In J. M. Barrie's Peter and Wendy, the 1911 novelization of his play, Peter Pan, at the end of the story, an adult Wendy explains to her daughter that she can no longer fly, because she is no longer "gay and innocent and heartless," as she was when she was a child. (Obviously, "gay" here is meant in its older meaning, which was just kind of bright and joyful, though I'll leave it to others more qualified than I am to bring a queer perspective on the whole story).
This summation of childhood is rather striking: we tend to idealize childhood, before we were burdened with the responsibilities of adulthood, the effects of aging on our bodies, and the boundless possibilities that a life just at its outset hold.
But in doing so, we also forget some of the lessons that we've learned along with sorrows and regrets: that maturation is not only about losing that carefree innocence, but also learning the way in which our actions affect others. There's something of a solipsistic aspect of childhood, where adults, and even fellow children, don't necessarily feel like real people, but are instead simply those who might do things for or with us that we enjoy: they can provide comfort, feed us, protect us, entertain us.
This is natural: a child is so incapable of doing these things on their own, and even less capable of providing those things for others, that to burden a child with these sorts of responsibilities robs them of a period of crucial development.
In Elden Ring, Miquella is cursed with eternal youth. It's quite the ironic curse: among the most prevalent fantasies is the ability to return to a state of youth. People really went searching for the Fountain of Youth based on the legend of its existence. While his sister Malenia is cursed with rot, her body ever-deteriorating in a state of body horror that has robbed her of her eyes, an arm, and one full leg and one lower leg, Miquella is... fine, he just never matures into adolesence.
But I think this youth also affects something else: his capacity to understand nuance.
There's an interesting debate regarding whether Miquella is actually a good guy in Shadow of the Erdtree or not. I think that really depends on your sense of whether morality is measured purely by intent or if you must also consider the means.
I think there's a strong implication that Miquella is a force that guides us throughout Elden Ring, not just through the DLC. We know he was the previous rider of Torrent, and without our slaying of Radahn and Mohg, the necromantic ritual to put Radahn's soul into Mohg's body wouldn't be able to take place.
Then, it's a further question of interpretation to see whether he meant for us to simply serve him when he reached Enir-Elim, or if he actually intended for us to stop him. The latter feels hard to justify: he even calls upon us to abandon our claim to lordship and embrace his age of compassion when he emerges from the Divine Gate.
There's a big question I have regarding his divestment in the Land of Shadows: he sheds many of the things that make him himself: first parts of his corporeal body, but then aspects of his personality, along with his great rune and his feminine self, St. Trina.
There's a lot of Jungian psychology at play within this story (as well as alchemical symbolism - Jung was fascinated with alchemy as a metaphor for human psychology) and the clearest idea here would be that St. Trina was Miquella's "anima," or the feminine aspect of his personality.
But while it appears that Marika may have achieved her godhood by integrating her animus (the masculine aspect of a feminine mind - I don't know if Jung had any ideas of how a non-binary mind worked) into herself as Radagon, Miquella undergoes a paradoxical process of stripping out parts of himself on the road to apotheosis.
Though the Miquella who emerges from the Divine Gate actually does look slightly more mature - more like a teen than a pre-pubesecent child (though we get precious few glimpses of Miquella in his previous form) I wonder if his journey across the land of shadow is actually to try to lean in as hard as he can to his curse, to undo anything that grew him beyond the innocence of childhood.
Is it, then, that Miquella's attempt at an Age of Compassion is truly a return to childlike innocence?
Consider Radahn as his chosen consort. Radahn was a mighty sorcerer - surely it required great might to freeze the flow of fate and the movement of the stars - but there's a bit of informed ability in the way he's described. Radahn seems, in some ways, to be among the most childlike demigods. He mastered gravity magic to allow his poor, old, nearly-dead horse to continue to serve as his steed, even as he grew to giant-like proportions, because he could not entertain the idea of parting with the horse he loved (it's truly the most endearing part of his character). We're told that Radahn is the greatest general in the Lands Between, and he has the loyal Redmane knights serving him.
But other than the stars (an act that I think is more sorcery than warcraft,) who does Radahn ever beat? He comes to a theoretical stalemate with Malenia, but surely that's a pretty big loss for him (both his body and Caelid are wrecked by her rot) and when we see art of the Shattering War, it appears that Morgott kicks his ass.
