H.S. Chaman

@hschaman.bsky.social

81 Followers 61 Following

✨ Adult Fantasy Writer | she/they 🏳️‍🌈 Queer, BIPOC rep | #SouthAsian #WOC 📚 #DVPit Oct 2025 | Writing legacy, grief & rebellion

The temple doors opened, and the air hit us – cool, dry, high. Ahead, the long staircase spiraled up the mountain to the Torchspire. Wind rustled the prayer cloths overhead, making them whisper against the stone, but no one spoke. The procession began. Not even the youngest child wailed. The congregation lined the path in silence, some bowing their heads, others pressing fingertips to their brows or chests in reverence. One by one, they faded behind us as we ascended. The only sound was the wind. Step by step we climbed. The stone beneath us was worn smooth from centuries of footsteps, a polished path of grief and faith. Gold ash drifted behind us in the air like a soft trail of light. I felt the strain in my arms. I felt the sting in my chest. But I didn’t make a sound. None of us did.
Image: korean city scape at night with pink cherry blossoms Text: Sexualize your life
Adesina Mahdi, Fadilah’s mother, had spent the better part of her career clashing with their matriarch: Laithah Niazi. Despite their political battles, they were, in some ways, two sides of the same coin. Conviction met conviction. Fire met fire. But it was a respectful rivalry – at least on the surface. Waliyah Laithah Niazi, a dignified provincial governor, had lost her father to war. A Samake warrior, she understood sacrifice – and, perhaps, even empathized with Chancellor Mahdi. The Samake and Zuberi – the house of Fadilah’s maternal grandfather – had once been one house before a bitter split. Their rivalry lived on in both bloodlines – in the Chancellor and the Waliyah. Every time the two most powerful women in our Empire interacted, blood met blood and wits clashed.
Collage: (top row, left to right) red clouds, skeletons burning in red fire, gold embroidery on red fabric, red letter with gold seal stamp, red interior of a cathedral, painting of a young woman blindfolded and bleeding, (middle row, left to right) man screaming, red stained glass, red cloaked figures ascending a staircase covered in blood, a lit match producing red smoke, (bottom row, left to right, red strings, red desert with gray sky, "at least being an instrument means being held.", red eye, "you made your choice, do you regret it yet?", woman veiled in red Text: "Daughter of Sky and Sorrow", "H.S. Chaman"
Collage: (top row, left to right) bookshelf in misty greenhouse, angel of death statue, woman kneeling statue, hand outstretched with green fire, (middle row, left to right) excerpt reading "'I won't keep you long.' 'You can keep me as long as you want.'" , cloaked man walking in dilapidated church, middle eastern woman wearing dark green, green book with gold details on a desk, (bottom row, left to right) gold mirror on forest floor, a lightly sparkled hand reaching out to a hand painted black and heavily sparkled, a work station with medicinal herbs. Text: "Daughter of Sky and Sorrow" "H.S. Chaman"
Series of images in a collage over a black background (from top row, left to right): lightning strike, brown woman wearing bangles while touching a pond with lily pads; (middle row, left to right) silver leaves, blue Himalayan poppy, brown woman wearing blue and gold traditional clothing, black spider lily (i think), image of excerpt reading "You want battle? I'll give you war."; (bottom row, left to right) black calla lilies, funeral pyre at night, South Asian architecture, abandoned battlefield Text: Daughter of Sky and Sorrow, H.S. Chaman