Śyāmā, with deep respect, approached the twice-born Brahmin and offered her salutations. In sweet and gentle tones, she inquired, “O highly fortunate one, from which land have you come?” The Brahmin replied, “O maiden, I have come from the āśrama of Bhāradvāja. My arrival here serves a certain purpose—why do you ask? Tell me your reason.” Śaśikalā, curious and eager, asked, “O blessed one, is there anything remarkable in that āśrama? Is there something truly extraordinary and worthy of seeing there?” The Brahmin answered, “In that āśrama dwells Sudarśana, the illustrious son of Dhruvasandhi, O graceful one. He is a supreme man, and his name perfectly reflects his nature. Yet, I feel his eyes are fruitless, O slender-thighed maiden, since Prince Sudarśana has never seen you. When the Creator wished to fashion him, all virtues were gathered together out of curiosity, so as to see the very mine of virtues. That prince alone is worthy to be your husband; this union would be as fitting as the joining of a precious jewel and gold.” Hearing these words, Śyāmā’s heart blossomed with love. The Brahmin, having spoken thus, departed with a steady mind. But Śyāmā, already harboring affection for Sudarśana, became deeply absorbed in love, restless as if struck by the arrows of Kāma, the god of desire, after the Brahmin had gone. Tormented by longing, she confided in her dearest friend, “A change has come over my body just from hearing about him. This prince, noble by birth, whose tastes and knowledge are unknown to me—wicked Love torments me for his sake. What am I to do? Where shall I go? Whether I have seen him in dreams or not, he appears to me as another god of love; my mind, tender and distressed by separation, burns with longing. O beautiful one, sandal paste on my body feels like poison, garlands seem like snakes, and moonbeams scorch me like fire. Nowhere—neither in the palace nor in the forest, by the pool or on the mountain, by day or by night—do I find peace, nor does any comfort soothe me. Neither the bed, nor betel, nor song, nor music pleases my mind today; my eyes find no satisfaction. “Today I will go to the forest where that enchanting one dwells. Yet I am afraid of bringing shame upon my family and am still subject to my father’s will. If my father does not arrange a svayaṃvara today, what am I to do? I will give myself to Prince Sudarśana, as my heart desires. There are other kings on earth, hundreds, all possessing great wealth, but they do not please me today—he alone, though without a kingdom, is esteemed by me.” Meanwhile, Sudarśana, alone, poor, and weak, living in the forest and sustaining himself on fruits, held Śyāmā firmly in his heart. By reciting the seed-mantra of speech, he attained success; this too came to him. He devoted himself fully to meditation and chanted the supreme mantra. In a dream, he beheld the Goddess—Vishnumaya, the indivisible, the Mother of the Universe, the unmanifest Ambika who bestows all prosperity. Soon after, the chief of the Nishadas from the city of Sringavera approached Sudarśana and presented him with a splendid chariot, fully equipped and adorned with excellent banners. Recognizing him as the prince, the Nishada chief offered this as a gift of honor. Sudarśana joyfully accepted, regarding him as a true friend, and in return honored Shambara, the Nishada chief, with wild roots and fruits. When the Nishada chief, having been received as a guest, departed, the ascetics, filled with affection for Sudarśana, spoke among themselves: “Prince, you will certainly obtain the kingdom very soon; be free from anxiety and confident in your prowess—there is no doubt about this. Ambika, the Goddess, is pleased with you, O steadfast one, and grants boons, enchanting the world. Your ally is well-endowed; do not worry.” The ascetics, steadfast in their vows, also spoke to Manorama, Sudarśana’s mother: “Today your son, O bright-smiling one, will become lord of the earth.” Manorama, slender-limbed and humble, replied, “May your words bear good fruit. I am your servant, O Brahmins—what wonders can come from true devotion? There is no army, no ministers, no treasury, nor any allies—by what means can my son be worthy to obtain the kingdom here? Yet surely, by your blessings, my son will become king—there is no doubt. You are all most learned in mantras.” Vyāsa continued: Mounted on the chariot, the wise Sudarśana shone with splendor wherever he went, appearing as if surrounded by an entire army division. O King, there is no power like that of the mantra-seed; with complete devotion, he chanted, and thus it was. Whoever, pure and peaceful, recites the wondrous Kamaraja seed received from a true teacher attains all desires. There is nothing on earth or in heaven that is unattainable for one who has the favor of Shiva and the Goddess, O best of kings. But those who lack faith in the worship of the Mother are dull, extremely unfortunate, and afflicted by disease. She who, from the beginning of the ages, is proclaimed as the Mother of all the gods, is renowned as the Primal Mother, O best of the Kurus. Intelligence, fame, fortitude, prosperity, power, faith, discernment, and memory—all these shine forth manifestly in living beings as her own forms. Those men who are deluded by her Māyā do not truly know her, and, being attached to false reasoning, do not worship the Divine Lady, the Ruler of the Universe, the Auspicious One. Even Brahmā, Viṣṇu, Śambhu, the Vasus, Varuṇa, Yama, Vāyu, Agni, Kubera, Tvaṣṭṛ, Pūṣan, the Aśvins, and Bhaga—each and every one—are subject to her power.