For the witches hidden within the folds of light and their own identical creations. The one’s with transparent fingertips and luminescent curls that leave rainbows in their wake. They reflect and refract; their magic the only thing less tangible than they are. For those that are hypnotic in their creations, entrancing in the way only never ending patterns. For the ones capable of extracting color from the whitest of light. For the prismatic witch.

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