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Literature
Necromancer: Exile Pitch - WIP
When Aderyn Dovan's family is assassinated, the girl begins training to avenge their deaths and reclaim her kingdom under the protection of the Order of the Kinsguard. But the whispered return of an ancient evil may 
Aderyn and her guardian knight Rurik know that the dragon attack was no mere chance - her family was assassinated. Now, the whispered return of an old evil brings a warning: war is returning to the Three Hundred Kingdoms, and to defend those she loves Aderyn will have to harness the same rare magical gift that got her family killed.
Necromancer Exile: Chapter 1
Necromancer Exile: Chapter 2
Necromancer Exile: Chapter 3
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Literature
Woman God, Quiet Sun
i have become rounder
jiggling
broad buttocks
wide-set breasts
satisfying me 
selfish and sexual in a way that doesn't
whisper
of children
women gods dwell in
my solar plexus fire
my chill steady womb
clutch my breasts as theirs
inhabit my blood spread
my fingers
we spin together
how do i run my fingers through the hair of this
power
that is mine
how do i teach this
fire chant feather words searing breath
give you my ashen throat
swallow
without swallowing
to spit out all you who are in my care and keeping
my saliva
sanctifies
gives curse and charm
i move shadow and light together
empty of all separation and yet
separate
facing each other 
my self
moon blackened sun makes
more than two celestial objects
one quiet fire
shaman i claim
i call
witch seer spaekona
need not see only future but 
decked in rings and bangles
command:
Traveler, stand here.
Listen.
I speak.
Listen.
:iconAzizrianDaoXrak:AzizrianDaoXrak
:iconazizriandaoxrak:AzizrianDaoXrak 57 53
Literature
The Knight Who Was a Rabbit
Surana's father, Agni, held aloft a piece of paper crossed with neat folds and latticed with fluid script.
Ryn, looking to Surana herself for guidance, saw that her friend's shoulders had slumped.
"Papa..." she began wearily, but the man cut her off.
"I have in my possession all the clues to illuminate this mystery!" Agni declared with relish.
His wife Chanda heaved a sigh and moved forward to restrain her husband. "My dear, there is no mystery. Surana has chosen--."
An imperious hand silenced the woman. "Allow me to explain." With a flourish, Agni spread the letter on the kitchen table. Surana, with apologetic looks to her companions, motioned for the group to be seated. Ryn sank into a divan beside their friend Torei. His eyes were sharp, darting around the room with eager curiosity. Willam looked as confused as Ryn felt, but Rurik's confusion bordered on suspicion. Surana and her mother, meanwhile, went around the room closing doors and windows against the sharp ear
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Mature content
Myself against the grey, storming sea. :iconazizriandaoxrak:AzizrianDaoXrak 43 18
Literature
In Autumn I Have Opened My Wings
Ghostly and more elusive
than the spirits who come to me
seeking counsel:
confidence evades me.
I better understand the dead.
Cliffs still define me -
distance of air between me and rocky teeth -
still I love the fall,
long for its lover's arms.
***
In autumn I celebrate the coming
of death's season.
Glory in its wildfire whiteness,
its cold cleansing.
Winter Queen, come,
kill the self that was.
***
This is a prayer of strength to myself:
I rise with autumn sun,
rise to join my carrion-sisters
picking flesh from my body to find
buried earth-bone swords.
I rise ash-rich and blackened,
light enough now for the danger
of the breeze,
taking in electric breath
before the storm.
I am the wielder of the stone sword
       over the waves.
I am the crow-moon against the sun.
I am the lightning bearing stories
       between sky and ground.
***
Still my confidence rises,
sage ash on the breeze.
Still cliffs define me -
distance of air between me and
:iconAzizrianDaoXrak:AzizrianDaoXrak
:iconazizriandaoxrak:AzizrianDaoXrak 22 11
Teatime with Queen Azi and Lady Asabat by AzizrianDaoXrak Teatime with Queen Azi and Lady Asabat :iconazizriandaoxrak:AzizrianDaoXrak 2 2 Breathe by AzizrianDaoXrak Breathe :iconazizriandaoxrak:AzizrianDaoXrak 11 18
Literature
Three Hundred Kingdoms - Origins
    In the beginning, there was nothing. Only the Eight were, but even they were nothing, for they had not yet decided that they required form.
    For a long time, they remained this way. They had no names or aspects, but simply were.
    They first began to take names and shapes after an argument. Two of the Eight were closest to each other, so close that the others simply called them the Twins. They were never apart. They often fought, but always were reconciled after. The first loved intellectual duels, battles of wit and intellect, and he often won.
    But the second began to tire of such games. He suggested to the first that they take form, create limbs and faces and hearts, that they could grapple with each other and thus have physical battles. The first was intrigued, and unbeknownst to the others the Twins created bodies for themselves. Then they began to fight, and it soon became clear that the s
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Literature
Dear Baltimore Child: A Postmortem Ghazal
My dear Baltimore child,
dear tale-told heart, gin-joint king,
  Winter is colorless without you,
    all white and dead.
  I miss the boldness of your black,
    I miss the color red.
  I wear your favorite color, grieve,
    though we were never wed.
  My dark, distant poet,
    dreaming evermore in red.
  Annabel Lee should have been written
    for me, instead;
  She was white winter-stale,
    and I am bright summer-red.
  I watched winter take your soul,
    watched the frost in your lungs spread.
  You can be no lover now,
    drained of all your blood, your red.
 
