You’ve already had your say on the absolute best Zelda games as we observe the series’ 30th anniversary – and you also did a mighty good job also, even if I’m fairly certain A Link to the Past goes in the head of some record – so now it is our turn. We requested the Eurogamer editorial staff to vote for their favorite Zelda games (though Wes abstained since he doesn’t understand what a Nintendo is) and below you will find the complete top ten, along with a number of our own musings. Could people get the matches in their rightful purchase? Likely not…

10. A Link Between Worlds

How brightly contradictory that among the finest original games on Nintendo’s 3DS would be a 2D adventure game, which among the most daring Zelda entries would be the one that so closely aped among its predecessors.

It helps, of course, that the template has been lifted from one of the greatest games in the series and, by extension, one of the best games of all time. There’s an endearing breeziness to A Link to the Past, a fleet-footedness that sees that the 16-bit experience pass as pleasurably and memorably as a perfect late summer day.follow the link phantom hourglass rom At our site A Link Between Worlds takes that and even positively sprints together with it, running free into the familiar expanse of Hyrule with a newfound liberty.

In giving you the capacity to rent any one of Link’s well-established tools in the off, A Link Between Worlds broke free of the linear progression which had shackled previous Zelda games; it has been a Hyrule that was no more characterized by an invisible route, but one that provided a feeling of discovery and completely free will that was starting to feel absent in previous entries. The sense of experience so dear to the show, muted in the past few years by the ritual of reproduction, was well and truly revived. MR

9. Spirit Tracks

An unfortunate side-effect of the fact that more than one generation of players has risen up with Zelda and refused to let go has been an insistence – during the show’ adolescence, at any rate – which it grow up with them. That resulted in some fascinating areas as well as some absurd tussles over the series’ leadership, as we will see later in this list, but at times it threatened to leave Zelda’s authentic constituency – you know, kids – behind.

Happily, the mobile games have always been there to look after younger gamers, along with Spirit Tracks for the DS (now available on Wii U Virtual Console) is Zelda in its maximum chirpy and adorable. Though superbly designed, it’s not an especially distinguished game, being a relatively laborious and laborious follow-up to Phantom Hourglass that reproduces its structure and flowing stylus controller. However, it has such zest! Link utilizes a small train to go around and also its puffing and tooting, together with an inspired folk music soundtrack, set a brisk pace for your adventure. Then there’s the childish, tactile delight of driving the train: setting the throttle, pulling on the whistle and scribbling destinations in your own map.

Most importantly is that, for once, Zelda is along for the ride. Link has to rescue her body, but her soul is with him as a companion, occasionally able to possess enemy soldiers and play the brutal heavy. Both even enjoy an innocent youth love, and you would be hard pressed to consider another game which has caught the teasing, blushing strength of a preteen crush also. Inclusive and candy, Spirit Tracks remembers that kids have feelings too, and also may reveal grownups something or two about love. OW

8. Phantom Hourglass

In my head, at least, there’s been a furious debate going on as to if Link, Hero of Hyrule, is really any good using a boomerang. He’s been wielding the loyal, banana-shaped bit of timber since his very first adventure, however in my experience it’s simply been a pain in the arse to work with.

The exception that proves the rule, nevertheless, is Phantom Hourglass, where you draw on the route for your boomerang through the hand. Poking the stylus at the touch screen (that, at an equally lovely move, is the way you command your sword), you draw an exact flight map for your boomerang and it just… goes. No faffing about, no clanging into pillars, only simple, simple, improbably responsive boomerang flight. It was when I first used the boomerang at Phantom Hourglass that I realised this game might just be something particular; I immediately fell in love with the rest.

Never mind that so many of the puzzles are based on setting off a change and subsequently getting from Point A to Point B as soon as possible. Never mind that viewing some gameplay back to refresh my memory gave me powerful flashbacks into the hours spent huddling on the display and gripping my DS like that I wanted to throttle it. The purpose is that Phantom Hourglass had bits of course that remain – and I will go out on a limb – totally unrivalled in the rest of the Legend of Zelda series. JC

7. Skyward Sword

Skyward Sword is maddeningly close to being good. It bins the familiar Zelda overworld and set of distinct dungeons by hurling three enormous areas in the player that are constantly reworked. It’s a beautiful game – one I am still hoping will be remade in HD – whose watercolour graphics make a shimmering, dream-like haze over its blue heavens and brush-daubed foliage. After the filthy, Lord of the Rings-inspired Twilight Princess, this is the Zelda series confidently re-finding its feet. I can defend many of familiar criticisms levelled at Skyward Sword, such as its overly-knowing nods to the rest of the series or its marginally forced origin narrative that retcons recognizable elements of this franchise. I will also get behind the bigger overall amount of area to explore when the match always revitalises each of its three areas so ardently.

