There were those among the sages who remained unwavering in their austerity, undertaking the most difficult vows. At the forefront of their discipline stood celibacy, for which they sought the highest state. It was well known among the wise that a Brahmin’s true Brahminhood was founded upon celibacy; such was the declaration of those who understood its essence, even in the world beyond. In celibacy abided truth, and in celibacy abided austerity; those Brahmins who steadfastly upheld it were said to dwell in heaven. Without the practice of yoga, there could be no attainment, and without attainment, no fame. Indeed, in this world, there was no root of fame greater than celibacy, nor any austerity superior to it. He who restrained the senses and the five elements, and established himself in celibacy, practiced the highest form of austerity. Yet, mere outward signs—wearing matted hair without true union, performing vows without resolve, and conduct lacking celibacy—were regarded as hypocrisy. Where, then, were wives, union, or confusion of feelings? Was not the mental progeny created by Brahma through his mind alone? Those who truly knew themselves and possessed the power of austerity were urged to create mental sons, following the act of Prajapati. The womb created by the mind was to be established by ascetics; for those released by vows, there was neither union nor seed. But then, a challenge was raised: what had been declared, fearlessly and abandoning righteousness and purpose, seemed, though spoken by the good, as if uttered by the wicked. In response, a sage resolved: “Having made this body, with a blazing inner self, of the substance of mind, I shall create a son sprung from my own body, without union. Thus, my own self will beget a second self by this wild method, as if wishing to burn up the creatures.” Possessed by austerity, the sage placed his thigh in the sacred fire. With a single blade of grass, he churned his thigh as the fire-stick for the birth of a son. Suddenly, piercing his thigh, a flame-wreathed, fuel-less son was born—Agni—desiring to burn the world. Splitting open Urvaśī’s thigh, the fierce fire called Aurva, the ender, was born, as if wishing to burn the three worlds. Immediately upon birth, Aurva spoke to his father in a voice weakened by hunger: “Father, hunger torments me; release me to consume the world.” Expanding with flames reaching the heavens, blazing in all ten directions, burning all beings, this fierce fire grew. Meanwhile, Brahmā, honoring the sage Aurva, spoke: “Restrain your son and show compassion to the world. For this child of yours, O sage, I shall provide an excellent abode. This is the truth, O son, best of speakers, listen to my words.” The sage replied, “Blessed and favored am I, since today the Lord grants this understanding for my child, truly for the highest grace.” Brahmā continued, “When the desired time comes at dawn, O Lord, your son, satisfied by the offerings of the Pitṛs, will attain happiness.” The sage asked, “Where will his dwelling be, and what will his food be? The Lord will arrange for this mighty one, equal in energy.” Brahmā replied, “His dwelling will be at the mouth of the submarine fire in the ocean; O sage, my womb is water, and happiness will come to him who drinks it. Where I constantly drank water as an offering, that offering I now bestow for your son, and that will be his abode. Then, at the end of the age, O son, I and this fire together will roam, removing the debts of those without offspring. This fire, consuming water, was made by me for the end of time—a burner of all beings, including gods, asuras, and rākṣasas.” “So be it,” said Agni, his flames encircling him, and, casting his radiance upon his father, he entered the mouth of the ocean. Then Brahma and all the great sages, perceiving the radiance of Aurva’s fire, each returned to their own abode. Witnessing this wondrous event, Hiranyakashipu, bowing with his whole body, spoke aloud: “Blessed one, this marvel has occurred before the eyes of the world; by your austerity, O best of sages, even the Grandsire is satisfied. As for me, know that I am the servant of your son and of you, O great-vowed one, if this can be accomplished by action here. See me now, wholly devoted to your worship; if I should fail, O best of sages, let the defeat be mine alone. I am blessed, I am favored, for you, my teacher, stand before me; by this austerity, O virtuous one, I have no fear today. Take up this very illusion, created by my son—fire-formed, without fuel, unconquerable even by flames. This will serve to subdue or restrain your own lineage; it will protect your allies and consume your enemies.” Saying, “So be it,” the sage took that power, bowed to the foremost sage, and, his purpose accomplished, the lord of the Daityas joyfully went to heaven. This illusion, hard to withstand even for the gods, was created long ago by Aurva, son of Urva, from fire. But when that Daitya was overthrown, this power became ineffective—there is no doubt; for a curse had been placed upon it by the very one who created it. If this is to be checked, and the Blessed One is to be made happy, let me be given as a companion Soma, Indra, Varuna, and the Moon. With them, and surrounded by the Yadus, I will destroy this illusion by your favor—of this there is no doubt.