After a tense confrontation, the sage advised King Yudhajit to visit the eminent ascetic and offer comfort to him, the very embodiment of austerity. He suggested that Sudarshana, the young prince, could remain in the hermitage as he wished. The sage reminded the king that Sudarshana was but a destitute child, weak and helpless, and posed no threat. The king’s hostility toward such a vulnerable boy was pointless. The sage spoke of compassion, urging that it should be shown everywhere, for all beings are subject to fate. Envy, he said, is futile; what is destined will surely come to pass. He illustrated the power of destiny: sometimes, fate renders a thunderbolt as harmless as straw, and at other times, straw can strike with the force of a thunderbolt. Even a hare may slay a tiger, and a mosquito may bring down an elephant—such is the strange play of destiny. He advised the king to abandon reckless actions and heed his words for his own benefit. Vyasa narrates that, hearing these wise words, King Yudhajit bowed respectfully to the sage and returned to his city. Meanwhile, Manorama remained in the hermitage, caring for her son Sudarshana, who observed strict vows. Day by day, Sudarshana grew in stature. He played among the children of sages, fearless and auspicious in all ways. On one occasion, a cat approached, and the sage’s son called it 'impotent.' Sudarshana, hearing this, clearly pronounced the word with its nasal sound and repeated it again and again. At that moment, he mentally grasped the seed-mantra known as Kāmarāja, reciting it with great devotion and holding it in his mind. By the workings of destiny, the wondrous Kāmarāja mantra was naturally received by Sudarshana in this way. In his fifth year, he obtained the supreme mantra, which lacked the meter of the seers and was received without meditation or ritual gestures. He recited the mantra silently every day, whether playing or sleeping, never forgetting it, and knowing its essence himself. When Sudarshana reached his eleventh year, the sage initiated him and instructed him in the Vedas. He studied the Dhanurveda and its branches, the science of polity, and all the arts, empowered by the strength of the mantra. Once, Sudarshana beheld with his own eyes the form of the Goddess—clothed in red, her complexion red, adorned with red ornaments on every limb. She was seated upon Garuda, manifesting as the wondrous Vaishnavi Shakti. The prince was filled with joy upon seeing her gracious face. Dwelling in the forest, Sudarshana became learned in all the truths of knowledge. He served the Mother and sported on the riverbank. There, Ambika bestowed upon him a bow, arrows tipped with iron, a quiver, and armor. At that time, Supriya, the daughter of the king of Kashi, named Shashikala, divine and endowed with all auspicious marks, heard of Sudarshana—the prince dwelling in the forest, handsome, heroic, and possessing all marks, like another god of love. Hearing tales from the bards about the well-endowed prince, Shashikala desired in her heart to choose him as her husband. One night, in a dream, Jagadamba appeared to her, comforting her and saying, “Choose your boon, O lovely-hipped one! Sudarshana, my devotee, will grant you all desires, by my word, O beautiful lady.” Shashikala saw the enchanting form of the Mother in her dream and, remembering her words, rejoiced greatly. Rising, filled with joy, she was questioned by her mother repeatedly, but out of shyness, she did not reveal the cause of her happiness. She laughed, delighted, recalling her dream again and again, and finally confided in another friend, describing the events of her dream in detail. Once, for amusement, Shashikala went to a beautiful grove adorned with champaka flowers, accompanied by her friends, her eyes wide and lovely. While gathering flowers beneath a champaka tree, she saw a Brahmin hastening along the path. Bowing to the twice-born, Shyama spoke sweetly, asking from which land he had come. The Brahmin replied, “O girl, I have come from the āśrama of Bhāradvāja. It has happened for some purpose; why do you ask? Tell me.” Shashikala asked if there was anything remarkable in that āśrama, something extraordinary and worthy of being seen. The Brahmin answered, “There dwells Sudarshana, the illustrious son of Dhruvasandhi, O lovely-hipped one. He is a supreme man, his name truly matching his nature. My eyes seem fruitless, O slender-thighed one, for Sudarshana has not seen you. All virtues have been placed together by the Creator, wishing to fashion him. I think, out of curiosity, to see the very mine of virtues. That prince is worthy to be your husband; this union is fitting, like that of a jewel and gold.” Vyasa continues: Hearing these words, Shyama was filled with love. The Brahmin, having spoken thus, departed from that place with a focused mind. But Shashikala, due to her previous affection, was deeply immersed in love, restless as if struck by the arrows of Kāma, when the Brahmin had gone. Tormented by love, she confided to her trusted friend, saying, “A change has arisen in my body as a result of hearing about him.