Ancient Cultures of Lanayru Desert
“This is Lanayru Desert. Over many centuries, the sand has covered nearly all remnants of the past.”
— Fi, Skyward Sword
— Fi, Skyward Sword
This desert and its history serve as a potent lesson for humanity. With the exigencies of climate change at our doorstep, this region of Hyrule reflects many problems currently prominent in reality. We know that a rapidly changing climate transformed this area from a verdant landscape into an unforgiving and arid desert over the course of a few centuries, and we know that this change was due to the irresponsible actions of its past inhabitants — for they mined too greedily, stripping the region of its natural resources while destroying it in the process. [1] As the byproducts from their factories ruined the environment around them, whatever population that inhabited this land either fled or perished by their own hand, ushering in an era of swift and severe climatic warming. As this area rapidly transformed into desert, the newly-formed sands swallowed many remnants of this ancient civilization, and all that can be gleaned about its history is discovered through archaeology and through reliving the past.
One of the last vestiges of this civilization exists in its created intelligences — a series of robotic lifeforms given various programming, various forms, and various tasks within the economy and society of this lost culture. What exactly the relationship was between this people and their machines is mostly unknown, but the results of architectural design seem to suggest that these Ancient Robots were held in high regard. More than any other culture within The Legend of Zelda mythos, the Ancient Robots are present in the art and architecture of their region. A possibility is that, after the living beings of this province succumbed to their fate, the robots were left behind, and recreated the structures of this land in their image, remaining until the last of their power sources were depleted.
One of the last vestiges of this civilization exists in its created intelligences — a series of robotic lifeforms given various programming, various forms, and various tasks within the economy and society of this lost culture. What exactly the relationship was between this people and their machines is mostly unknown, but the results of architectural design seem to suggest that these Ancient Robots were held in high regard. More than any other culture within The Legend of Zelda mythos, the Ancient Robots are present in the art and architecture of their region. A possibility is that, after the living beings of this province succumbed to their fate, the robots were left behind, and recreated the structures of this land in their image, remaining until the last of their power sources were depleted.
It is into this world — of collapsing histories and buried peoples — that Link steps. As will be prophetic in terms of the architectural themes of this region, Link first lands upon a robot colossus created out of a now dull metal; in the distance are the enormous remains of other such colossi, now toppled over and fighting to keep above the surface of the ever-rising sands. This large and metal statue, after a bit of examination, appears to be a loading dock of this older civilization; from here, it is likely that shipments made their way across the surface before the ascent of Demise. Evidence of this is not only upon the robot, whose hat seems a landing pad, but in the shipping ramps leading to and from the statue, and the many crates and boxes that are stored underneath the ramps. The crates are marked with pictures of the robots faces, as well as large images of rupees, symbolizing one of the primary aspects of this older civilization as shippers and merchants. This area of the surface paints one of the most complete pictures of a previous society and culture that we find within Skyward Sword, yet piecing together the history of this people, especially in relation to their servants the Ancient Robots, is difficult, even in light of all the archaeological evidence. But one thing is certain: whatever culture based itself in this region, the emerging picture hints at the importance of business, manufacturing, and trade, and, more broadly, demonstrates the interconnected nature of the peoples of the surface, tied together by some force that transcends boundaries.
Looking at the designs and colors above, an immediate impression of Mesoamerican origin should spring to mind; the sun disc “hats” worn by the anthropomorphized conveyor belts are akin to designs found in Incan archaeological sites. In my mind, the techno-Incan architecture of this region also creates a strong connection to the architecture of the Tower of the Gods, from The Wind Waker.
Related to the production and sourcing of goods, mine tracks and mine carts are spread throughout the region, where the robots are in charge of mining Timeshift Stones. These tracks travel in and out of caves, under conveyor belts (where large amounts of mined rock were presumably loaded), and across great distances, uniting the area with a highly-developed infrastructure. The mining of these stones seems to be the primary reason for having settled this area in the first place, as nearly every structure within this landscape is intimately tied to harvesting and manufacturing these crystals. The power of these Timeshift Stones cannot be understated: they not only provide power to the robots and their facilities, but they are the primary material used in the creation of the Gates of Time located upon the surface world, and are hinted at as being the same material used to create the Ocarina of Time. [2] So, not only do they have the practical application of providing energy, they can also control the passage of time. Because of these facts, the operations being carried out in Lanayru Province have importance far beyond simple trade — they would have played an integral part in the plans of the goddess Hylia. We know that the Ancient Robots were among the peoples that joined with the goddess in her battle against evil, though we are unaware as to how long they had been loyal to her; however, we also know them to be inextricably bound to one of her servants, a being the robots call Master Thunder Dragon. [3] While nothing concrete can be drawn from these connections with one-hundred percent certainty, a theory emerges, and it is one of great importance. It seems that the goddess Hylia had united the people under her banner long before the rise of the demonic hordes, and it is likely that she foresaw what would become of the land. With this information in her subtle mind, she bonded the people of the surface into some form of coalition or league, tied together in economy and trade for the purposes of eventually reclaiming the surface and restoring it to its previous state. I have already posited that the previous temples (Skyview Temple and the Earth Temple of Eldin Volcano) were built in order to protect the sacred springs wherein Zelda purifies her spirit, and Lanayru Desert follows this pattern. As the people who lived upon the mountain and within the forest played their part in the grand design — building temples of great complexity in order to guard sanctified land — so too did the people of this area harvest stones that would eventually allow for passage through time and the ultimate salvation of the world. This is but a loose theory, granted, though its implications are vast for our understanding of interregional relationships during some of the earliest known ages of this universe.
