The Witcher is a game released by CD Projekt Red to popular
and critical acclaim. It is a gritty, single-player fantasy where players take-on
the role of Geralt, a professional monster slayer. They are based on a series
of books written by the Polish author Andrzej Sapkowski. The following thoughts
concern the romantic options presented to the player in the series finale, The
Witcher: The Wild Hunt (2015).
From a romantic perspective, the key decision for Geralt is
between Yennefer, his long-time ‘on again, off again’ lover, and Triss, his
friend who becomes his lover after he suffers from amnesia. The game allows
players to make this choice for themselves. We only know of how Yennefer and
Triss interact with Geralt, and the game’s perspective of them is almost
entirely through the eyes of Geralt and his friends.
The stern, witty, and fierce Yennefer is the most obvious
choice for the player. She has a key role in the books (that in the world’s
timeline precede the games), with her introduction to the game franchise not
until the third and final instalment. Despite this being the case, I was always
quite certain the best choice for Geralt was the passionate, romantic, ever
playful Triss.
First, the argument against Yennefer. Geralt’s relationship
with Yennefer is long, but clearly strained. They go back over decades, but
have had frequent periods of separation and breaks. Their relationship, despite
how many times it may fall apart, manages to always fall back together. The player
at the start of the game is not certain whether this may be due to a wish
Yennefer made to a Djinn when they first met that they would be together, but
given the history the simple comfort of familiarity could be as good an
explanation.
I know in my own life, the familiarity of a relationship and
a person has often seemed enough to justify the prolonging of a damaging
relationship, and venture to say that others may have had the same. Something
about their voice, the way your future is already planned out, the way you have
shared rituals together over the laundry or the washing-up, make the thought of
an alternative strange, foreign, and especially unattractive for the risk
averse. When faced with the loss of all you know, you choose to return to the
familiar rather than take the leap. You
choose this time and time again, always convincing yourself it is the sensible
route, forgetting that your own judgment is impaired by the comfort of
familiarity and the fear of the foreign. Safety, even in a relationship in
which you may not be happy or are getting hurt, becomes more valuable than the
relationship itself.
Geralt’s friends point this out the tumoultous nature of
Geralt’s relationship with the dark-haired sorceress, to the point where
critique passes into humour. Even his friends have become amusingly familiar
with the tumult of the relationship. Geralt for all this time, refuses to look
inward. He was a man capable of overcoming many trials and tribulations in the
course of his life and his professional work (to make a living monster slaying
would require nothing less), and so felt the need to rise to the challenge of
making the relationship work everytime. For the ideal witcher and
monster-slayer Geralt, no contract to kill any monster is too challenging. When
this philosophy is applied to love however, it falters when your lover may be
the monster and your words turn out to be no substitute for swords. His
relationship with her was a contract he continually sought to fulfil despite,
and perhaps in spite of, the incompatibility of it. To the achiever begets the challenge
of the next achievement.
When the game starts and we are introduced to Yennefer this
is clear. Since returning from the Wild Hunt she has accrued power through
positioning herself close to the Emperor of Nilfgard, trusting that Geralt too would
turn-up eventually. Contrast this with the fact that Geralt’s sole aim
initially was to find Yennefer. Yennefer’s priorities remain towards the
pursuit of power, even if power may be useful in finding Ciri. She is a
professional and ambitious woman. No doubt Geralt admires her drive and focus,
and is perhaps partly envious of her decisiveness. But these come at the cost
of her priorities. Her love for Geralt is conditional on when it is convenient.
On his return from the Wild Hunt, Yennefer expects history to repeat itself,
and Geralt to simply follow in his love of her.
When we consider Triss there is the misplaced temptation to
suggest she is a complete foil to Yennefer. It is true Triss and Yennefer in
fact share many traits. This includes a natural curiousity (especially for
magic), a wit to match Geralt’s, and a sense of determination and focus.
However in contrast to Yennefer, Triss’ focus is on helping others rather than
accruing power. In a similar way that Geralt cannot stand by and allow an innocent
to be murdered when it is within his power to act, Triss risks her own life by arranging
and coordinating the dangerous clandestine evacuation of mages out of the city
of Novigrad. Her drive is not towards power, but towards achieving a benefit
for the greater community. Her values in this way align with Geralt.
In similar contrast to Yennefer, her love of Geralt is
uncompromising and unconditional. She loves him regardless of whether she
herself is loved (in fact having loved him for many years despite Geralt’s own
love for Yennefer). She loves him regardless of what she gains or what may be
convenient. She is counted among his best friends, and for this reason even when
they are not romantically involved, they have a firm basis for a relationship
still. She brings a gentleness to Geralt and tempers his drive, rather than
seeking to exceed it. She is the lover Geralt needs, even if he might not
realise it at first. Yennefer is the perfect match for who Geralt is. Triss is
the perfect match for who Geralt is seeking to become. Choosing Triss remains
one of the most character defining experiences I have had in a game, because it
reflects genuine self-growth of both Geralt, and of me.
Applied to our own lives, the romantic dilemma presented to
Geralt at the start of the Witcher game suggests that our relationships need to
reflect our own personal aspirations. That we must answer who we seek to become
before answering who we need to be with. Like in my own life, it suggests a
relationship saved solely by familiarity might not be worth saving at all. It
suggests we ought heed the advice of our friends, that being with someone does
not guarantee they have your best interests at heart. It reminds us that friendship
remains a fertile garden for love, and even the best of monster slayers may
need help to slay their own. It affirms love requires maturity and
self-compassion. All this in a game.
