Blood of Elves

Identity takes several forms in Blood of Elves, intersecting with issues of race, family, and vocation. Ciri is surprised to learn she has an elven name even though she is not an elf. Later, Yennefer identifies Ciri as having elven blood, but “there is not much of it in her” (351), as it likely came from an elven great-grandfather or great-grandmother. Genealogically, Ciri “belongs” to both groups, but socially and culturally she was raised exclusively human. This is not surprising, as one of the elves at Bleobheris says humans persecuted interracial children, which would give royal families in particular a strong incentive to hide the existence of any elven heritage.

The loss of Ciri’s family also complicates the way she thinks about identity. Ciri feels that she began “another life” when she met Geralt, her old life in Cintra “irrevocably wiped out” (378). She views her life in separate stages, discrete moments she can box up and set aside, rather than as a collection of experiences that all form who she is. Ciri blocks out memories of her past because she feels it is permanently gone. She cannot be Princess Cirilla anymore, since her home was destroyed and her family killed. She tries to understand who she is after losing everything she once felt made her who she was. Yennefer’s questions about Ciri’s past evoke memories that demonstrate how much those things still matter: Ciri’s past is real, and she cannot exclude it from her present identity.

Ciri links her identity most strongly to whatever role she fills at that time. She resisted Yennefer’s mentorship because she felt that becoming a magician would mean she could not be a witcher anymore. Ciri is proud of her ties to Kaer Morhen and the witchers, and she finds strength in that role: “I’m not frightened! Pah-pah! I’m a witcher” (386). That said, as she embraces her abilities and grows closer to Yennefer, Ciri does begin to identify more closely with that part of herself: “I’m not just some novice feeding hens for eggs. I am…a wizard” (339).

Ciri’s remark is suggestive in light of the excerpt from The Poisoned Source where Tissaia de Vries asserts that “no one is born a wizard” (329). This statement posits a difference between what someone is born and what they later become. Geralt voices a similar sentiment when he says that being a witcher is not what he chose, but something chosen for him. He was born an ordinary child and became a witcher by someone else’s choice, but he became a father to Ciri of his own volition. Yennefer’s character development also reflects this distinction between being born and becoming, choosing or being chosen. Yennefer had to choose between being a sorceress and being a mother, but by the novel’s end, Yennefer chooses to open herself up to Ciri, allowing herself to feel and have what she never thought possible. Ciri’s presence in Geralt and Yennefer’s lives makes them learn how to become the people they wanted to be but never believed they could. Their family unit makes them feel like they finally belong in the world in a way that aligns with their true selves.

Closely related to the issue of belonging is the nature of family. Geralt and the witchers become Ciri’s family, and they do their best to raise her despite their limited knowledge of girls. Coën, Lambert, and Eskel are like Geralt’s brothers, and Vesemir is like their father. They take care of Ciri because they have to, but they care about her because they want to. In this case, being a family is a choice one makes to include, provide for, and love someone else. Although Geralt often has to figure out fatherhood as he goes along, he resents Philippa’s accusation that he will fail Ciri: “You accused me of being a bad guardian, that I don’t know how to protect the child. I will protect her. As best I can. I will kill. I will kill mercilessly” (328). Similarly, Triss’s love for Ciri allows her to realize that Ciri needs more help than she can give her. Like the witchers, Triss ultimately wants what is best for Ciri, even if she cannot provide it herself, which demonstrates that being family requires selflessness and sometimes sacrifice. Everyone at Kaer Morhen wants Ciri to feel safe, strong, and loved, and they seem aware that one person cannot provide all of those things. The witchers especially empathize with Ciri’s being orphaned and losing her home, fitting their lessons to what Ciri seems to need most—for example, teaching her combat skills so she can defend herself and not feel afraid.

In the novel’s concluding chapter, Yennefer becomes a mother to Ciri despite learning from a young age that motherhood was never a possibility for her: “Each one of us must decide what she wants to be—a wizard or a mother” (329). Ciri first calls Yennefer “Mama” after she has vision of the sorceress tortured in chains, and Yennefer calls Ciri “daughter” while comforting her after an intense vision. While Ciri’s other familial bonds are evident, what she and Yennefer share is the first connection in which both people put their bond into words.

