Hear now the sacred tale woven from the Atharva Veda’s verses, a tapestry of prayer, protection, and power. In days of old, seekers called upon Varana, the mighty, to subdue their rivals as the wind fells trees, laying them low. They prayed, “Let those who threaten me, whether born before or after, be subdued; protect me, Varana.” Further, they entreated Varana to cut off those who, before fate or life itself, sought harm among cattle or desired the kingdom, asking for his shield against all who would bring misfortune. Turning their hearts toward prosperity, they invoked the Varana jewel, wishing that as the sun shines forth and radiance dwells within, so too might this jewel grant fame and fortune, never depriving them of brilliance, but uniting them with glory. They invoked the jewel again, desiring fame as it exists in moon, sun, and among men, and as it flourishes on earth and in the kindled fire. They sought its blessing in the maiden’s beauty and the well-equipped chariot’s prestige, in the Soma-pressing and honey-offering, in the sacred Agnihotra and the Vaṣaṭ-call, and in the sacrificer and the sacrifice itself. They even called upon the fame of Prajapati and the supreme lord, seeking always that the Varana jewel grant them prosperity and unite them with glory. Finally, they prayed that as immortality and truth are established among the gods, so might the jewel of protection endow them with brilliance and renown. The story then shifts to the realm of chariots and serpents. The first chariot belongs to Indra, the second to the gods, the third to Varuṇa; the lowest is the serpents’, and the stationary one to Aradatha. Darbha grass is the flame; trees, horse’s hair, and rough coverings form the chariot’s bindings. A fierce battle is waged against serpents: “Strike down the white-footed one, both former and latter; let the venom leap up like a bolt, yet be destroyed like wood.” The noiseless one rises and sinks, speaking again, but its poison, fierce as a bolt, is to be destroyed. The Paidva strikes the black, white, and grey serpents, splits the head of the chariot’s yoke, and destroys venomous foes. Paidva, the first-born, leads the way, scattering serpents from the path, and his domain is marked by the footprints of the horse, the destroyer of serpents and possessor of strength. In the fields, two serpents, male and female, both venomous, lie in wait. The scorpion, the serpent, and the staff-bearing one are struck with a club. Remedies are sought for evil serpents, both native and foreign; Indra makes them powerless, Paidva renders them harmless. Paidva is honored, steadfast in his abode, while venomous destroyers sit shining behind. Their life-force and poison are lost, slain by Indra, who wields the bolt; Indra has struck them, and so have the faithful. The venomous and long-living serpents are slain, the destroyers are crushed; the black is struck with a ladle, the white with darbha grass. On mountain slopes, the Kirāta maiden and her companions dig remedies with golden spades. The young healer, spotted and unconquered, comes to paralyze both native and foreign serpents, as well as scorpions. Indra, Mitra, Varuṇa, Wind, and Parjanya all make the serpent powerless. Indra strikes down the serpent and destroyer—the native, venomous, black, ten-fanged ones. Indra struck the first great begetter; among those thirsting, he discerned who had the essence and who lacked the sap. He seized their heads together like a cluster of berries and, crossing the river’s middle, expelled the serpent’s poison. The rivers themselves are called upon to carry away the poison of all serpents—the slain, the defeated, the crushed, the scattered. Among the plants, the best is chosen, as one selects fertile fields; as a skilled driver leads the horse, so let the poison depart. Whatever poison dwells in fire, sun, earth, or plants—let the poison called kāndā and kanaknaka depart. All serpents born from fire, plants, waters, lightning, and those great and manifold, are honored with reverence. Taudī and Ghṛtācī are invoked, their steps set below as destroyers of poison. From limb to limb, the poison is driven out, removed from the heart, and its downward force is sent away. The poison flees, going far eastward; Agni burns it up, Soma carries it away, and it follows the fang into immortality. Finally, the seeker turns to the strength of Indra, invoking his might, power, and heroism. For victory and union, they yoke themselves with the unions of prayer, sovereignty, and Indra himself, seeking triumph and unity through divine strength. Thus, through prayers, invocations, and the power of the gods, the seeker is protected, granted fame, and united with glory, while venom and evil are driven far away, and divine might is yoked for victory.