The Quiet Power of Female Rage – How The Buried King Redefines Strength in Fantasy
- David Dillon
- Aug 15
- 3 min read
When most fantasy stories introduce a heroine with a tragic past and a fallen kingdom, readers brace for the firestorm. They expect war cries, bloodshed, and vengeance wrapped in a sword. But The Buried King by Kilayla Pilon chooses a different path, one that is quieter, slower, and far more haunting. It doesn't just tell the story of Elika, a displaced princess with fire in her veins. It reveals what it means to carry female rage like an ember, not a blaze.
This is not the rage that explodes. It’s the kind that burns steadily, quietly, just beneath the surface. And in doing so, it redefines what it means to be powerful in a genre that often mistakes aggression for agency.

A Rage That Remembers
Elika doesn’t scream at the heavens or lead armies into battle. Instead, she survives, moment by moment, memory by memory. Her power isn’t expressed through dominance, but endurance. And that is exactly where her strength lies.
She carries the weight of a broken family, a kingdom betrayed, and a childhood ripped away. But she doesn’t collapse under it. She moves forward with a grace that aches. There is fury inside her, you feel it every time she clenches a fist, hides a scar, or watches the firelight flicker with dangerous intention. But she never lets it consume her. That restraint is not weakness. It is control.
In fantasy, restraint is rarely celebrated. But here, it speaks louder than any act of open violence.
The Fire That Doesn't Burn the World (Yet)
Elika’s elemental magic is fire, but it doesn’t function like a weapon. It’s intimate. It hums at her fingertips, flickers in her palm, dances when her emotions rise. But unlike the typical fire-wielder trope, she doesn’t use it to destroy. She uses it to feel. To remember. To survive cold nights, to light the path, to keep her people, and herself, from freezing.
This is how The Buried King elevates rage: by not turning it into a spectacle. Elika could easily be written as the vengeful daughter storming a palace. Instead, she is the quiet, grieving woman who knows exactly how dangerous she could be, and chooses when and how to use that power. The result is more unsettling than any explosion. It’s a fire that’s waiting. Watching. Growing.
The Burden of Being Right
There’s another kind of fury in Elika’s world, the rage that comes from being unheard. As she tries to rally allies, speak truth, and protect those she loves, she is constantly met with silence, dismissal, and reluctance. Her brother won’t return to Eris. Her friend Ash hides half-truths. Even her allies speak in riddles and shadows. And through it all, she stays.
She doesn’t lash out. She doesn’t abandon the cause. She endures, even when her words are ignored. That kind of emotional labor, to persist in a world that refuses to listen, is its own quiet revolution.
Her power comes not just from her magic, but from her refusal to give up on what she knows is right, no matter how isolating it becomes.
A New Kind of Fantasy Heroine
We’ve seen heroines fueled by revenge. We’ve seen them take on kingdoms with swords and dragons. Elika is different. She is patient. Observant. She grieves, yes, but she also listens. She doubts. She hopes. And through it all, her rage simmers below the surface like a second heartbeat.
She is not the loudest person in the room. But she is the one who sees through every lie.
She is not fearless. But she shows up, over and over, even when it hurts.
She is not unbreakable. But she never lets herself shatter.
And perhaps that is the most radical strength of all.
Final Thought: Strength Doesn't Have to Roar
The Buried King reminds us that rage doesn’t always wear armor. Sometimes, it wears a scarf over a scar. Sometimes, it sips wine quietly while planning the next step. Sometimes, it says nothing at all, because it’s saving every ounce of energy for the moment that matters.
Elika doesn’t just carry the story, she smolders through it. And in doing so, she gives readers something rare: a portrait of feminine strength that is fiery, yes, but on her terms. Buy The Buried King Now and discover the true meaning of courage and redemption.
She doesn’t need to shout to be heard. She is already burning.
Comments