In a time of great peril, when the shadow of death loomed over one beloved, the wise invoked the powers of the cosmos for protection and healing. They spoke gently over the afflicted, entreating the fierce deities Bhava and Śarva: “Do not seize him, but release him; let him remain among his people. Show mercy, remove misfortune, and grant him a long life.” Turning to Death itself, they pleaded, “Speak words of mercy, O Death—let him rise, unharmed in every limb, hearing well, full of vigor, and may he live a hundred years, enjoying life with his own self.” They called upon the weapons of the gods to turn away, declaring, “I carry you beyond the dust, even beyond death. I set far away the devourer of flesh, the fire-eater, for the sake of your life, and place a protective band around you.” They acknowledged the dread path of Death, impassable and shrouded in dust, and, to shield the afflicted from it, fashioned an armor of sacred utterance. With these words, they established within him the breaths of life and expiration, old age, death, long life, and well-being. All messengers of Yama, sent by Vaivasvata, were driven away as they roamed. Hostility, destruction, the seizer, the flesh-eater, the ghouls, and all evil beings were cast far away, struck down as if into darkness. From Agni, knower of all births, they sought the breath of immortality and long life, desiring that, like the immortal who endures with companions, this one too would not perish, but prosper. They invoked blessings from Heaven and Earth, wishing them to be auspicious, free from distress and full of splendor. They prayed for the Sun to shine favorably, for the wind to blow well for the heart, and for the divine, milk-giving waters to flow auspiciously around him. They asked that all healing plants, from the lower to the upper earth, be favorable, and that the Sun and Moon, the two Adityas, protect him. Whatever garment he wore, whatever cloth adorned his body, they consecrated it to be harmless and auspicious. Even when his hair and beard were trimmed with a sharp razor, they wished for beauty to shine upon his face, and prayed that no harm would come from such acts. They called for rice and barley, strong and full of vigor, to be auspicious for him, for these grains drive away disease and release from harm. Whatever he ate or drank—grain, milk, or any food—they sanctified it, making all nourishment free from poison. Day and night, they encircled him with protection, shielding him from enemies and those who hungered for harm. They assigned to him a long span of life—hundreds, thousands of years, even two, three, four ages—seeking the consent of Indra, Agni, and all the gods for this blessing, hoping it would go unopposed. Each season—autumn, winter, spring, summer—they wrapped him in their safeguarding, praying for pleasant years filled with thriving plants. Recognizing that Death is lord of all creatures, of bipeds and quadrupeds alike, they lifted him up from under the herdsman’s shadow, urging him not to fear. They assured him: “You will not die, you will not die; do not be afraid. There, where this sacred act is performed, none die nor descend to the lowest darkness. All indeed live there—the white, the horse, the man, the beast—where the band for the sake of life is placed.” They prayed for protection from peers, from sorcery, from those with kin, beseeching undying, immortal life, and that his vital breaths remain steadfast within his body. Let all the hundred forms of death, all obstacles, pass him by; may the gods release him from them, and from the fire of Vaiśvānara. They addressed Agni, recognizing him as the powerful body, the destroyer of demons and enemies, the dispeller of disease, and called him Pūtu-dru, the remedy. They approached Agni, the swift, demon-slaying friend, established for protection, kindled with offerings, and asked him to guard day and night from harm. They invoked Jātavedas, Agni’s all-knowing form, to touch the sorcerers with a fangless flame, to seize evil spirits with his tongue, to devour the flesh-eaters and cast them into the rainless region. They asked Agni to open his fierce jaws above and below, to move through the sky with roaring might, and to strike down the sorcerers. Agni was called upon to break the skin of the sorcerer with his fierce flame, to cut apart their limbs and scatter the flesh-eater. Wherever the sorcerer might stand, move, or even fly in the sky, they urged Agni to strike him down with his weapon. With sacrifices as arrows, words as darts, and stones as missiles, Agni was asked to pierce the hearts of the sorcerers and break the arms of those who opposed him. Jātavedas was called to drive away those who had arisen and those yet to rise, to destroy the shining ones, and to let the devourers devour the devourers. They implored Agni to reveal who among them strove with evil intent, to seize the sorcerer with flame and blind him to the sight of men. Agni, with sharp sight, was asked to protect the sacrifice, guide it forward for good, and, with his fierce radiance, destroy the demons, ensuring no harm from the sorcerers. The seer was asked to look among the people, to identify and sever the demon’s foremost limbs, to cut the backs of the sorcerer and sever his root in three parts. For the sorcerer who approached the sacred path thrice, harming with falsehood, Jātavedas was to bind him with flame before those who praised him. Any curse uttered, any words of rebellion, any arrow of anger or mind, Agni was asked to turn back upon the sorcerers, piercing their hearts. He was to drive away sorcerers, demons, evil spirits, and greedy shining ones with heat, strength, and flame. They prayed that the gods would drive away the wicked, that curses would return to their source, that words and arrows would strike the sorcerer’s vital parts, forcing him from all paths. Whoever stained themselves with flesh of man, horse, or cattle, or brought the milk of the cow with ill intent, Agni was to cut off their heads with his strength. Let the sorcerers carry away their poison, let the wicked be cut off for Aditi, and let the god Savitṛ remove them, so that the share of the healing herbs might remain pure. The yearly milk of the tawny cow was to be protected from the flesh-eating fiend, the man-seer, and Agni was to strike any gluttonous one at his vital spot with returning flame. Ever vigilant, Agni was called upon to destroy the fiends, for in battles, the demons have never overcome him. He was asked to burn up the flesh-eaters together with their followers, ensuring that the divine weapon would not miss its mark. Thus, through sacred words, invocations, and the power of Agni and all the gods, the wise sought to shield the afflicted, to drive away death, disease, and evil, and to secure long, flourishing life under the watchful protection of the divine.