I could not, sadly, ever get in addition to the game’s Motion Plus controllers, which required one to waggle your Wii Remote to be able to do combat. It turned the boss fights against the brilliantly bizarre Ghirahim into infuriating fights using technologies. Into baskets which made me anger stop for the remainder of the evening. At times the movement controls worked – that the flying Beetle thing pretty much constantly found its mark but when Nintendo was forcing players to depart the reliability of a well-worn control scheme, its replacement needed to work 100 percent of the time. TP

6. Twilight Princess

When Ocarina of Time came out in November 1998, I was ten years of age. I was pretty awful at Zelda games. I could throw my way through the Great Deku Tree and the Fire Temple fine but, by the time Connect dove headlong into the fantastic Jabu Jabu’s belly, my want to have fun together with Ocarina of Time easily began outstripping the pleasure I was really having.

When Twilight Princess wrapped around, I was at college and something in me most likely a profound love of procrastination – was ready to try again. I recall day-long moves on the sofa, huddling underneath a blanket in my cold flat and just poking my hands out to flap about with the Wii remote during combat. Resentful seems were thrown in the stack of books I knew I had to skim over the next week. Subsequently there was the magnificent dawn if my then-girlfriend (now fiancée) woke me up with a gentle shake, then asking’can I see you play Zelda?’

Twilight Lady is, frankly, attractive. There’s a fantastic, brooding feeling; the gameplay is hugely diverse; it has got a lovely art style, one I wish they had kept for just one more game. That’s why I’ll always love Twilight Princess – it is the sport that made me click using Zelda. JC

5. Majora’s Mask

However, some of its greatest moments have come as it turned outside its framework, left Hyrule and then Zelda herself and asked what Link could do next. Even the self-referential Link’s Awakening has been just one, and this N64 sequel to Ocarina of Time just another. It took a much more revolutionary tack: bizarre, dark, and structurally experimental.

Though there’s lots of comedy and adventure, Majora’s Mask is suffused with despair, sorrow, and also an off-kilter eeriness. Some of this stems out of its true awkward timed arrangement: that the moon is falling around the world, that the clock is ticking and you also can not stop it, only rewind and begin, a little stronger and wiser each moment. Some of it comes from the antagonist, the Skull Kid, who’s no villain but an innocent having a sad story who has contributed into the corrupting effect of their titular mask. Some of this comes from Link himself: a kid again but with the increased man of Ocarina still somewhere inside him, he rides rootlessly to the land of Termina like he has got no better place to be, far from the hero of legend.

Largely, it comes in the townsfolk of Termina, whose lives Link observes moving towards the end of the world together their appointed paths, over and over again. Despite an unforgettable, most surreal finish, Majora’s Mask’s primary narrative is not among those series’ strongest. But these poignant Groundhog Day subplots about the strain of ordinary life – loss, love, family, work, and death, always passing – find the show’ writing in its absolute best. It is a melancholy, compassionate fairytale of this regular that, using its ticking clock, needs to remind you that you can not take it with you personally. OW


If you’ve had children, you will be aware that there’s amazingly strange and touching moment if you’re doing laundry – stay with me here – and these tiny T-shirts and pants first start to turn up on your washing. Someone new has come to live with you! Someone implausibly small.

This is one of The Wind-Waker’s greatest tricks, I believe. Link had been young before, but today, with all the toon-shaded change in art management, he actually appears young: a Schulz toddler, enormous head and tiny legs, venturing out amongst Moblins and pirates and those crazy birds that roost across the clifftops. Connect is tiny and vulnerable, and thus the experience surrounding him seems all the more stirring.

Another excellent tip has a good deal to do with these pirates. This has become the standard Zelda question since Link to the Past, but with the Wind-Waker, there did not appear to be one: no alternate measurement, no shifting between time-frames. Rather , you had a crazy and briney sea, reaching out from all directions, an infinite blue, flecked with abstracted breakers. The sea was contentious: a lot of hurrying back and forth over a enormous map, a lot of time spent crossing. But consider what it brings with it! It attracts pirates and sunken temples and ghost ships. It attracts underwater grottoes along with a castle waiting for you in a bubble of air back on the seabed.

