The mother, filled with love and wisdom, spoke to her child with deep conviction: “The destiny of those devoted to their mothers will surely be mine.” She offered another path as well, saying, “Or else, remain here; let your vows be mine.” Her heart ached at the thought of separation, for she confessed, “Life is not dear to me when separated from my mother.” In her eyes, there was no protector like a mother, nor any path equal to following her example. She reflected on the nature of life and death, understanding that the passing of beings is not unlike any other death. With gentle authority, she addressed her son: “O son, this is the final and highest message from your mother. Always dwell in the forest, my child, intent on vigilance. And never, out of greed, should one seize even a blade of grass in a dangerous place.” She warned that greed can lead people into perilous places—be it the ocean, the wilderness, or the field of battle. She taught that three things afflict a person: greed, carelessness, and misplaced trust. Therefore, she urged, “One must always protect oneself with great effort. While roaming the forest, always beware of animals and those born in evil wombs.” Offering comfort, she said, “Hear our reply, which destroys sorrow; just as one who rests returns, so too is the meeting of beings.” In time, all beings are reunited, just as those who had gathered there came to see their mother and the circle of friends. But grief was heavy in the mother’s heart. Afflicted by sorrow for her son, she cried, “My little son Phenapa is helpless, weak, and miserable. This son is destined for the future, and especially so now. He wanders in dangerous places, he wanders in another’s herd. Forgive me, O noble ones; I will go, relying on truth.” Hearing her words, all the women present were filled with sorrow and pleaded, “You must not go to Kapila; you will not incur any fault.” At that moment, a verse sung by sages who speak of dharma was recalled. Kapila then declared, “I do not use even the slightest falsehood for my own sake, ever. A thousand horse sacrifices and truth, when weighed on a scale, are not equal. Therefore, I will not speak falsehood for the sake of preserving my life.” This steadfastness was praised: “That you abandon your life, so difficult to give up, for the sake of supreme truth—certainly, death will never come to you because of truth, under any circumstance.” When Kapila was seen, eyes widened in astonishment, for nothing inauspicious ever occurs to those devoted to truth. It was acknowledged, “You have spoken before, Kapila, with oaths and for the sake of the vow. Therefore, go—freed by me—to where your son is.” At that very moment, Pulastya narrated, the king returned to his natural state. With a joyful heart, he spoke to Kapila, the truth-speaker: “What favor shall I do for you today, O cow? Speak quickly.” She replied, “Thirst troubles me; therefore, bring water at once.” Kapila affirmed, “Know that I do not speak falsehood; what I have said is true.” With resolve, the king set an arrow to his bow, took aim, and struck the earth. At once, pure, cool, and auspicious water sprang forth. In that sacred instant, Dharma himself appeared there and, pleased by the king’s truthfulness, declared, “I say: there is none equal to you anywhere. By your radiance, you shall attain a divine realm, free from old age and death.