O King, it was foretold that from the place where your wife, she of the beautiful brows, resides, she would be brought back to you, and in her heart would arise the highest affection for you. Hearing these words, the king gathered all the necessary items, and the best among the brāhmaṇas performed the required rite. Not once, but seven times, that brāhmaṇa repeated the sacred ritual for the king, intent on restoring the union between husband and wife. When the great sage perceived that a bond of friendship and affection had blossomed in the queen toward her husband, the brāhmaṇa turned to the king and said, “O best of men, bring here the one whom the rite has drawn to you. Enjoy happiness with her and, together, perform sacrifices with devotion.” Astonished by these words, the king remembered the mighty and truthful night-wanderer who had aided him before. At that very moment, upon being remembered, the night-wanderer appeared before the king, bowed to the great sage, and humbly asked, “What shall I do?” The king explained everything in detail. The night-wanderer then descended into the underworld, found the queen, and brought her back to the king. Filled with deep affection, she saw her husband and, overjoyed, repeatedly implored him, “Be gracious to me.” The king, embracing his proud and beloved wife, comforted her, saying, “Beloved, I am already pleased. Why do you ask this again?” The queen replied, “O king, if your mind truly holds favor for me, then I ask you for this one thing—please grant me what I deserve.” The king assured her, “Speak without hesitation whatever you desire. There is nothing unattainable for you, O gentle one! I am at your disposal in every way.” With gentle resolve, the queen said, “For my sake, my friend was cursed by the serpent’s daughter and became mute. If you are able, out of affection for me, to remedy her condition and restore her speech, will you not do this for me?” Wishing to fulfill her request, the king turned to the brāhmaṇa and asked, “What should be done to remove her muteness?” The learned brāhmaṇa replied, “O king, at your command I shall perform a Sarasvati sacrifice. Let your wife be freed from her debt, and let her friend’s speech be restored.” With utmost concentration, the brāhmaṇa performed the Sarasvati sacrifice and recited the hymns dedicated to the goddess of speech. At that very moment, Garga, now able to speak, exclaimed in the underworld, “This great and difficult favor has been done for my friend by her husband!” Having regained her speech, Nanda quickly returned to the city. There, she embraced the queen, her friend, and the serpent maiden rejoiced. Again and again, she praised the king with auspicious words, took her seat, and spoke sweetly, “O hero, the favor you have done for me has won my heart. Listen now to what I say.” She continued, “Your son, O king, will be of great prowess; his wheel of sovereignty will remain unconquered upon this earth. He will be wise, knowing the essence of all sciences, devoted to the practice of dharma. O intelligent one, he will be the lord of the manvantara—he will indeed be Manu.” Having bestowed this boon, the serpent king’s daughter embraced her friend and returned to the underworld. Meanwhile, the lord of the earth, the king, rejoiced with his beloved queen, and many years passed as he protected his subjects with care. Then, a son was born to that great king, as radiant and complete as the full moon shining on the night of purnima. At his birth, all the people rejoiced; divine drums resounded in the heavens, and showers of flowers fell from above. Seeing the child’s handsome form, his auspicious future, and noble character, the assembled sages named him Uttama. Born in such an excellent lineage, at that auspicious time, with splendid features, he became known as Uttama. Markandeya continued: The son of Uttama, renowned by the same name, became a Manu. O Bhāguri, listen to the greatness of this Manu from me. Whoever always listens to the entire story and birth of Uttama shall never fall into enmity. For one who listens or recites this tale, there shall never be separation from beloved wives, sons, or relatives. O brāhmaṇa, now listen as I recount the manvantara of Uttama. Hear who was Indra at that time, and who were the gods and sages. Now, let me tell you of another ancient lineage. Martanda, son of Rasi and the daughter of Visvakarman, had a wife named Sanjna. In her, Bhanu was born. Manu, renowned and accomplished in all branches of knowledge, was the son of Vivasvat; therefore, he is called Vaivasvata. Once, when Sanjna, seen by the radiant Sun, closed her eyes, the Sun, angered, spoke harshly to her: “Because you always restrain your eyes when you see me, O foolish one, you will give birth to Yama, the restrainer of beings.” Markandeya said: The goddess, fearful, then cast a restless glance; seeing her eyes unsteady, the Sun spoke again, “Because your gaze is now unsteady when you look at me, you will give birth to a daughter, a river named Vilola.” Thus, by her husband’s words, Yama and this Yamuna, the great and famous river, were born to Sanjna.