Related to the production and sourcing of goods, mine tracks and mine carts are spread throughout the region, where the robots are in charge of mining Timeshift Stones. These tracks travel in and out of caves, under conveyor belts (where large amounts of mined rock were presumably loaded), and across great distances, uniting the area with a highly-developed infrastructure. The mining of these stones seems to be the primary reason for having settled this area in the first place, as nearly every structure within this landscape is intimately tied to harvesting and manufacturing these crystals. The power of these Timeshift Stones cannot be understated: they not only provide power to the robots and their facilities, but they are the primary material used in the creation of the Gates of Time located upon the surface world, and are hinted at as being the same material used to create the Ocarina of Time. [2] So, not only do they have the practical application of providing energy, they can also control the passage of time. Because of these facts, the operations being carried out in Lanayru Province have importance far beyond simple trade — they would have played an integral part in the plans of the goddess Hylia. We know that the Ancient Robots were among the peoples that joined with the goddess in her battle against evil, though we are unaware as to how long they had been loyal to her; however, we also know them to be inextricably bound to one of her servants, a being the robots call Master Thunder Dragon. [3] While nothing concrete can be drawn from these connections with one-hundred percent certainty, a theory emerges, and it is one of great importance. It seems that the goddess Hylia had united the people under her banner long before the rise of the demonic hordes, and it is likely that she foresaw what would become of the land. With this information in her subtle mind, she bonded the people of the surface into some form of coalition or league, tied together in economy and trade for the purposes of eventually reclaiming the surface and restoring it to its previous state. I have already posited that the previous temples (Skyview Temple and the Earth Temple of Eldin Volcano) were built in order to protect the sacred springs wherein Zelda purifies her spirit, and Lanayru Desert follows this pattern. As the people who lived upon the mountain and within the forest played their part in the grand design — building temples of great complexity in order to guard sanctified land — so too did the people of this area harvest stones that would eventually allow for passage through time and the ultimate salvation of the world. This is but a loose theory, granted, though its implications are vast for our understanding of interregional relationships during some of the earliest known ages of this universe.
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A few incarnations of Timeshift Stones. The more processed one has been likened to the Eye of Truth and the symbol of the Sheikah, and these generally rest upon a pedestal in the form of gears or cogs, quite similar to those found within Twilight Princess’s Temple of Time. The unrefined version carries designs reminiscent of computer circuitry, tying these crystals into the technological theme heavily at play within this desert. Strangely, and the reason for this is not known, only one Timeshift Stone can be activated in a given location at any one time.
When the Timeshift Stones are activated in various ways, the dull, faded metal of the desert transforms into varicolored creations of vibrant oranges, red, and teals. The difference in mood between these two states cannot be overstated, as a lifeless desert to a verdant field is as a candle to the sun. [4] As time is altered, and unknown years pass underneath a colorful veil, beauty regains its form, and the environs regain their being. Accompanying this is a very subtle change in music, which enhances the sensory shift to life. Most fascinating of all these changes, however, is the resurrection of the lifeless robots half buried in the sand.
