeon foes in the past, but some previous entries, such as Link’s Awakening, stumbled at every step to supply their dungeons with worthy final battles. Come to think of it, so did the first Zelda game for the most part, and I think the developers were working with the same sentiment in mind. By far, the most overt form of Zelda 1 worship that Seasons commits is recycling the same boss roster in almost the same order. However, thanks to either Capcom’s initiative or hindsight inherently upgrading them, the familiar foes that underwhelmed us in the past have evidently been bulking up over fifteen years. The Dodongo doesn’t just walk around nonchalantly so Link can gingerly place a bomb down its gullet, and the Digdogger greatly utilizes the magnetic gloves even if it makes the fight rather finicky. I laughed out loud when all it took to vanquish Gohma in the first Zelda game was a single arrow to the eye. All that laughter did was fuel vengeance inside the cyclops arachnid, and his newfound swiftness and grabbing ability are not to be taken lightly.

Even though Onox fulfills the character role of Ganon as a Zelda title’s primary villain, his fight is incomparable to any of the evil swine’s. Labeling Onox’s duel as an endurance test would be an understatement. The final battle against the maniacal “general of darkness” is equivalent to running a marathon in the Amazonian Jungle, keeping watch for the unregulated obstacles that are bound to trip up anyone if they don’t maintain constant vigilance while sprinting. Pegasus seeds will aid in eluding the swings of his giant flail, but it's going to take some considerable trial and error in avoiding an encased Din who joins the fight as a shield of sorts. Onox’s second phase in the dark depths of his tower’s basement, where he transforms into a dragon creature, is completely ludicrous. Why? Because the platformer-intensive design of this battle is an honest-to-God Dr. Wily fight from Mega Man masquerading as a Zelda boss. From the X-axis perspective to jumping on his massive hands to reach his weak point at eye level to the spray of lightning-fast energy bullets, don’t tell me that the mad, grey-haired doctor isn’t going to pop out of the beast in a capsule upon its defeat. That is, its eventual defeat after several grueling attempts of perfecting each stage while Link’s health is still beeping like a vital signs monitor by the end. Congratulations, Onox; you can now confidently step out of Ganon’s shadow and claim the distinguished title of the hardest boss in Zelda history (that I know of).

Keep in mind that I can’t comment on whether or not Oracle of Seasons is intended to be one half of an overarching Zelda experience with Oracle of Ages yet. I can only assess the game on its individual merits, and it’s certainly a jumble of uneven elements. Delving into the bad, or lackluster, aspects first, Seasons has a habit of neglecting many Zelda elements that are usually integral to an excellent Zelda experience. The narrative is practically sidelined for the duration of the game, and the conflict that catalyzed it is terribly clichéd. I don’t mind the emphasis on combat, but diminishing the puzzle factor of a Zelda dungeon to this degree presents a lack of nuance that typically makes them exceptional. Still, Oracle of Seasons excels by taking the onus of Link’s Awakening to subvert the mechanics of a standard Zelda title every step further with its item roster. I’ve griped about the redundancies of the season-changing mechanic, but it's such a prevalent aspect of Seasons’ progression that it's anything but a waste of potential. Oracle of Seasons is a game with stark strengths and weaknesses on the quality spectrum. I have a suspicious feeling that Oracle of Ages will compensate for what Seasons is lacking while faltering with what it shines in, but that has yet to be determined.