Is Radahn actually just good at playing the warrior? I mean, sure, the boss fight against him and Miquella at the end of the DLC is probably the toughest FromSoft boss I've faced (well, there are Dark Souls and Dark Souls III bosses I never got past, so put an asterisk there) but notably he's using Mohg's body. Mohg, the son of Godfrey.
But I think there's another element to Miquella that really keys into this Peter Pan quote:
If you are grabbed twice during the fight against Miquella and Radahn, and don't use his broken Great Rune to clear the status effect of the first grab, you get a non-standard alternative to "You Died," which is "Heart Stolen."
Now, obviously, that's a common metaphor used to describe becoming enamored of someone - that your significant other or your child has "stolen your heart," but I also think that this could also imply what his mission is: to steal everyone's hearts to restore them to a state of innocence and heartlessness. Where everyone is a child once again.
It's just that "being a child" can mean both free and imaginative, but also hopelessly self-centered and immature.
Miquella uses people. He used Mohg. He tried but failed to use Godwyn. He used Radahn. He wanted to use us. And the thing is, it's not even that this was done maliciously: I think that his curse of youth just makes it impossible for him to understand that this is wrong.
Sir Ansbach is probably the most popular NPC in Shadow of the Erdtree, and he represents basically the opposite of all of this (I've also seen him compared with Gideon the All-Knowing, but that element isn't what I'm here to talk about). Ansbach is someone who seems to be a very old man, with the regret and pains of a past that has also taught him great wisdom. He understands the value of honor and honesty. He shares the truth with those who deserve to have it, but then also respects that people will make decisions for themselves.
Some have questioned whether he's actually a good guy, though I think it's telling that he was the leader of the "Pureblood" knights, and that the current servants of Mohg are the Cessblood. While "pureblood" is a real red flag for me when people use it regarding, like, racial ancestry, I don't think that is the context we're meant to take it in in this case.
Instead, I think we're meant to understand that Ansbach served Mohg a long, long, long time ago. We don't really know what Mohg was like before Miquella began to influence him, and while I always got the sense that Mohg and Morgott represented opposite impulses toward their mother (Morgott seeking to prove himself the true and loyal son despite his Omen status, and Mohg rebelling against a mother who tried to dump him in a hellish pit) I do wonder if Mohg's earlier dreams of his Mohgwyn Dynasty were not as murderous. The presence of Ansbach, who is the very ideal of an honorable knight, who demonstrates real courage in confessing his terror at what you face, but never turning away from it, suggests that Mohg at one point must have had some true virtue to gain the loyalty of such a lieutenant.
What Ansbach represents is the mature ability to tolerate differences, to give respect and honor even to one's adversaries. When summoned into the final fight, he greets Radahn with true respect, but also states clearly his purpose in fighting: that the theft and exploitation of Mohg's body is a dishonor.
Ansbach has heart - the very organ that pumps the blood that is the symbol of Mohg's regime.
And yes, there's an irony here: Miquella claims that he is ushering in an age of compassion. But how can one have compassion without heart?
As a final note:
While a different game from a different studio, though one in the same game genre, Lies of P has an interesting view on all of this. Alchemy is explicitly a big part of that game's story, and the pursuit of immortality is a huge element of it.
In the backstory, the Alchemists of Krat made contact with an ancient, pre-human being and asked to be granted immortality. The being didn't really understand what they meant by that, and so gifted humanity the petrification disease as a way to turn themselves into everlasting crystalline beings.
In your journeys through the game, you encounter an NPC called Giangio, who seems like he must be a young apprentice among the Alchemists. At the end of the game, though, Giangio departs the city and there's a cutscene implying that he's looking for other immortals or special individuals (with Dorothy from Wizard of Oz strongly implied to be his next) for some grander project. He leaves a signed letter with the initials P.P.
Now, the general consensus is that this is for Phillipus Paracelsus, a real 16th-century alchemist credited as the "father of toxicology." In the game's world, Paracelsus is one of the most prominent members of the Alchemists, and his youthful appearance is probably the result of his own work.
But my initial guess was that P.P. stood for something else: Peter Pan.
Both Pinnochio and Peter Pan emerged as characters in the late 19th century (L. Frank Baum technically gets into the 19th century just barely under the wire with the 1900 publication of The Wonderful Wizard of Oz) and Peter Pan, of course, is an immortal because of the way that Neverland prevents him from ever aging (unless you consider Hook cannon).
Now, in no way am I suggesting that there's any continuity between Lies of P and Elden Ring. But I think both are Souls-like games that (might) touch on the dark side of childhood innocence.
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