  You are colored, still,
    blue and beautiful and dead.
  But I cannot warm your body with mine,
    cannot give to you my red.
  I have tried to wake you with kisses,
    tried to make us a wedding bed
  In your tomb in the city by the sea,
&
:iconAzizrianDaoXrak:AzizrianDaoXrak
:iconazizriandaoxrak:AzizrianDaoXrak 19 13
Literature
Birds and Sleeping
What silence do I want?
My heart is a bird,
feathers blackened with sage ash.
Fear—fear is a regular visitor, cold as mountain water.
I am the wrong side of the desert,
I should be wind-blown, scrubbed free…
stillness and absence—not devoid of everything, but clear.
Fear but life;
I am so many birds.
I can see life in so many colors but
make gods of twigs and cage fastenings.
I feel a thrill at the notion of just
opening up and spilling all this color out—
greeting the world like
my phoenix or thunderbird and ceasing to be
quiet.
I find in myself a hatred for all this that makes me not living.
But quiet—mistakes.
Sadness,
grey and catlike.
I am exhausted with the not-weight of sadness
that drapes itself over my shoulders.
I am at once a tree and a pillar of flame.
Flight and a stone sword.
I can sprout my own wings black as coal,
but have yet to learn to do more in my own form
than hover stagnant in the air.
Fear and duty.
What did I learn?
Why is fire a
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Reference - The Order of the Kinsguard Armor by AzizrianDaoXrak Reference - The Order of the Kinsguard Armor :iconazizriandaoxrak:AzizrianDaoXrak 2 0 Three Hundred Kingdoms - Basic Map by AzizrianDaoXrak Three Hundred Kingdoms - Basic Map :iconazizriandaoxrak:AzizrianDaoXrak 0 2 Lady of the Crows by AzizrianDaoXrak Lady of the Crows :iconazizriandaoxrak:AzizrianDaoXrak 15 9
Literature
Vengeance
The flock of crows circled overhead, waiting.
Gritting her teeth, a lone figure hefted her sword and took a few steps closer to the gaping hole in the mountainside.
“In the name of my father and mother, in the name of the thousands you have killed, I demand that you come forth to face me!” For a few moments she heard only the wind whistling in the rocks.
But as she took a deep breath to call out again, a deep rumble rose from the mountain—laughter. Then came the slow, ponderous echoes of great footfalls. She nearly gagged as a wave of sulfurous vapors reached her. Slinging her greatsword across her back, she hurriedly traced arcane symbols in the air with her fingers.
The wind died down and there was a brief moment of silence as the woman finished her ward—then a roar as a massive wave of flame flooded from the cave. Bracing against her warding, the woman tried to gasp as the air was ripped from her lungs. Despite the shielding spell, she could still feel some o
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Literature
Earth and Echoes, Fire and Frost
  A priori:
I do not know what it means
to feel afraid.
1. I am a ghost
walking the ridge of Devil’s Backbone,
bleary-eyed and brown,
underbrush and Virginia clay.
The day has been all dawn;
the sun is a pale yellow rumor
through winter trees.
2. I am Lurray Caverns
with flutes of stone echoing
songs in my hollow chest;
my heart is a rock in my belly.
At once I have learned the truth
of doubt and absolute certainty.
3. I am the Devil himself,
a fevered dancer—
my feet cannot cease moving
else the listless sadness
rises from my empty insides.
Sleepless phantom—
pacing the ground brown and dead.
  A posteriori:
I have found my fear again,
and its cold freezes the fires
in my chest.
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With Hands in the Shape of the Sea

Journal Entry: Sun Apr 8, 2018, 9:37 AM


Greetings, everyone! This is a little heads-up to talk about a new story I'm working on. I am writing a novella during Camp NaNoWriMo tentatively titled "With Hands in the Shape of the Sea," in which a Victorian spiritualist encounters Norse witchcraft and doesn't quite know what to do with herself!
This is a historical fantasy queer romance work-in-progress! I will be limiting deviantArt posts to excerpts, because I hope to publish the story at some point.
If you would like the full (terrible WIP) synopsis, check out the "Camp NaNo" link on the left!

~Excerpt~

    “Who has called me here?” the woman sighed, in a rasping voice so different from her own Jaquelyn checked for another speaker. The medium sat stiffly in her high-backed chair, eyes unfocused and unseeing.

    Mr. Nelsson, their unfortunate host, tried to look composed as he cowered away from the medium’s right hand, clasped in his own. But he took responsibility, clearing his through and steeling himself. “We have, my fine…um…person. To whom do we speak?”

    The medium inclined her head toward Nelsson and he shivered. “You have not answered me. I was called, and I have come, but a name is required as payment.” The last word rang out cold and ominous, and this time the whole room shivered with their host.

