In ancient times, when the forces of light and darkness contended in the world, the seekers of well-being turned their prayers to the great luminaries and powers that preside over all creation. They called first upon the radiant Sun, saying, “O Sun, with your brilliant light, overpower and render powerless the radiance of those who harbor hatred for us, or whom we, in turn, must oppose.” Thus, they sought protection from enmity through the Sun’s overwhelming splendor. Next, their invocation turned to the serene Moon. “O Moon,” they prayed, “with your subtle heat, strike with fever and discomfort those who hate us, or whom we hate. With your power to seize, seize our adversaries. With your hidden flame, burn against them, and with your burning, let their strength be consumed. Finally, with your gentle radiance, render powerless the radiance of those who seek our harm.” In this way, they called upon the Moon’s many aspects—its heat, its seizing power, its flame, its burning, and its radiance—to shield them from hostility. Their prayers then flowed to the Waters, the life-givers and purifiers. “O Waters, with your heat, strike with fever those who hate us, or whom we hate. With your power to seize, seize them. With your flame, burn against them, and with your burning, consume them. And with your shining radiance, let the strength of our enemies be rendered powerless.” Thus, the Waters too were invoked for their protective and purifying force. But there were more subtle dangers—sorceries and unseen weapons sent forth by those who wish harm. To these, the supplicants addressed the spirits and forces known as Śerabhaka and Śerabha, Śevṛdhaka and Śevṛdha, Mroka and Anumroka, the Serpent and Anusarpa, Jūrṇi, Upabde, and Arjuni. To each they entreated, “Let your goings return, let the weapon of the sorcerer return to its sender. Consume him in whom you dwell, whom your sender sent forth—let him be consumed by his own flesh.” And to Bharūji, they prayed, “Let the returning ones come back to you; let the hostile and evil weapons return. Take him whose you are, whom you have struck; take your own flesh, but do not take mine.” Thus, they sought to turn back the weapons of harm and ensure that evil would not find its mark among the innocent. Seeking well-being, they called upon the goddess Pṛśniparṇī: “May you bring us health, free from misfortune and distress. Fierce is the spell of the Kaṇvas—do not consume the powerful one.” They remembered her as the first-born, produced together with strength, and with her power, they declared, “With you I cut off the head of those with evil names, as one would a bird’s head.” They urged her to destroy the hostile one, the one who brings blood and swelling, to uproot the evil Kaṇva even from the womb, and to burn after those who bring harm, like fire cast upon the mountains. “Drive them away,” they pleaded, “push out the Kaṇvas who have come near to life; let them be banished to the darkness, where the flesh-eater dwells.” Turning to the welfare of their herds and households, they prayed, “Let the cattle that have wandered return; may the wind, their companion, be pleased. Tvaṣṭṛ knows their forms and marks, and may Savitṛ gather them into this pen. Let the cattle stream together, guided by Bṛhaspati and Sinīvālī, and let Anumati hold back those who have arrived. May cattle, horses, and people all come together, and may the abundance of grain be gathered with our offerings. I pour together the milk of cows and the essence of grain, that our heroes may be firm and our cows steadfast under my protection. I bring the milk and the grain’s essence; our heroes are here, and the wife stands at the head of the household.” Against the threat of poison and harmful morsels, they invoked the power of a sacred herb. “The enemy does not win the morsel; you are victorious and enduring. O herb, let the counter-morsel destroy the harmful morsel and remove its juices. The eagle found you, the boar dug you up for us. Indra made you for the arms to overcome the Asuras and himself ate the pāṭā plant for victory. With you, I strike down enemies as Indra did the Sālāvrikā demons. O Rudra, healer with water, blue-crested, doer of deeds—let the counter-morsel destroy the harmful one and remove its juices. Destroy the morsel of him who attacks us, not Indra. Speak to us with your powers, O morsel, and make us superior.” Finally, they prayed for the preservation of life and the gentle coming of old age. “May only old age grow for you; let this disease afflict others, for they are death-bringers, a hundred in number. Let a friend protect from harm as a mother her child, not an enemy. Let Mitra, Varuṇa, and the Rishadā gods, united, create old age and death for him who seeks our harm. Agni, the priest and knower of all rites, distinguishes the origins of all the gods. You, O gods, rule over all creatures—those born and those who create. Let my breath remain, let not my vital air depart; may friends not slay me, nor foes. Heaven is your father, earth your mother; let them, united, create old age and death. As one lives in Aditi’s lap, protected by breath and vital air, so may he live a hundred winters.” Thus, with reverence and hope, the seekers invoked the powers of Sun, Moon, Waters, gods, herbs, and the earth itself, weaving a tapestry of protection, prosperity, and long life for themselves and their people.