In ancient times, when illness and unseen forces threatened the wellbeing of a person, the wise invoked the sacred powers to restore health and wholeness. They recognized that disease could arise from mysterious sources: perhaps from milk, curds, undercooked food, grain, or even from the flesh itself. Sometimes, flesh-eating demons would consume a person’s vitality, lurking in food or water, in drink, or even while one lay in bed. These spirits could strike by day or night, stealing health and peace. So, the wise called upon the demons to depart, taking their offspring and kin with them, so that the afflicted might be free from disease. To protect the person, they invoked Agni, the devourer of flesh, asking him to destroy the blood-drinking demon, the mind-stealer. They called upon Indra, the mighty champion, to strike these demons with his thunderbolt, and upon Soma, the bold, to cut off their heads. Agni, who from ancient times destroyed sorcerers, was asked to burn up the flesh-eaters and their roots, ensuring that no divine weapon would fail in this task. The wise entreated Jātavedas, the fire, to gather together whatever had been taken or carried away from the person, so that their limbs might grow and swell like the sacred shoots of Soma. They prayed for the afflicted to become pure and live, free from disease, swelling with health as the Soma plant does. Offerings were made to Agni for the binding of demons, asking him to accept them and take them up. With his flames, Agni was asked to accept these offerings, so that those who sought to seize the flesh would abandon their form as flesh-eaters. But sometimes, the danger was greater—a person’s breath threatened to leave, their spirit drawn toward the realm of the ancestors. So the wise called out, “Return, return from afar, from a distance; remain here, do not go, do not follow the forefathers. I bind your breath firmly for you.” They spoke words of release and freedom, undoing any spell cast by another, whether friend or stranger. They absolved any wrongs the person had committed, knowingly or unknowingly, to man or woman, and released them from any harm done by mother or father, or by kin and brother. Remedies were offered, making the person free from old age. The wise called the person back with their whole mind, urging them not to go to Yama’s messenger, but to return to the abode of the living. They encouraged the wise one to rise up, to step forth and journey among the living, uncalled, by the path of ascent. “Do not fear, you will not die,” they said, “I make you free from old age.” Disease and limb-fever were spoken away from the person’s limbs, so that the breaking of the limbs, the limb-fever, and heart-illness would fly away like a hawk, far beyond. The seers, awake and those who awaken others, whether in sleep or wakefulness, were invoked as guardians of the breath, watching by day and night. Sitting near the sacred fire, the wise prayed that the sun would rise for the afflicted, lifting them from the deep darkness of death and the blackness of confusion. Homage was paid to Yama, to Death, to the ancestors, and to those who guide. Agni, who knows the crossing over, was placed before them for safety. They called for breath, mind, sight, and strength to return, for the body to unite together and stand firm. With breath and sight, Agni was asked to join the person together, to revive them with body and strength, ensuring that they would not become a dweller in the earth. The wise prayed that the breath would not depart, nor the downward breath be taken away, and that the Sun, lord over death, would raise the person up with his rays. With sacred speech, disease was spoken away—a hundred growths and fevers pressed down and removed. The world, unconquered and most dear to the gods, was remembered as the place where each person was destined; so the wise called the person back, urging them not to perish before old age. They addressed any spell cast in uncooked food, mixed grain, or raw meat, any witchcraft performed, and took it back again. If spells were made using a rooster, a goat, a cur, or a lifeless thing, they reclaimed them. Any harmful acts performed among animals, at the wheel, with the donkey, at the root, at the yoke, or in ploughing, in the field, at the household fire, at the eastern fire, or with evil intent in the hall—they took them back. Harm done in the assembly, in the place of the gods, with dice, in the army, with bow and arrow, with the drum, in a well, in a cremation ground, or in the house—all were reclaimed. Any harm done at the threshold, in fire, or in the pit, any burning, consuming, or devouring act was undone. Whatever was taken by unlawful means was driven away, and guilt reclaimed from the weak and boundary-crossers. If someone tried but failed to harm, injured the foot or toe, the wise acknowledged that the shareless one had done good for those who possess a share. They called upon Indra to strike down with great destruction those who performed harmful acts, binding them with fetters, rooting them, and placing them under oath. Agni was invoked to pierce them with his weapon. Finally, as evening approached, the wise sang the evening song, the great song, bringing forth radiance. Atharvan was called to praise the god Savitar, the youthful son within the river, the embodiment of truth whose speech never deceives and who is most gracious. Thus, through invocation, prayer, and sacred offerings, the wise sought to restore health, undo harm, and return the afflicted to the realm of the living, honoring the gods and the guardians who watch over all.