Since

joining Zelda Informer, my lust for a

daily dose of video gaming has somewhat intensified, and that’s saying

something. It’s very difficult to satisfy these cravings when one doesn’t have

the funds to get the current titles that everyone’s raving about — alas, I do

mean A Link Between Worlds.

But

I am now somewhat grateful for that. It’s given me a chance to revisit some old

classics and rediscover what it was that made them so good in the first place,

and whether they’ve stood the test of time. For the most part, they have. I

picked up The Minish Cap because,

regrettably, it’s the Zelda title I tend

to forget about the most. Which isn’t at all fair, but it’s because it stands

alone — no other Zelda game reminds

me of it.

It

doesn’t take long to be at ease in the world of Hyrule again. The use of Ocarina of Time’s end credit music in

the opening of The Minish Cap is a

lovely addition that is both settling and anticipatory. It doesn’t take long before

we’re swept through Hyrule Field, flown through the Minish Woods, and dropped

onto Mount Crenel. There’s a lot of charm in the art style that fine-tunes The Wind Waker’s “toon” concept and

renders it beautifully in 2D.

It’s

the Kinstone subplot that weaves its way throughout the game, however, that

makes the experience so iconic. I can’t think of another Zelda game that uses a set of collectibles to map out story and

character interaction as successfully as the unification of Kinstone halves.

Sure, searching for Golden Skulltula tokens in Ocarina of Time rewarded you with prizes once the Cursed Man and

his family were revived. And there were loads of Treasure Charts in The Wind Waker to keep you sailing and

exploring, but these were collectibles purely for personal gain.

The

Kinstones play an important role in Link’s quest, but they also have

implications on the lives of others, be they Goron, Hylian or Picori. Although

there are specific golden Kinstones that are required in order for the game to

progress, the concept works best when red, green and blue ones are combined.

It’s

the sheer variety that comes with these mystical segments that makes The Minish Cap so interesting and unique

in its approach. Some fusions lead to chests full of rupees, others lead to

Pieces of Heart, and a number of them open up world events and sidequests.

Considered

a sign of immense happiness when two Kinstone halves are united, there are

plenty of people to find and fulfil. Every Kinstone found feels rewarding — in

amongst rupees, hearts and those elusive Mysterious Shells, Kinstones pop out

of the grass, and are greeted with raised arms and that triumphant, signature

item jingle.

One

of the clever things about how the Kinstone subplot weaves its way through the

story is the different times at which they become available. Some are

unreachable without the Mole Mitts, the Cane of Pacci or Roc’s Cape, and some

just don’t exist until a sequence or plot point has activated it.

The

Joy Butterflies, gained from fusions with Din, Nayru and Farore — in this case, house-hunting oracles as opposed to world-building goddesses — are worthwhile

endeavours as they augment Link’s bow, mitt and flipper abilities. Swiftblade

and his brothers are dotted around Hyrule, opening previously blocked pathways to one

another, and thereby giving Link access to technique enhancement scrolls. And fusing

with the mysterious stranger in Hyrule Castle Town reveals a curiously glowing

pebble that transports Link to the house of the Wind Tribe — a location that

reappears later in the game.

It’s

interesting to note that according to the Zelda

timeline, The Minish Cap takes place directly

after Skyward Sword, making it highly

possible that this red-headed group of sky travellers could be descended from

Groose himself.

There’s

a feeling of unification that pervades itself throughout the gathering,

collecting and coupling of Kinstones. For every person patiently waiting with

one, its other half is out there waiting to be found. In some ways, Link plays

a matchmaker for all these lonely hearts. The two Kinstone halves are a symbol

of Hyrule’s stricken and stranded people, blighted by Vaati’s greed and lust

for power. When fused together, the Kinstone is a representation of Link’s

attempt to restore peace and harmony to the land, for the sake of his fellow

Hylians and the indomitable Minish.

The

fusing of Kinstones feels like an act of kindness and kinship, in direct protest

of Vaati’s dark deeds to take control of Hyrule. But, purely on a gameplay

basis, it’s so enjoyable to take a break from the main quest to search for

somebody — with a curious bubble floating near their head — who might have a half that

corresponds with yours. There are lonely people with Kinstone segments

everywhere — dogs, ghosts, and even the Tingle Brothers lie in wait with

mysterious prizes to dish out.

The

extraordinary thing about the Kinstone quest is that it doesn’t get easier as

it goes on. It’s not set up to be something concrete, with signposting or

handholding to get you across the finish line. No, in fact, I’ve just completed

my fourth playthrough of the game, and it’s the first time I’ve fused every

Kinstone and received that elusive Tingle Trophy. It’s just so hard to remember

every Hylian, Picori, you name it, that’s had a Kinstone already — and it doesn’t

help that some of them have more than one fusion available! It’s easy to get

downcast about the whole thing actually, because keeping track of them is a

hard task in and of itself. Eventually, you walk up to everything, just hoping beyond

hope that a mystical bubble of awaited fusion will pop up. And the closer to 0

you get, the worse it is.

Of course, it’s all a worthwhile and enjoyable sweat. There are very

few times Zelda has actually been

able to legitimately frustrate. Rollgoal, you know who you are. In fact, I

swear I will never play that mini-game again out of principal.

Anyway,

I digress. There are so many plus points to Kinstones and how they open up the

world in which Link finds himself searching for the elements to fuse with the Four

Sword. It would be really interesting to see how this kind of system

might work in the future — in a 3D title perhaps. Zelda U is still very much an open book in terms of how much the

fanbase has been told, and the game could very much benefit from a collectible

that Link uses to interact with the people of the world, affecting their

behaviour or actions, the structure of the landscape, or even the direction the

plot takes. It would be amazing to see a Zelda

game with multiple endings, although it’ll take a brave person to try that out.

I feel like I might be about to run with a totally different idea in a minute

that’s best saved for a future article, so I’ll stop here.

The Minish Cap did a

beautiful job in creating a concept about a collectible that revolved around character

development and interaction. It helped to make the world more realistic and

unified, and symbolised the goodness in Link. It wasn’t just about defeating

Vaati — it was about bringing joy to the people too.

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