    Jacquelyn could not resist a sidelong glance at the woman who sat across the table. Something still lit up her face, a smile—joyful, but without innocence—lingered in the corners of her mouth.

    “T-Thomas Nelsson, at your service.”

    The medium righted her head and settled slightly into the chair. “Very well,” she rasped, “ask your questions.”

    “Ask—?”

    “You may ask nine questions, no more. Ask your questions and release me.”

    The room fell silent as all the guests exchanged glances.

    “What should we ask?” the woman to Jacquelyn’s right hissed with a furtive glance at the medium. The evening thus far had followed the usual script for seances—which was to say, the medium had proceeded each activity with careful instructions for her audience, to “prevent something terrible from happening.” The medium had explained that they would be communicating with a spirit, and they must maintain the circle of clasped hands. But she had said nothing about questions, which meant—.

    The medium expected this to go differently, Jacquelyn thought.



Journal History

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AzizrianDaoXrak's Profile Picture
AzizrianDaoXrak
Azi
Artist | Hobbyist | Literature
United States
*AzizrianDaoXrak's writing is both fantastical and familiar; it is often something you might expect to find in a legend, sweeping and worldly, yet drawing the focus down to the personal and immediate. I think one of the greatest things about *AzizrianDaoXrak's style is the amount of imagination put into each piece. Some of them feel as if they've been hand-crafted from dreams.

Solarune on behalf of theWrittenRevolution

Every time I read one of AzizrianDaoXrak's pieces I am floored anew. I've been following her work for years, so you'd think I would be used to her tendency towards the amazing, yet she never ceases to surprise me by continuing to improve. Her writing is masterful, lyrical, mythical and unforgettable. Her style is rich and unique, but she is always eager to challenge herself, the result of which is distinct, fresh, enthralling literature that never fails to linger in the reader's mind.

LadyofGaerdon


AzizrianDaoXrak's poetry floors me each time I read it. Her way of stringing together letters into words into images into stories is a punch in the gut and it never fails to evoke a response in her readers. She brings a fresh perspective to age-old questions, and she creates new worlds for her readers to explore. It is a joy and an adventure to experience her work.

travelgirlxx


:iconmv1plz::iconmv2plz::iconmv3plz::iconmv4plz::iconmv5plz::iconmv6plz::iconmv7plz::iconmv8plz:

I'm nearly who I'm meant to be.

Do not go gentle into that good night.
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.


Want to get to know me or my writing better? Check out interviews like this one or this one or read this journal

Curious about free verse?

I've been published!
Alliterati Issue 9
Alliterati Issue 10
Alliterati Issue 12

Current Residence: North Carolina, USA
Profession: student, PhD candidate, Duke University
Favorite visual artists: STelari, herooftheheadset, SaskiaDeKorte, kinachuku
Operating System: Windows 7
Personal Quote: Fate does as it will

Science Fiction by i-stamp StarGate gif by KukikoSesshou:iconohhmyplz:
Interests

Poetry Collections!

If you want some of my poetry for your bookshelf...

:iconblackdivider0redo::iconblackdivider2plz::iconblackdivider3plz::iconblackdivider4plz::iconblackdivider5plz:

I sell all of my poetry through Lulu.com.

You can buy my first book of poetry, Regina, Regina, as an eBook: www.lulu.com/shop/jes-malitori… or as a hard copy: www.lulu.com/shop/jes-malitori…

You can currently buy my most recent poetry collection, Dreams of Thunder here: www.lulu.com/shop/jessica-mali…
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:iconwindmeister8:
WindMeister8 Featured By Owner Apr 8, 2018
thank you for the fav~ :glomp: I really appreciate it! :D

please do check out my other works (poetry, prose, stories) if you're interested! XD
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:iconlokidalton:
LokiDalton Featured By Owner Nov 26, 2017  Hobbyist General Artist
Danke for the favourite, really appreciate it
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:icongblxviii:
GBLXVIII Featured By Owner Sep 24, 2017
Thank you for the star!
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:iconlifeinjesus:
LifeinJesus Featured By Owner Jul 20, 2017
Jesus is the truth, the way and the life. No one comes to the Father except by Him.

We can be adopted to God through Jesus as sons and daughters. :) so thankful. He gave all those who believe in Jesus the right to be the children of God.
Reply
:iconazizriandaoxrak:
AzizrianDaoXrak Featured By Owner Jul 20, 2017  Hobbyist Writer
Thank you for your concern for my salvation :) I am very happy in my own religion, but I wish you the best in yours!
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:iconlifeinjesus:
LifeinJesus Featured By Owner Jul 20, 2017
I just desire that you would know the true God who created you and loves you and wants to be a Father to you.
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:iconrieile:
RiEile Featured By Owner Jun 22, 2017
Thank you for the watch and the fav!
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Valencrux Featured By Owner Feb 17, 2017   Digital Artist
Thanks for the fav!
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:iconnickalive:
nickalive Featured By Owner Apr 19, 2016  Professional General Artist
grato pelo fav
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chriseastmids Featured By Owner Apr 17, 2016  Hobbyist Photographer
thank you for the fave ad :D
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