Silver
The color of illumination and reflection
She stared into the mist and held the world in her grasp. Magic coursed through her, racing through her heart and painting her bones.
Nimueh wasn't supposed to be out here-all initiates were required to stay in their chambers after night fall-but there was something about the night sky that called to her, begging her to step outside.
Now she walked around the Isle, her dress flowing out behind her, and basked in the power radiating all around her. The moon shone down on her, heightening her senses and making her skin glow.
The soon to be priestess took one long look at the moon and then she began to chant, her eyes flashing gold.
Around her the mist swirled together before shooting up into the sky. It was an intricate dance, and Nimueh was the choreographer. Suddenly she raised her hand and the mist floated up until it sat beneath the moon before it swirled once more and became the perfect likeness of a castle. A smile brightened her features.
The moon was power and, in that moment, Nimueh was the moon.