Taken Slaves

Tiny wings reflected silver moonlight as they suspended their masters body above a dark pool of oily water. These butterfly-like slaves belonged to a small being the size of a humans middle finger with blue hair that reached to its knees, cream colored eyes the size of a baby pea, and a slender stick-like body that flashed brown and green in the daytime light. Monpaley was this Fearie's name and she had never been so proud of the humming slaves attached to the back of her legs and on her vertebrae. Now she had a different perspective of what these wings could do and how they helped her to survive through the periless war that had been stretching on for over 2000 human years.
Monpaley was a young Fearie of only 400 years but she had seen more hurt and experienced more hardships then all of the Elders in the 4000 year old council combined. Monpaley was special and that is the reason both sides had gone through so many brick walls to get to her and her delicate but powerful strength. This time the Fearies had gone to far though. The Powlole had kidnapped her young mother and told Monpaley that if she did not give herself up to them then they would rip out her mother's wings and float them in the Oil Pools of Manchol so they would never be able to create the flying magic again. Monpaley had refused them and they had followed through with their threat. She had watched her mother turn to a soft white dust before her own eyes and had heard every anguished scream of desperation and pain escape the twig-like lips.
Monpaley watch her mothers wings as they sailed through the shiny water and scrambled through her brain for a plan. A plan to take what was taken. To back her mother's slaves.1

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Monapley's careful and soundless footsteps left small indents in the smooth earth beneath her feet. The indents were ruined though, soon after being created, by more footfalls and even more indents from the feet of other frightful Fearies that wanted to take back the slaves that so many had lost in the war.
The large rebel group stalked through the night until they reached a small hideout of oak leaves and rose stems. Each one of the followers striped down from their bright green or orange tunics and slid into a blackish-brown tunic made from a foreign cloth that one of them had found in a human's laundry basket.
Some of Monpaley's fellow Fearies wore looks of fright others had on expressions of anger but all had a shine in their eyes that said they would fight till the end to avenge all those who had been lost.
The Fearies headed out once again at dusk and after hours of tireless journey that consisted of walking, flying, and once or twice swimming to cool themselves off, they reached their destination. It was a circle of bright red mushrooms to humans but to the Fearies it was a menacing military base that held shelter to over half the Powloles army and 500 POWs of the Kalcole people. Each deserved the fate that was to befall on them in just a few hours time.
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Once the rebels were positioned at every corner and lock in site around the base camp, Monpaley threw up a handful of sparkling white powder, the reminisce of her mother, into the air and waited for the other rebel generals to do the same. After all eight sparkling handfuls of dust flew through the air there was a distinct call of a Water Nymph and then the wingbeats of 800 slaves dragging their masters through the air and into enemy territory.
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Though the rebels had a great loss the ohthers in the battle suffered much more greatly. None of the Kalcole people were spared their slaves and 2000 purple wings, all belonging to the Powlole, were now floating in the Oil Pools of Mancol.
Though Monpaley did not survive the taking of her own slaves just shortly after the battle but she had already influenced many of the Fearie people to rebel with her and just two human years after her death the Law of Canpaley, named after Monpaley's dear mother, was enforced throughout the land by the Elders of the council and banned the stripping of a Fearie's slaves and proposed the outcome of the war would go to neither side but to the rebels who stood for what they knew was wrong and took back what was taken.