My time is coming- A Westbury Novel

I bide my time

I was born in a time which you could never even fathom. I am beautiful and graceful. From the murky depths of the earth I was expelled and on this weary planet I remain. Over the centuries I have been called many things. Goddess, sprite, devil, and now faery. The Westbury Faery.

I was once a Goddess. Mortals would create shrines to me and pray to me for a show of kindness. If it so suited my mood I would grant them their wish. More often than not I wouldn't. They were my children, I had to teach them that life is hard. They were fun, but as with any play thing, it can be very easy to grow bored with them. And so the Egyptian empire fell. And so the Roman empire fell. So I moved onto another toy. 

I was once a sprite. The Vikings called me a water sprite. I was fascinated by water and creating waves. Often they would come, leading a ram to be sacrificed, chanting. It was a show, I would splash some water and they would all be amazed. I caused a great wave once by accident. I didn't mean to, I just so loved how they adored me. It was a shame and so I moved away, onward to the end of the world.

I was once a devil. From the icy barren lands of the north I settled in on an island called England. It was pokey and boring. I had flown across deserts, commanded fleets of ships headed for Cleopatra's land, and had had festivals in my name. But now people changed their opinion towards me. I was suddenly abandoned, left to be a child's myth. Now if I took food from a family it was no longer a blessing, but the work of evil forces. And so I sat and cried and felt lonely and abandoned and unloved.

Finally, I am a faery. I left England for a more lonely and battered land. Ireland. The ancient myths remained alive in the small wind battered communities. If I mysteriously cured a dying child, food would be left for me again. I was loved and wanted again, and I so wanted to reveal myself to these caring people. I did so once, to a man called Phillip Larkin who I loved. So desperate for his attention, so certain I was that he would love me should he give me a chance, I killed his wife. One more life, surely it didn't mean so much? It didn't, did it? His rage and hatred festered and he received counsel from a priest who taught him how to bind me in this vessel.

And so I wait. And so I bide my time. The grandfather and his granddaughter will open the vessel out of curiosity. Then I will cease to be the Westbury Faery. 

Then I will be Vengeance.