On top of that, it attracts unending sense of discovery and renewal, one challenge down and another awaiting, as you jump from your ship and race up the sand towards another thing, your miniature legs crashing through the surf, and your enormous eyes already fixed over the horizon. CD


Link’s Awakening is near-enough a fantastic Zelda game – it’s a huge and secret-laden overworld, sparkling dungeon layout and memorable characters. Additionally, it is a fever dream-set side-story with villages of speaking creatures, side-scrolling places starring Mario enemies and also a giant fish who participates the mambo. This was my first Zelda adventure, my entry point into the show and the game against which I judge each other Zelda title. I totally love it. Not only was it my very first Zelda, its greyscale universe was among the first adventure games that I truly playedwith.

There is no Zelda, no Ganon. No Guru Sword. And while it feels like a Zelda, even after enjoying so many of the others, its quirks and characters set it apart. Link’s Awakening packs an astonishing amount onto its small Game Boy capsule (or Game Boy Color, if you played with its DX re-release). TP


Bottles are OP at Zelda. Those humble glass containers may reverse the tide of a struggle when they contain a potion or even better – a fairy. If I was Ganon, I’d postpone the wicked plotting and the measurement rifting, and I’d just place a solid fortnight into travelling Hyrule from top to base and smashing any glass bottles that I came across. After that, my terrible vengeance are all the more terrible – and there would be a sporting chance I may have the ability to pull it off also.

All of that suggests, as Link, a bottle may be real reward. Real treasure. Some thing to put your watch by. I think there are four glass bottles in Link to the Past, each one which makes you that little more powerful and that little bolder, buying you confidence from dungeoneering and struck points in the center of a bruising manager experience. I can not recall where you receive three of those bottles. But I can remember where you receive the fourth.

It’s Lake Hylia, and if you’re like me, it is late in the game, with the large ticket items collected, that lovely, genre-defining moment at the top of the hill – where a single map becomes two – cared for, and handfuls of compact, ingenious, infuriating and enlightening dungeons raided. Late match Link to the Past is about sounding out every last inch of this map, which means working out how the two similar-but-different variations of Hyrule fit together.

And there is a difference. An gap from Lake Hylia. An gap hidden by a bridge. And under it, a man blowing smoke rings with a campfire. He feels as though the best key in all Hyrule, along with the prize for uncovering him is a glass container, ideal for keeping a potion – or a fairy.

Link to the Past seems to be an impossibly clever game, fracturing its map into two dimensions and requesting you to distinguish between them, holding equally landscapes super-positioned in mind as you solve a single, vast geographical puzzle. In truth, though, someone could probably copy this design if they had enough pencils, sufficient quadrille paper, sufficient energy and time, and when they had been smart and determined enough.

The best reduction of the electronic age.

However, Link to the Past isn’t just the map – it is the detailing, and the figures. It is Ganon and his wicked plot, but it’s also the man camping out under the bridge. Perhaps the whole thing is somewhat like a bottle, then: the container is vital, but what you’re really after is that the stuff that’s inside it. CD

1. Ocarina of Time

Maybe with the Z-Targeting, a solution to 3D combat so effortless you hardly notice it’s there. Or maybe you talk about a open world that’s touched by the light and color cast by an inner clock, where villages dancing with action by day before being seized by an eerie lull at night. How about the expressiveness of that ocarina itself, a delightfully analogue device whose music has been conducted by the control afforded by the N64’s pad, which notes flexed wistfully at the push of a pole.

Maybe, though, you simply focus in on the second itself, a perfect snapshot of video games emerging sharply from their own adolescence as Link is thrust so suddenly into an adult world. What is most impressive about Ocarina of Time is how it came therefore fully-formed, the 2D adventuring of past entrances transitioning into three measurements and a pop-up publication folding swiftly into life.

Other Zeldas may make for a better play today – there’s a thing about the 16-bit adventuring of A Link to the Past that remains forever impervious to time – although none could ever claim to be important as Ocarina. Thanks to Grezzo’s unique 3DS remake it has retained much of its verve and impact, and even setting aside its technical achievements it is an experience that still ranks among the series’ finest; psychological and uplifting, it’s touched with the bittersweet melancholy of growing up and leaving your youth behind. From the story’s conclusion Link’s youth and innocence – and of Hyrule – is heroically revived, but once that most revolutionary of reinventions, video games will not ever be the exact same again.