There’s something about family that sticks with us, isn’t there? Whether we love them, fight with them, or find ourselves tangled in a web of shared history and unspoken expectations, family relationships shape us in ways that are impossible to ignore. And nowhere is that truer than in the world of fantasy.
Epic quests? Magical battles? Kingdoms teetering on the brink of ruin? Sure, those things make for thrilling reading, but when you strip away the swords and sorcery, what really lingers in our minds are the relationships—the love, the loss, the betrayal, the sacrifices. At its core, fantasy has always been about more than just grand adventures; it’s about the bonds that tie us together and the ones we break along the way.
Let’s dig in!
Why Fantasy is the Perfect Lens for Exploring Relationships
There’s a reason fantasy stories so often center on the bonds between family—whether those ties are by blood or forged in fire. Fantasy magnifies the struggles we all face, stretching them out across worlds where emotions take physical shape, and legacies can be written in the stars. The stakes are always high, the conflicts larger than life, but at their core, these stories are deeply personal.
Think about some of the most iconic fantasy tales. A Song of Ice and Fire gives us power-hungry parents, siblings locked in bitter rivalries, and entire family lines crumbling under the weight of expectation. Harry Potter may be a battle between good and evil, but at its heart, it’s about a boy searching for the love and belonging he never had at home. Even The Cruel Prince is a masterclass in family dynamics, exploring how shared blood doesn’t always mean shared loyalty.
Fantasy takes what is already powerful about these relationships and dials it up to eleven. A father’s disappointment doesn’t just sting—it determines the fate of a kingdom. A sibling rivalry isn’t just about outshining each other—it’s a fight for survival in a world where allegiances mean life or death. A mother’s love isn’t just a comforting presence—it’s a force that can shake the very foundations of magic itself.
And maybe that’s why we, as readers, keep coming back to these stories. We see echoes of ourselves in them. We recognize the tension, the longing, the need to be seen and understood. Because whether it’s a noble house fighting for dominance, a chosen one struggling against their destiny, or a ragtag band of misfits finding a family of their own, the truth remains the same:
Fantasy isn’t just about escaping our world. It’s about understanding it.
And when it comes to family, sometimes a little magic is the only way to make sense of it all.
Family Dynamics in The Legion of Pneumos
Fantasy may be about magic, but the real heart of the story always lies in the relationships that shape us. In The Legion of Pneumos series, family—whether by blood or by choice—defines each character’s journey in ways they can’t always see until it’s too late.
Some, like Keira, struggle with the ghosts of an imperfect childhood. Others, like Neval, chase after love they never received, while Basha carries the burden of a sister’s legacy that was never meant to be hers. These relationships don’t just add depth to the story; they drive everything—motivations, conflicts, and, ultimately, the choices that define who they become.
Keira and Her Mother – A Daughter Seeking Approval
In The Cantor, Keira Altman learned early that love could be unreliable. Raised by her mother, Tammy, a woman with a heart too big and boundaries too weak, Keira spent most of her childhood playing the role of the responsible one. Tammy drifted from one toxic relationship to the next, believing in second chances even when they weren’t deserved, and the worst part? She dragged Keira along for the ride.
There’s love there—deep, undeniable love. But love doesn’t always mean safety, and as much as Keira adored her mother, she resented the instability that shaped her childhood.
Then she dies.
Ripped from her world and thrown into Loren, Keira finds herself in a place where she’s suddenly the one who’s lost. The mother she once wished she could escape is now a painful absence, leaving behind a raw wound of guilt and longing. But what haunts Keira most isn’t just the loss—it’s the fear that she’ll make the same mistakes.
If there’s one thing her mother taught her, it’s that trusting others, letting yourself be vulnerable, is dangerous. Love can be a trap. Dependence is a weakness. And yet, the deep irony of Keira’s arc is that she cannot fully wield her pneumonic power until she embraces that very vulnerability.
Neval and His Father – The Weight of Legacy
In The Rebel, Neval has spent his whole life fighting a battle that started long before he was born. His father was a disgrace. A drunk. The town embarrassment. And when you grow up as the son of a man like that, people don’t let you forget it.
So if they were going to hate him anyway, why not give them a real reason?
That’s how it started—the rebellion, the reckless defiance, the determination to be known for what he did, rather than what his father failed to do.
But the real battle Neval has to fight isn’t against the Empire. It’s against himself.
Because his father has his own story, his own pain, his own burdens that Neval never understood. And when the moment comes—the moment where he can choose anger or forgiveness—Neval is forced to face the truth: that hating his father has shaped him just as much as loving him would have.
And he has to decide which version of himself he wants to be.
Basha and Her Sister – Sibling Bonds and Sacrifices
In The Remnant, Basha never wanted to be the responsible one. That was always Sara’s job.
Sara, the eldest. The perfect one. The Signet.
And Basha? She was the bold one, the wild one, the one who dreamed of adventure and escape. She never wanted to rule, never wanted the weight of leadership on her shoulders. But then Sara was gone.
And everything changed.
With her sister dead, the duty falls to Basha, whether she wants it or not. She is now the heir, the leader of a people struggling against rising sea levels and dangerous sinkholes. She alone must unravel the mystery of her sister’s death. But how can she lead when part of her still feels like the reckless child she’s always been? How can she step into her sister’s place when part of her has always resented living in her shadow?
And worse—what if some part of her blames herself?
Grief and guilt are heavy things, and for Basha, they are chains. Chains that bind her to a past she cannot change and a future she cannot escape. But in order to lead, in order to survive, she has to do the one thing she has never been able to do.
She has to stop running.
She has to face who she is.
And maybe, just maybe, she has to forgive the sister she lost—and herself.
Conclusion: The Power of Found Families in Fantasy
In the end, the true magic of fantasy isn’t just in the battles, the spells, or the ancient prophecies. It’s in the relationships that define us, the wounds that shape us, and the love that refuses to let us go.
Whether it’s Keira learning that strength comes from vulnerability, Neval realizing that forgiveness is harder than rebellion, or Basha stepping out of her sister’s shadow to become her own kind of leader, the core of The Legion of Pneumos is the same: family—whether by blood or by choice—determines who we are.
So tell me—what are some of your favorite family dynamics in fantasy? Do you love the messy sibling rivalries, the overbearing but well-meaning parents, the found families that become stronger than blood?
Drop a comment below and let’s talk about it. Because in the end, stories—like family—are meant to be shared.
