Deprived of their kingdom and fortune, the two noble souls turned away from worldly pursuits and embraced the life of ascetics, dedicating themselves with devotion to the lotus feet of the Divine. In the fullness of time, however, these very two, graced with prosperity, would rise again to become foremost among kings, their destiny transformed by the blessings they received. After these matters were spoken, the great being, accompanied by Mahālakṣmī herself, withdrew into the inner chambers. Shiva, intent upon his own path of ascetic discipline, departed swiftly from that place. Nārāyaṇa then declared: each received the boon they had so ardently desired. By the grace of Mahālakṣmī, those two were established as rulers over the earth. Kuśadhvaja’s wife was Mālāvatī, a virtuous goddess in her own right. Because of her deep connection with the earth, she became endowed with profound knowledge. At the moment of her birth, she made the sacred sounds of the Vedas resound clearly, and from the birthing chamber, she rose, her presence already radiant with wisdom. Remarkably, the child uttered the Vedic sounds as soon as she was born. Immediately after her birth and ritual bathing, she departed for the forest to undertake ascetic practice. There, at Puṣkara, she performed severe austerities for an entire manvantara, yet she remained nourished, untouched by emaciation, her youthful beauty undiminished. In another birth, it was foretold, her husband would be none other than Hari himself. Upon hearing this prophecy, she was filled with anger and resolved to practice even greater austerities. For a long time, she dwelt in the universe, continuing her ascetic discipline. One day, a visitor arrived. She welcomed him with hospitality, offering water for washing his feet. After receiving her offerings, this most sinful one lingered nearby. Upon seeing her—an excellent woman, her beauty radiant and her form graceful—he was overcome by desire and fell into a swoon, tormented by the arrows of longing. The virtuous woman, perceiving his intent, cast an angry glance upon him, rendering him motionless. In his mind, he began to praise the goddess Padma, the lotus-eyed. Yet she pronounced a curse: “For my sake, you shall perish along with your kin.” Having spoken, she entered into deep yogic meditation and abandoned her body. In the aftermath, the visitor lamented, “Ah! What wondrous thing have I seen, and what have I done now?” In due course, that virtuous woman was born again as the daughter of Janaka. Endowed with great ascetic power from her previous birth, she continued her worship and austerities, honoring the Lord of the universe. She remembered her past lives, recalling the sequence of her previous penances. With steadfast virtue, she performed many kinds of austerities over a long period. Her consort was equally virtuous—delightful, peaceful, and possessed of unsurpassed beauty. For the sake of obeying his father’s command, this best of the Raghu dynasty remained ever truthful. He dwelt near the ocean, accompanied by Sita and Lakshmana. When Rama was overcome with distress, Lakshmana too was filled with sorrow. At that time, Agni, the god of fire, spoke: “The time has come for Sita’s abduction. Truly, fate is difficult to resist, and there is no power greater than destiny. But do not despair—I will restore Sita to you at the time of the trial.” Hearing these words, Rama kept them to himself and did not reveal them to Lakshmana. By the power of fire, Sita was transformed into a Maya-Sita, an illusory form. Thereafter, the abductor departed with Sita, instructing her not to speak openly. Meanwhile, Rama’s eyes fell upon a golden deer, and the events set in motion by destiny began to unfold.