This is another one of those rare times that the origin of an artifact’s design within the Zelda series is known to us; when translating the Ancient Hylian script upon the shipyard map in a further area of this desert, the word Dogu is unearthed. Dogu are humanoid (and animal) figurines found in Japan that date largely from the country’s prehistoric Jomon Period. As with the vast majority of prehistoric artifacts and pieces of art, most of what surrounds them is decades and centuries of beautiful and musty histories and theories. Though many scholars recognize that most Dogu appear to have been shaped after a feminine form, their exact purpose remains a mystery, and some theories hold that they were human effigies, the embodiment of mother goddesses, or that they were vessels of sympathetic magic which could be used in ritualistic healings. [5] The primary features we are looking at, however, are those of form and material. It appears that, like the Dogu, the Ancient Robots were beings with an outer shell of clay that protected likely delicate interior machinery. Analyzing both of these clay figurines yields both great differences and curious similarities. Obviously, the Ancient Robots’ Japanese counterparts lack all electrical components, separate arms, and such emblematic hats. Dogu are more squat, bear more intricate geometric designs (purpose symbolic of tattoos or ritualized scarification), and lack pieces that would enable movement. The Ancient Robots, like their real-world inspiration, are painted a vibrant vermillion, and share many of the same strange facial characteristics. The faces upon both of these diminutive figurines are more human abstractions than they are meant to be realistic; the barest indication of mouth, nose, and eyes are present, but they are meant only to hint at humanity, not to embody it. Unlike in the real world, however, we are able to, through Link, travel back to when these robots were active and learn from primary sources about their curious past.
When the Timeshift Stones are activated in various ways, the dull, faded metal of the desert transforms into varicolored creations of vibrant oranges, red, and teals. The difference in mood between these two states cannot be overstated, as a lifeless desert to a verdant field is as a candle to the sun. [4] As time is altered, and unknown years pass underneath a colorful veil, beauty regains its form, and the environs regain their being. Accompanying this is a very subtle change in music, which enhances the sensory shift to life. Most fascinating of all these changes, however, is the resurrection of the lifeless robots half buried in the sand.
This is another one of those rare times that the origin of an artifact’s design within the Zelda series is known to us; when translating the Ancient Hylian script upon the shipyard map in a further area of this desert, the word Dogu is unearthed. Dogu are humanoid (and animal) figurines found in Japan that date largely from the country’s prehistoric Jomon Period. As with the vast majority of prehistoric artifacts and pieces of art, most of what surrounds them is decades and centuries of beautiful and musty histories and theories. Though many scholars recognize that most Dogu appear to have been shaped after a feminine form, their exact purpose remains a mystery, and some theories hold that they were human effigies, the embodiment of mother goddesses, or that they were vessels of sympathetic magic which could be used in ritualistic healings. [5] The primary features we are looking at, however, are those of form and material. It appears that, like the Dogu, the Ancient Robots were beings with an outer shell of clay that protected likely delicate interior machinery. Analyzing both of these clay figurines yields both great differences and curious similarities. Obviously, the Ancient Robots’ Japanese counterparts lack all electrical components, separate arms, and such emblematic hats. Dogu are more squat, bear more intricate geometric designs (purpose symbolic of tattoos or ritualized scarification), and lack pieces that would enable movement. The Ancient Robots, like their real-world inspiration, are painted a vibrant vermillion, and share many of the same strange facial characteristics. The faces upon both of these diminutive figurines are more human abstractions than they are meant to be realistic; the barest indication of mouth, nose, and eyes are present, but they are meant only to hint at humanity, not to embody it. Unlike in the real world, however, we are able to, through Link, travel back to when these robots were active and learn from primary sources about their curious past.
Jomon dogu: Musée Guimet à Paris - By Vassil - Own work, Public Domain, https://commons.wikimedia.org/w/index.php?curid=4177591
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Dogu - By World Imaging - Own work, photographed at Ueno Museum Tokyo, CC BY-SA 3.0, https://commons.wikimedia.org/w/index.php?curid=11976021
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These squat robots shaped after Dogu were not the only type of robot created by the previous people of this desert, however. When Link asks Fi about the origin of the robots at work in the mine, she states, “This robot is part of the LD-301 Series of artificial life-forms. As just one of a number of mass produced robots, it was not assigned a name. These robots usually work to mine Timeshift Stones and to provide maintenance.” As Link comes across other types of robots, Fi relates that several other classes of robots were created, including the LD-00 series, with LD-002G Scervo and LD-003K Dreadfuse (curiously the only artificial constructs still functional in the present), and the LD-301N Skipper model, which represents the pinnacle of robot production. When Link eventually comes across this Skipper model of robots, he learns several odd things. Within some classes of robots, human-like characteristics and feelings were programmed into their larger code, and the higher models are even capable of imitating human bonds of family. While none of the normal LD-301 constructs appears to demonstrate any depth of feeling or thought beyond the basic exigencies of mining and production, the Skipper model is aware of the concept of death — or at least of non-existence, in terms of having his power depleted. Coupled with the fact that he admits missing his family, it appears that, like Fi, ancient programs were highly sophisticated emulations of an early people.
