By Nadim Nyker
The spirit of the fire illuminated the area; it burned blue and red and crackled every third second. Prahlada edged forward. The flames evoked an enchantment, allowing his vulnerability to fade. He was accompanied by his aunt, Holika, but he chose the burning flames over her as a source of comfort. He sat and made friends with the continuous crackles. Holika tried to embrace him, moving closer to the boy. Holika had persuaded him to come this far and she was in no mood to be disloyal to her earlier intentions. She tugged at her cloak; tonight was the night of revenge, where Prahlada would pay for going against his father’s beliefs.
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