Near Lord Brahmā, the arrangements for the grand sacrifice were set in motion. The priests, adorned in splendid garments and ornaments, were arrayed in their proper places by Vaiśravaṇa himself. The twice-born brāhmaṇas were resplendent, decorated with rings, bracelets, and crowns. In all, there were sixteen priests—four, then two, and ten others—each one shining in their sacred duty. Brahmā honored them all with deep reverence, instructing that every participant in the sacrifice must show these priests the utmost respect. Declaring, “This Sāvitrī is my wife; you, O twice-born, are my refuge,” Brahmā summoned Viśvakarman, and the ritual shaving of his head was performed as prescribed. The best among the twice-born carried out every rite with precision, and the brāhmaṇas prepared linen garments for both Brahmā and Sāvitrī. As the Vedic hymns were recited, the voices of the brāhmaṇas filled the heavens with their sacred sound. The kṣatriyas, bearing arms, stood guard, protecting the world during this momentous ceremony. The vaiśyas busied themselves preparing a rich variety of foods—dishes abundant and flavorful—while Prajāpati, witnessing marvels never before seen or heard, was filled with joy. In recognition, the mighty creator bestowed the name Prāgvāṭa upon the vaiśyas. The śūdras, too, had their part: they served the twice-born, washing their feet, offering food, and cleaning up afterwards. In this way, the śūdras fulfilled their role, and the Grandsire addressed them, “For the sake of service, I have assigned you to the fourth station. Service must be rendered by you and others like you to the twice-born, to kṣatriya kin and relatives.” Thus Brahmā established the order of society. Brahmā then appointed the divine guardians: Indra as the doorkeeper; Varuṇa, the bestower of waters; Kubera, the giver of wealth; and Vāyu, the bringer of fragrance. Sūrya was set as the illuminator, Mādhava held authority, and Soma, the lord of the sacred soma, was stationed to the left along their path. The noble Sāvitrī, Brahmā’s honored wife, was then summoned by the officiating priest: “Come, O goddess, with haste.” The sacred fires were kindled for the initiation, but Sāvitrī, absorbed in her own preparations and delayed by her womanly nature, did not appear on time. She lamented, “I have not decorated the door, nor made any intricate designs on the wall or auspicious marks in the courtyard. I have not washed any of the vessels, and even Lakṣmī, the wife of Nārāyaṇa, has not yet arrived. Swāhā, Agni’s wife; Dhumrorṇā, Yama’s; Vāruṇī, Varuṇa’s; Gaurī, Vāyu’s; and Suprabhā are here. Riddhi, Kubera’s wife; Gaurī, beloved of Śiva; along with Medhā, Śraddhā, Vibhūti, Anasūyā, Dhṛti, and Kṣamā are also present. Yet Gaṅgā and Sarasvatī have not come, nor the maidens; Indrāṇī, Chandra’s wife, and Rohiṇī, beloved of the Moon, are also absent. Arundhatī, wife of Vasiṣṭha, and the wives of the seven sages, Anasūyā, wife of Atri, and other women are here, but many brides, daughters, friends, and sisters have not yet arrived. I have been waiting a long time.” Resolute, she said, “I will not go alone until all these women have arrived. Tell Brahmā and wait a moment. I will come quickly, surrounded by all of them and in full splendor. You will attain the highest, and so will I—without doubt.” With these words, the officiating priest left Brahmā and returned. Sāvitrī, distressed and absorbed in her household tasks, insisted, “Until my friends arrive, I cannot come.” Thus informed, the time was passing, and the priest said to Brahmā, “Do as you see fit today, O Grandfather.” Hearing this, Brahmā, with some anger, commanded, “Bring another wife here quickly for me, O Indra. Just as a sacrifice cannot proceed without the proper time, so must you act swiftly and bring some woman. Until the sacrifice is complete, let your mind not dwell on her; after the rite is finished, I will release her again.” Thus instructed, Indra traversed the whole earth, searching, but found that all the women he saw were already joined to others. At last, he beheld an Abhīra maiden of exquisite beauty, with a fine nose and lovely eyes. She was unique—neither goddess, nor gandharvī, nor asurī, nor serpent-woman. There was no one like her, a woman so splendid she seemed another goddess of fortune herself. Her grace concentrated all the world’s beauty, as if every exceptional charm had gathered in her form. She was the best among slender-waisted women, and Indra thought, “If only she were a maiden!” He marveled, “No other god on earth, apart from me, could have earned such merit; this jewel among women is for the blessed ancestor. If she is passionate, then my efforts will bear fruit.” Her complexion shone like a blue cloud, a golden lotus, and coral. Her limbs radiated light, her hair, cheeks, and lips were as lovely as a budding flower on the tree of love and longing. Her heart was scorched by desire, her eyes emitted fiery glances, and Indra wondered, “How did the Creator fashion her, having seen no equal? If she was created by his own skill, then truly the path of artistry is supreme.” As he gazed upon her, delight filled his heart at the sight of her beauty.