And so the rainbow shines down.
Hundreds of families from the simple town of Roloc gather in heaps, their multicolored hair reflecting the light from the majestic, holy phenomenon that is the rainbow.
Each color steps up to the shining stage, one at a time. The Reds. Then the Oranges. Then the impatient Yellow group.
The rainbow keeps casting its light.
Green goes next. A pair of them could be seen arguing in the distance, with others nervously watching all the other colors slink up to the platform's edge.
Blue makes its grand entrance with style. They always had dramatic entrances like these.
Purple was last but not least. Only a few of them remained in town.
No mayor was present. No president, no council, no leader, no nothing. Anyone who is an expert on Rolocian culture should know that everyone follows their own rules, and they have been disciplined enough to do just that.
For hours the once-new generation stood, their colorful hair swaying in the soft breeze of the cloudy morning. The Wednesday air was particularly light today; normally during the birthing ceremony the winds were at least a couple miles an hour. But, on this particular day, it felt like nothing. Almost as if it were transparent.
The rainbow shines down.
All the Reds look at each other and nod. It was time.
One by one, each Red clan member raised their hand up to the red streak in the brilliant rainbow. Each one of their hands slowly caught fire, as it was the clan's gift. The fire looped around the sky for a moment, like a playful bird flying in circles to see its surroundings. Suddenly, the fire formed a small infant in each blaze- boys and girls- and carried them down into the arms of the one who had made them.
Each clan member was formed by magic and the power of nature. They had no biological parents, but rather magical ones, who do not rely on marriage and pregnancy, but rather seek the aid of the siblings they were born to raise their divinely born offspring.
Sibling companionship. The most important value of Roloc.
The rainbow shines still so brightly.
The Orange clan went next, but this time, a ray of light escaped their hands and brought down babies from the stars and skies above. For the Yellows, the process was the quickest; the wind blew harder than if it were any other clan and lightning struck down from the skies to instantly form a small infant with a tiny bush of yellow or golden hair. This always gave everyone else a jump-scare.
The rainbow shines brighter with each passing moment.
Greens had their children born from the surrounding nature; vines were woven together to create a temporary ball which would later bestow an infant- a part of a new generation of Greens. Interestingly enough, members of the Green clan tended to obsess over their new children the most. Minus a few exceptions, of course.
Then, Blue was up next. Their children came from the raging waves of the Crystal-Clear Ocean nearby and, one by one, waves arrived bearing babies in the center of their torrent.
And then there was Purple.
The rainbow still shines.
Purple clan members were always the most overshadowed. They were prominent members of the Dark Arts and many young Purples even turned to the side of the Underworld, the greatest enemy of Roloc, destined to take the clans' color away.
A Purple Clan member flinches in pain.
Gray clouds briefly shadow the rainbow, but the rays of light were visible again before too long.
He quickly grabs the baby to make sure he did not do anything out of the ordinary, but gasped when he saw what his dark embers had given him.
His Purple Clan baby was there, all happy and healthy, but something seemed off about the way she laid in his arms.
He moves her aside lightly and faints upon his discovery.
Another baby. And her hair was as white as the puffy clouds.
And so the rainbow shines down once more.
But not on Prism and her family.
The rainbow stops shining. There was nothing to be done now.