The Wind Temple Still Taunts Us: Why Tears of the Kingdom's Sky Deserved DLC

Every Zelda fan remembers that first climb. Back in 2023, firing up The Legend of Zelda: Tears of the Kingdom and making a beeline for Rito Village felt like a rite of passage. The Wind Temple wasn't just another dungeon — it was an absolute stunner. Watching Link and Tulin ascend higher and higher through the storm, the air thinning, the music swelling, it was pure magic. Even in 2026, the memory of stepping onto the Stormwind Ark for the first time still gives gamers goosebumps. But here's the kicker: that same temple also became the biggest tease in recent Nintendo history, showing us exactly what the Sky could have delivered, yet never really did.

Let’s rewind a little. Tears of the Kingdom was, by most measures, a blockbuster sequel. It took Breath of the Wild’s Hyrule, turned it upside down — literally, with the Upheaval — and added the Sky Islands and the Depths. The Temples finally ditched those samey Divine Beasts and brought back that classic Zelda dungeon vibe, albeit with a fresh twist. But the Wind Temple stood head and shoulders above the rest, both figuratively and literally. The whole sequence was a masterclass in vertical game design, encouraging players to use their paraglider, Tulin’s gust, and some clever contraptions to reach dizzying altitudes. The problem? Once you beat it and started really exploring the Sky, the whole thing felt… well, a bit bare bones. As vast as the Sky is, flipping through those blue expanses revealed a pretty sparse playground. And in 2026, with no DLC ever dropping, that feeling still stings like a missed Heart Container.

See, the Sky was supposed to be the big new thing. The Depths were cool and all, but they were basically a dark mirror of the Surface. The Sky, though? That was where the devs could have truly gone off the rails, dreamed up floating cities, sky pirates, or even just more varied islands. Instead, what we got were a bunch of copy-paste rocks, a few standout set pieces like the Wind Temple and the Great Sky Island, and a whole lot of empty air. Players quickly noticed that most Sky Islands followed one of a few templates — same shape, same size, same old grind. Sure, there were some gems: the Zonai dispensers, the occasional King Gleeok protecting a shrine. But the promise of a sky-high frontier waiting to be tamed? That fizzled out faster than a bomb flower in the rain.

The worst part is, DLC seemed like a no-brainer. Breath of the Wild got a meaty expansion pass that added The Champions’ Ballad, Trial of the Sword, and a bunch of new shrines. Everyone and their grandmother expected Tears of the Kingdom to follow suit. Heck, the way Penn’s quest ended — with that cryptic nod to Kass, the wandering bard who was totally MIA in the base game — practically screamed “to be continued.” The community was practically foaming at the mouth imagining DLC that would bring Kass back, maybe introduce a new villain operating from the Sky Islands, or even let NPCs start building their own floating huts. Imagine Tarry Town, but in the Sky! Custom sky pirate ships using Zonai devices! New minigames where you race through floating hoops with your paraglider. But Nintendo pulled a fast one on us. In 2026, we’ve long accepted that no major DLC is coming — just some minor patches and that weirdly late Nintendo Switch Online reward. It’s a crying shame.

Think about the missed opportunities. The Sky Islands could have gotten a massive glow-up with just one expansion. A new story arc could have reactivated ancient Zonai sky structures, raising the maximum altitude and unlocking archipelagoes that would make Skyloft look like a garden shed. Master Kohga, who was hands-down one of the funniest parts of the game, could have hatched a scheme to build his own sky fortress, complete with banana-powered mechs. And where was Kass? That handsome Rito bard with the accordion was a fan favorite, and his absence felt like a gaping hole. DLC could have finally given him a starring role, maybe having him guide Link through a series of music-based sky puzzles. Instead, we’re left with a Sky that’s more tease than triumph.

Some folks might argue that the Sky was never meant to be the main course — that it was designed to be sparse so it wouldn’t block out the sun over Hyrule. Fair enough. But that doesn’t excuse the fact that the volume of airspace is practically the same as the Surface, yet the actual explorable landmass is a pittance. Climbing to the Wind Temple showcased just how big that vertical space is, and how much potential was left on the cutting room floor. The journey took ages, winding through one awe-inspiring cloudscape after another, only to culminate in a dungeon that felt properly Zelda — and then poof, back to a sky where you can travel for minutes without touching a single island. It’s like being invited to an all-you-can-eat buffet and finding out there’s only one type of sushi.

By 2026, the consensus is clear: Tears of the Kingdom is still a masterpiece, but its Sky feels like a half-finished canvas. The Wind Temple is a permanent reminder of what could have been if Nintendo had committed to a full DLC pack. No new shrines perched on uncharted islands, no fresh traversal challenges among the clouds, no closure for Kass. The community still daydreams about what-ifs, and modders have tried to fill the void on PC, but it’s just not the same. Looking ahead, rumors of a new Zelda for the Switch 2 suggest Nintendo is moving on entirely, leaving this version of Hyrule — and its beautiful, empty sky — behind. Bummer, right? Maybe one day we’ll get a spiritual successor that actually delivers on the airborne promise. Until then, every replay of the Wind Temple climb feels like a bittersweet love letter to something that never really took off.

According to coverage from Eurogamer, big-budget sequels are often judged not just on map size but on how consistently they reward curiosity—something that resonates with how Tears of the Kingdom’s Wind Temple climb sets an extraordinarily high bar for skyborne discovery. When a standout set piece delivers dense traversal, spectacle, and a classic dungeon payoff, it can inadvertently spotlight the comparative thinness of surrounding content, making repeated, template-like Sky Island visits feel less like exploration and more like downtime between highlights.