Stormcallers

Hearken and hear the tale of Rukiya, she of Puddle Tears, wise woman of Lergos, caller of storms, Phalamili, scourge of the empire, midwife of the Wailing Hour, Ada, shackle-breaker, she most fortunate, mother, daughter, and friend; But before she earned her many names, before the scars and wrinkles covered her skin like the bark of a tree, before legends were whispered of her among the many floating islands of the cloud-sea, her only name was Rukiya.

She only had one name? Why?

Because it was the way of the many tribes of Lergos, who called themselves the People, to give only a single name to their children. From the nomadic Onwatomi to the steadfast and bloodthirsty Biret, there was never a need for a second name; Rukiya was Rukiya, and she was of the Orenda people.

Ah, colonialism.

Anti-colonial texts are hard to write, especially when you yourself are a colonialist. In a very real way, anti-colonialism is not my wheelhouse. It is the purview and right of the colonized to write powerful and sweeping tales of overcoming colonialism, patriarchy, and religious bigotry.

Of course, it is hardly exclusively the duty of the colonized to do all the heavy lifting. Allies must share and uplift the voices of the persecuted, not subsume or claim their words as one’s own.

And naturally, it’s all a spectrum. And boy howdy did I hit the wrong end of the spectrum on my first draft of The Stormcallers.