Happy 39th Birthday to the Legend of Zelda
a happy birthday to my favorite video game series of all time, so I typed out a quick birthday gift. Happy Birthday to the Legend of Zelda! Thank you for 39 wonderful years of adventure, and here's to many more!
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Link had been wandering all over the mountains for the last few days, stubbing his toes and bruising his shins on stones, pointy rocks digging into his bedroll, and beating off packs of lynels over and over again. He knew there had to be a dungeon around here, but it was proving elusive so far, and as much as he loved exploring, he was getting a little tired of a landscape that consisted of nothing besides rocks, more rocks, and lynels.
He sighed, rolling from his side onto his back, crossing his arms behind his head. The clouds hung thick and heavy over the mountains, scudding along like grumpy moblins across the sky.
But every so often, a star would peek out behind the clouds, no less bright for the shadows that tried to obscure them.
Link found himself reaching up for that star, as if he could touch it.
What would it be like, if I could fly up high and touch the stars?
It would certainly make all this hunting-for-dungeons-in-the-mountains easier. Just fly over the mountains and search from above!
What would it be like?
He loved it when he rode the cyclone his magic flute summoned, hurtling through the air at unbelievable speeds, the winds whipping around him so fast he couldn’t even see, and it was all he could do to keep his hat on his head.
But… that wasn’t the kind of flying he really wanted to do. The kind he dreamed about sometimes.
Flying where he could go wherever he wanted, take whatever path he chose, not gamble on the magic of an old wooden flute. Where he blazed a trail across the skies, touched clouds, and viewed the world from above.
Maybe someday he’d figure out a way…and then, maybe, he’d be able to see if there was any lands in the skies for him to explore.
He closed his fist and imagined he held a shard of starlight in his hand.
Somehow, he was sure there were.
(when he dreamed that night, he dreamed of free blue skies, a moon big and bright and gold, of clear air and creamy clouds so thick and fluffy that you would think you could walk on them, and a faithful friend that blazed a path across the skies like a crimson torch. The dream was warm, and fun, and so, so familiar.
One day he would find a spell that would give him wings, and it'd almost right.
He also dreamed of waking a girl from a long, long sleep, and being awarded with a hug and a smile. One day, that, too, would seem familiar.)
(he would not be the last boy to dream of flying, and that boy would explore the skies)
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