Ciri's transformation does not impact negatively any of the foundational lore previously established—a very quick essay.
To understand this phenomenon, we must first examine the origins and principles of the Trial of the Grasses, as described in the books and not so much explored in the games.
This excruciating process involves administering potions, mutagens, and viral agents designed to transform the human body into a superhuman combat machine. Historically, it was a process reserved for orphaned boys.
In the first book, Geralt himself remarks on the lethal nature of the procedure, attributing his own survival to his exceptional physiology, which reacted so favorably to the mutations that it resulted in the complete depigmentation of his hair.
"Yes, Kaer Morhen... That’s where I went through the usual mutation. First, the Trial of the Grasses; then the usual things: hormones, infusions, infections with viruses. And again. And once more. Until the desired result was achieved. Since I endured all the mutations surprisingly well and got sick for only a short time, I was considered a boy of extreme endurance and chosen for certain... more complicated experiments. That was worse. Much worse. But, as you can see, I managed to withstand it. I was the only survivor of the entire group that underwent those more advanced experiments. Since that time, I’ve had white hair. Complete absence of hair pigment. A side effect, as they say, something trivial that hardly interferes at all."
The Trial of the Grasses is described as one of the most brutal moments in witchers' training, a process that transcends average human resistance and subverts it. In Blood of Elves, Geralt explicitly mentions the alarming mortality rate:
"Only one in ten boys survives. The rest... simply disappear"
This sentence not only explicitly states the dangers of the procedure but also hints at an element of natural exclusion: it is not biology that prevents women from participating, but the brutal statistic that, even for boys, success is an exception. The exclusion of women, in this sense, is pragmatic.
CDPR has gradually paved the way for the introduction of female Witchers, embedding relevant concepts in the lore—not being canon for its own world building. For instance, in the 'Gwent' spinoff "Rogue Mage", which narrates the story of Alzur—the mage who created the first witcher—it is established that Alzur conducted experiments on a woman in his quest to create witchers. While the procedure proved unsuccessful, resulting in her death (albeit painless), it demonstrates that the possibility of female witchers was not entirely dismissed. This description, although not from the books, complements the canon by showing that women were indeed considered in the initial context of witcher creation, but were abandoned due to practical difficulties.
Moreover, subsequent attempts were made. CDPR's "The Witcher" tabletop RPG notes that later experiments by Alzur involved girls, though they succumbed to illness more rapidly than boys. Importantly, it is never stated that no girls survived or that further attempts were abandoned after Alzur’s death.
"But as the experimentation continued the concoctions the mages prepared for us became harsher and most of the girls quickly took ill. Jagoda was among them. I tried to take care of her, but most nights I just wound up talking with her and bringing her cool water. When the sorcerers started their experimentations, it grew clear that the majority of us wouldn't survive and girls would fair the worst. But they pressed on. For more than a month, our numbers dwindled"
Some might argue that the School of the Cat purportedly "produced" female witchers or cite the existence of Dragonfly, the supposed first female witcher; however, this claim is primarily derived from a low-budget Polish TV series based on the books, produced in 2001, which Sapkowski (or anyone at CDPR) never canonized.
Crucially, nowhere in the books does it state that it is impossible for a woman to become a witcher or to survive the Trial of the Grasses. When Ciri is brought to Kaer Morhen for training, Lambert merely notes that no girl has ever been trained there before. Similarly, Eithné, the queen of the dryads of Brokilon, observes in the second book that witchers have historically sought out boys to serve as their successors.
\"I'm still a long way from mastering anything. But i'm trying. Anyway, I did learn from the best\"
This same harrowing process was undergone by Ciri, years later after the first tests made by Alzur, despite her already exceptional nature and formidable power.
In Blood of Elves, Geralt emphasizes Ciri's resilience, contextualizing her lived experiences as equal to—or even surpassing—the trials endured by novice Witchers. He states:
"This little girl," said Geralt, his voice low and calm,"this delicate and diminutive princess survived the massacre of Cintra. Left to her own devices, she passed through the courts of Nilfgaard. She managed to escape bandits who raided villages, killing and destroying everything in their path. She survived for two weeks in the forests of Transriver. She spent a month dragging herself along with a group of fugitives, working as hard as any of them and enduring the same hunger. Then, taken in by a pair of peasants, she spent almost half a year working in the fields and herding cattle. Believe me, Triss. Life has provided her with experience, toughened her, and made her no less resilient than the ruffians and vagabonds we once dragged off the roads to Kaer Morhen. Ciri is no weaker than those thrown away like us, left in taverns or wicker baskets to be taken by Witchers. As for her gender, what difference does it make?"
Andrzej Sapkowski's language notably suggests Ciri’s identity as a symbolic Witcher. In Time of Contempt, Geralt even describes her as “a Witcher in everything but name”—this observation echoes not only her intensive combat training but also her moral and psychological stance, shaped by her time among the Witchers. Geralt’s rhetoric dismantles the traditional prerequisites of masculinity or gendered physicality associated with Witcherhood, emphasizing instead that Ciri's lived experiences are formative and qualifying. This critique of entrenched societal notions about gender and capability invites readers to reimagine what it means to be a Witcher, transcending the rigid constructs of mutation alone.