Ciri’s family relationships are also pedagogical relations; each of Ciri’s new “family members” teaches her more about herself and the world around her. The witchers, especially Geralt, teach her self-defense: how to recognize danger, to overcome fear, and to trust in her own strength. Triss teaches Ciri languages but also helps Ciri embrace her femininity by teaching her how to apply makeup and learn about her changing body. Yarpen’s remarks on Triss’s feeling for Geralt show Ciri that much in the same way there are different ways people can be a family, there are also different ways in which people can love one another. Afterwards, Ciri sees Geralt as more than just her protector and father; he is his own individual with his own relationships and feelings. Especially as children mature, familial relationships go both ways, with children learning to extend the same selfless love to their parents as their parents have shown to them.

Within the world of the Witcher series, “race” refers not to skin color or ethnic heritage but rather to something like species—specifically, the differences between humans, elves, dwarves, and other humanoid beings. These various races have long and often bloody histories interacting with one another; at the time Blood of Elves takes place, humans are the dominant group, having colonized the territories that once belonged to elves and relegated all nonhuman species to second-class citizenship. At Dandelion’s concert, for example, the crowd is described as being separated by race. However, this scene also establishes that prejudices of any kind are learned behaviors: “Children of elves, dwarves, halflings, gnomes, half-elves, quarter-elves, and toddlers of mysterious provenance neither knew nor recognized racial or social divisions. At least, not yet” (11). This harmonious image contrasts with the debate that unfolds after Dandelion’s last song, during which one human claims Nilfgaardians (the Northern Kingdoms’ enemies) are descended from elven bloodlines—as if this explains the animosity between the two regions. An elf in attendance responds, “[S]how me a human now who hasn’t a dash of Seidhe Ichaer, the blood of the Elder Race” (25). In this conversation, a human blames elves writ large for the actions of other humans, which demonstrates a dangerous ideology rooted in false equivalences.

In point of fact, Nilfgaard is most likely emboldening Scoia’tael commandos with antihuman propaganda. Yarpen Zigrin tells Ciri that Nilfgaardian emissaries support the Scoia’taels in order to sow internal discord among the Northern Kingdoms; they will be too busy fighting amongst themselves to mount a defense against Nilfgaard. However, this propaganda is effective only because of the racism within the Northern Kingdoms. For example, a quotation from Marshal Milan Raupenneck reads, “A good elf is a dead elf” (141). This is a call for genocide and rhetorically follows the same format as the ubiquitous antisemitic and anti-Japanese propaganda of the 1940s. The history that Yarpen teaches Ciri suggests that something of the kind has already occurred; the killing or relocating of any elf who resisted human colonization is analogous to ethnic cleansing.

However, Yarpen’s lessons also complicate the novel’s depiction of relations between nonhuman groups. According to him, gnomes and dwarves were the first races, subjected to the same forceful colonization that their elvish conquerors would later endure from humans: “They—to be accurate—happen to be strangers just as much as you humans […] Now they’re competing with each other to offer us friendship, suddenly we’re all brothers […] Before, their arrows used to whistle past our ears” (174). His statement highlights the apparent hypocrisy of elves, as they use their violent history with humans to justify guerilla warfare (or terrorism, if one is on the receiving end of their efforts) while expecting gnomes and dwarves to ignore the violence elves committed against them. At the same time, the fact that elves in the past might have committed atrocities against other races does not mean that the elves living in the present deserve to suffer similar atrocities. The history Yarpen tells Ciri highlights the fact that there is no such thing as a “perfect” victim.

The racial tensions between humans and nonhumans extend beyond outright violence; these prejudices also bear significant social and cultural consequences. Yarpen argues for what a modern reader may call assimilation: “We have to live next to each other […] Damn it all, it took a hundred years but, somehow or other, we managed to live a common life, next to each other, together” (181). However, the trap set for his caravan indicates that no matter how fervently Yarpen tries to prove his loyalty, humans will never see him as anything other than a potential threat. Yarpen’s realization that his “special mission” was a set-up is particularly devastating because it shows the reader that he truly saw the best in everyone involved. The peaceful coexistence for which Yarpen advocates seems, at this point in time, impossible.