The relationship of these robots to their architectural surroundings is one of the strangest within the in-game universe of The Legend of Zelda. It is my assumption that the robots were not the primary designers of these vast structures and mining systems, as they worked for the people of this land doing work that was given to them. What is odd is that the designs and embellishments of this region all reflect the robots themselves, not their presumably human creators. The only other potential explanation for this is that the humans programmed the robots to intuitively create these structures, and thus they created buildings in their own image (with some amount of creative power, or pre-programmed creative faculties), and were left to govern and control themselves, provided they met the production quota of their creators. Within either theory, however, we are still left with the same architectural vestiges, and therefore our task is much easier.
The relationship of these robots to their architectural surroundings is one of the strangest within the in-game universe of The Legend of Zelda. It is my assumption that the robots were not the primary designers of these vast structures and mining systems, as they worked for the people of this land doing work that was given to them. What is odd is that the designs and embellishments of this region all reflect the robots themselves, not their presumably human creators. The only other potential explanation for this is that the humans programmed the robots to intuitively create these structures, and thus they created buildings in their own image (with some amount of creative power, or pre-programmed creative faculties), and were left to govern and control themselves, provided they met the production quota of their creators. Within either theory, however, we are still left with the same architectural vestiges, and therefore our task is much easier.
The shape of the robots’ hat is present in many forms.
Within the larger part of the desert, there exist several storage facilities, ancient roads, and a complex power station that controls access to the actual mining facility. Without the use of a Timeshift Stone, the crumbling walls are of a lavender-brown, and carry a design similar to the simple circuitry found upon unprocessed Stones. These walls were likely sourced from this region, as a closer examination of the cliff walls surrounding the desert are also of a shimmering lavender, specked with other earthy hues. As with the processing machines lining the mine track in the initial grove of this area, the gatehouses within these walls are shaped with robotic faces and a sun disc upon their heads. External to the mining facility proper, the most interesting and archetypal constructs are the two smaller storage facilities which house two of the three power nodes necessary for gaining entrance into the central mine. These smaller buildings are basically warehouses, and hold most of their architectural wonder within themselves and not without. As with other locations in the desert, they are filled to a great degree with industrial shipping crates and smaller shipping boxes, all bearing the now-familiar designs of robot and rupee. It appears that everything within is made of metal, from the narrow walkways bound by metal railings to the vast rafters that support the roof. The metal, in the present day, is brown and cobalt, and etched with mainly one geometric shape. If there is one shape symbolic of these robots and their designs, it is the circle. The circle can be found nearly everywhere where they have built, and the walls in this warehouse are a vast glorification of this shape; perhaps they hold astrological importance, as they bear passing resemblance to older star charts. Flanking the central platform of this building (as well as its sister structure across the desert) are two bulletin boards which give insight as to the purposes of these facilities. The signs on these boards warn about safety and safety procedures, remind workers of quotas for shipping, speak to the drastic climatic changes taking place, and, fascinatingly, lay out the cleaning duties and schedules for the Temple of Time. Like the peoples of the volcano and forest, some life form within this desert region was charged with the maintenance (and likely the protection) of one of the goddess’s chosen structures. This further corroborates the theory expounded above in which all those living upon the surface were included in the elaborate designs of the goddess.
The final rooms in these warehouses (those which actually hold the power nodes) are rather incongruous with the rest of the structure, in that they display an artistry not found in the vast majority of this region’s architecture. Largely, the architecture of Lanayru Desert seems merely functional or utilitarian. Yet, here the floor is a deep cobalt and etched with the interlacing circles found elsewhere, but the ceiling is of white clouds floating across a darkened sky, while the stars are visible. In the center of the ceiling is a round stained glass circle representing the sun that is the primary light source in this chamber. These natural elements seem at-odds with the nature-destroying technology of these facilities, yet it may be just another case of preserving in art those things which are destroyed in reality.
The final rooms in these warehouses (those which actually hold the power nodes) are rather incongruous with the rest of the structure, in that they display an artistry not found in the vast majority of this region’s architecture. Largely, the architecture of Lanayru Desert seems merely functional or utilitarian. Yet, here the floor is a deep cobalt and etched with the interlacing circles found elsewhere, but the ceiling is of white clouds floating across a darkened sky, while the stars are visible. In the center of the ceiling is a round stained glass circle representing the sun that is the primary light source in this chamber. These natural elements seem at-odds with the nature-destroying technology of these facilities, yet it may be just another case of preserving in art those things which are destroyed in reality.
The layered-cake design of the outside of the Lanayru Mining Facility is very utilitarian for a desert setting; there are no windows, only one axially-aligned entrance, and the colors are subdued. Notice, once again, the presence of the hat above the lintel leading into the facility.