Triss’s observations in Sword of Destiny amplify this discourse:
"They must be feeding her (Ciri) the legendary saprophytes from the caves, fungi from mountains unknown to science, and giving her the famous potions prepared with special herbs to drink. This way, the girl develops rapidly, acquiring the witchers' satanic qualities, all in a natural manner, without mutations, without risks, and without a hormonal revolution*. But the sorceress cannot know this. For her, this must remain a secret. They will tell me nothing and show me nothing."*
"I saw how the girl ran. I saw how she danced with the sword, balancing on a beam, agile and quick, full of a nearly feline grace, moving like an acrobat. I must see her naked and verify how she developed under the effect of what they are feeding her. And if I could manage to steal and take some samples of those ‘mushrooms’ and ‘salads’ out of here? Who knows..."
Here, the narrative unveils an alternative route to Witcher-like abilities—an organic transformation that bypasses the alchemical crucible of the Trial of the Grasses.
Sapkowski creates a duality: while Ciri has not undergone literal mutations, her physical and cognitive evolution mirrors that of a Witcher, albeit through a naturalistic lens. Geralt and Triss’s observations highlight that she has endured as much as, if not more than, traditional Witcher trainees, developing Witcher-like skills naturally. While she hasn’t undergone mutations, her training, resilience, and Elder Blood make her uniquely qualified; and Ciri is clearly not normal. She was more impressive than Geralt as a child, for example.
Ciri occupies a liminal space within the universe, embodying a synthesis of the mystical, martial, and human. Her unique training, unparalleled powers, and integration into the ethos of Kaer Morhen render her, as posited, the only viable candidate for female Witcherhood. This is reinforced by the text, where characters and the narrative voice intermittently refer to her as a Witcher—not as a mere linguistic flourish but as a deliberate act of characterization. If a female Witcher is to exist, that woman must unequivocally be Ciri—she has already undergone the requisite training, been subjected to certain enhancements, withstood all precautionary trials, and wields the most unparalleled power within the narrative's universe.
Why would Ciri, already surpassing any Witcher in capability, choose to undergo the physical and psychological crucible of mutation? Why turning into a fully mutated Witcher, the very first one by choice?
This question speaks not to narrative dissonance but to character agency, inviting a deeper exploration of Ciri’s psychology. The reductive claim that "Ciri becoming a Witcher violates the lore" fails to grasp the nuanced intricacies of Sapkowski's narrative and the philosophical foundations of Ciri’s character. Instead, the central question becomes one of thematic congruence: how might such a transformation reflect Ciri’s evolution, and what deeper truths could it reveal about her struggle for autonomy and identity?
To make Ciri a compelling counterpart to Geralt in the next installment of The Witcher saga, one must delve deeply into the forces that define them, crafting a contrast not merely in mechanics or narrative but in their philosophical and emotional cores. While Geralt embodies the tempered steel of resignation and calculated neutrality, Ciri could emerge as an unpredictable flame, ignited by the chaos of destiny and the weight of her power. This opposition should not simply serve the plot but root itself in her psyche, emphasizing their emotional and existential divergence.
This change, far from desecrating the lore, enriches it, inviting readers to grapple with the multifaceted nature of power, destiny, and choice. And it is certain that CDPR will delve deeper into it.
Sapkowski also has shown no concern for changes to the original lore within the games, as long as they add depth and complexity to the story. Creativity and narrative innovation, even while using the lore as a foundation, are important. CDPR has proven capable of balancing these concepts well, as the games have never strictly adhered to the original material. The author himself has never been directly involved in the creative process of the games’ stories.
Watch the interview: https://youtu.be/O4PZ_xXhapc?si=tyvAp5a2Q1Dk0n_8
"The narrative decisions made by the creators did not disrupt the original story, especially since the key aspects had been agreed upon with me beforehand. The creators asked me in a somewhat informal manner whether it would be acceptable to craft such a storyline as they envisioned. I responded that the idea of convergence across media—where a comic acts as a prequel to a book and a game serves as its sequel—is not true. The characters featured, the timeline, and the events portrayed hold no absolute significance.
The assumption that "I know how the story of the Witcher concluded beyond the books" is entirely incorrect. The notion that the games are a direct continuation of the books is mistaken. From the beginning, I was well aware of this—and therefore I did not view such creative choices as problematic. The creators’ idea of having Geralt rise from obscurity or return from some deep recess, as part of their storyline, was their original creative decision. I found it to be much more engaging than simply adhering to traditional constraints or retreading old ground. Their approach added freshness and depth to the narrative"
TLDR: Ciri becoming a Witcher is entirely plausible within The Witcher lore or CDPR own canon. The real question isn’t about lore consistency—but why Ciri, already immensely powerful, would choose to become a fully mutated Witcher. That is something that will be pivotal for Ciri's arc, as Sebastian Kalemba mentioned at recent interviews. We'll grow with her, and understand her motivations.
(also: there’s nothing wrong with disliking ciri’s character, preferring not to play as her, or wishing she weren’t the protagonist. these are subjective perspectives, and that’s fine. the issue arises when people echo shallow arguments from youtubers who lack a deeper understanding of any witcher-related media, using inflammatory rhetoric to fuel empty cultural-war debates among easily influenced audiences. these pseudo-moralist crusaders, in the end, fail to appreciate the nuances of the main story and these characters arcs. we should remain critical of corporations, for sure—CDPR has made its share of mistakes, definetely—but this "woke, dei, lore-breaking" discourse about the witcher 4 is frankly tiring)