Akir and the Lady Jeanne: Part 1

(I'm not usually a writer, but I decided I'd try to write a story just to see if I still could after noticing that my creativity has been glitchy at best and difficult to focus lately. Here's the portion of story I wrote today; let me know what you think.)

 When Akir began work on the statue, nobody at the monastery found it particularly peculiar. The subject of his work, a local noblewoman by the name of Jeanna Runewind, was an unmistakeably beautiful woman, and it was her wish that a statue of pure pink marble be crafted to capture her perfect beauty forever. It is said that Akir worked countless hours of day and night perfecting its smooth curves, polishing and painting and clothing and wigging it as though it were a doll of stone. The Lady Jeanna was indeed pleased with Akir's handiwork, and paid him twice what she had promised; but Akir had spent so long on every intimate detail that he wanted a more physical reward.

 The Lady rebuffed the artisan's advances, for she was a proper lady and he, however skilled, a lowly commoner. Akir was enraged - he who had captured every detail of her beauty now saw this beauty leaving him forever. He masked his rage under a disarming smile, and agreed to deliver the statue on the next evening. Once the Lady had departed, however, the madness that hid behind Akir's eyes began to work its will on his thoughts. How dare she spurn him, him who had carved every detail into cold stone and committed every inch into memory? He, who knew more about her than any mere suitor?

 It is said that Akir then was visited by a dark spirit, who whispered to him what he must do - the statue still needed eyes, and the dark one provided two emeralds, as bright and beautiful as the Lady's own, and told Akir that if he used these in the statue, she would turn on her suitors and return to Akir's side. The maddened monk, driven beyond reason by love and desire, complied with the spirit's request, and the next day presented his finished work to the Lady, who ordered her attendants to place it in the hall of her mansion for all to see and admire. And Akir waited.

 Three days passed, and in that time, the Lady Jeanne was visited by her three suitors, each of whom marveled over the statue's transcendent beauty, and remarked on how perfectly the craftsman had captured the Lady's essence. The Lady Jeanne was proud of having such a fine statue, and thought little else of it; it was everything she could hope for. Even her servants admired the wonderful statue.

 Then, one night, a maid noticed that the statue was gone. Sneaking to the kitchen for a late snack, she realized that the now familiar shape in the darkness was no longer where it had been. The Lady Jeanne had specific orders against being disturbed while she was sleeping, though, and the maid decided that perhaps the statue had merely been moved, and resolved to ask her mistress about the statue's disappearance in the morning. She returned to her bedchambers, and thought nothing more of it until the next morning.

 When Akir awoke the next morning, it was to a terrible noise and cry. The Lord Crenshaw, one of Lady Jeanne's suitors, had been found dead at the side of the road just outside of town, his throat and chest slashed open as if by the claws of a fearsome beast. The constables assured the townsfolk that a wild animal must have set upon the good Lord Crenshaw, and vowed to hunt down the monster. Akir rejoiced, for this misfortune meant one less competitor for his Lady's affections - the spirit had spoken true.

-- To be continued... --