In terms of features, the main mining facility is not too dissimilar from the two outlying warehouses, and for this reason, we will not linger here too long. That said, there are a few things that deserve highlighting. The first thing is a curious mural of three robots tucked away in a short tunnel system near the middle of the complex. Why this mural is here, in this strange system of crawlspaces, is an absolute mystery; the mystery is compounded as it does not contain any strange or interesting message. The word inscribed above simply states factory, and the robots stand under it, directly facing the viewer. The second thing of note is the existence of Beamos and Armos prototypes in this facility; these were obviously meant to safeguard this structure, and these may have been the place of origination for all such statues throughout Hyrule in later eras. In design, they are much more colorful than their later counterparts, though the general design appears to be largely unchanged throughout the centuries. The last thing of note is the final chamber. After the defeat of Moldarach, a familiar doorway lights up with the insignia of the goddess and reveals one of the largest, most splendid rooms created by these ancient peoples. Passage across this chamber requires the activation of a central Timeshift Stone, and the result of this activation is extraordinary. A huge barrel vault of glass gleams cleanly overhead, letting in a filtered blue light that makes it feel as though this room is in the shallows of a tropical sea. This beautiful light illuminates two rows of seven golden robots each which flank the central mine track; they stand in front of more stained glass which depicts billowing white clouds, a blue sky, and long stalks of green grass, perhaps an image of what was once lost long ago.
Notes and Works Cited:
[1] "The Legend of Zelda: Skyward Sword." Nintendo, n.d. Web. <http://www.zelda.com/skywardsword/>.
[2] Concerning the Ocarina of Time, the Hyrule Historia states on page 86: “Its blue-white radiance brings to mind the Timeshift Stones found in the eras of antiquity.”
Gombos, Michael, and Akira Himekawa. The Legend of Zelda: Hyrule Historia. Milwaukie, OR: Dark Horse, 2013. 86. Print.
[3] The robots used to work for the “people of the region” as described on Nintendo of America’s Skyward Sword website.
"The Legend of Zelda: Skyward Sword." Nintendo, n.d. Web. <http://www.zelda.com/skywardsword/>.
[4] Obviously, the desert is not truly lifeless, as many species are completely unique to this biosphere. Among them is the Gerudo Dragonfly, which has a highly curious name, as the word Gerudo is mentioned at no other time in this game. It therefore seems likely that the name of this dragonfly was adopted for the name of the eventual desert. Also interestingly, the eyes of a dragonfly may have been the inspiration for the non-controversial and more abstract symbol of the Gerudo. [Note: As a result of information detailed in the Zelda Encyclopedia, we now know that this symbol was taken from the back of the King Cobra.]
[5] "Dogū (Clay Figurine) | Japan | Final Jōmon Period (ca. 1000–300 B.C.) | The Met." The Metropolitan Museum of Art, I.e. The Met Museum. The MET, n.d. Web. 09 Oct. 2016. <http://www.metmuseum.org/collection/the-collection-online/search/45532>.
[1] "The Legend of Zelda: Skyward Sword." Nintendo, n.d. Web. <http://www.zelda.com/skywardsword/>.
[2] Concerning the Ocarina of Time, the Hyrule Historia states on page 86: “Its blue-white radiance brings to mind the Timeshift Stones found in the eras of antiquity.”
Gombos, Michael, and Akira Himekawa. The Legend of Zelda: Hyrule Historia. Milwaukie, OR: Dark Horse, 2013. 86. Print.
[3] The robots used to work for the “people of the region” as described on Nintendo of America’s Skyward Sword website.
"The Legend of Zelda: Skyward Sword." Nintendo, n.d. Web. <http://www.zelda.com/skywardsword/>.
[4] Obviously, the desert is not truly lifeless, as many species are completely unique to this biosphere. Among them is the Gerudo Dragonfly, which has a highly curious name, as the word Gerudo is mentioned at no other time in this game. It therefore seems likely that the name of this dragonfly was adopted for the name of the eventual desert. Also interestingly, the eyes of a dragonfly may have been the inspiration for the non-controversial and more abstract symbol of the Gerudo. [Note: As a result of information detailed in the Zelda Encyclopedia, we now know that this symbol was taken from the back of the King Cobra.]
[5] "Dogū (Clay Figurine) | Japan | Final Jōmon Period (ca. 1000–300 B.C.) | The Met." The Metropolitan Museum of Art, I.e. The Met Museum. The MET, n.d. Web. 09 Oct. 2016. <http://www.metmuseum.org/collection/the-collection-online/search/45532>.