From every direction, majestic mountains arrived, each bearing elephants upon their slopes. These mountains approached Ishana with reverence, bowing low before him, and Ishana, seeing their devotion, became filled with joy. Guided by Nandi, their pathfinder, the entire assembly made their way to the grand city ruled by the king of the mountains. Leaving aside their own affairs, all present became wholly absorbed in witnessing the great event that was about to unfold. Among the gathering, one woman, her hair neatly braided, advanced directly toward Shankara. Another, who wore no red dye upon her hands and feet, came to behold Hara. Yet another, clutching a stick of collyrium, hurried swiftly to the scene. One woman, seemingly overtaken by madness, arrived naked, her heart yearning to see Hara. A slender-waisted maiden, vexed by her own youthful beauty, reproached herself in anger. Amidst this assembly, Shiva himself mounted his bull and proceeded to the divine abode of his father-in-law. Truly, the severe penance performed by Ambika had borne its proper fruit, for Shambhu, the great god, was now hers. This was he who had destroyed Daksha’s sacrifice, who removed Daksha himself, who took away Bhaga’s eyes, who bore the trident and wielded the mighty bow Pinaka. Again and again, salutations were offered to him—adorned with great serpent earrings, beloved of Parvati. With hearts full of joy, Vishnu and his elder brother led the bride to the auspicious wedding altar, which glowed with the brilliance of the sacred fire. The mountains themselves grew restless, while the gods, busy with worship and other sacred rites, were agitated like eager friends awaiting a maiden’s wedding. When her brother Sunabha arranged the festival, the bride was brought near to Shankara. Even the gods, along with Kushangi, gazed upon this place, renowned and honored throughout the world. For sport, the mountain’s daughter joyfully scattered pearl necklaces, and then, with continuous handfuls of vermilion, she and her companions made the earth glow a deep red. Shiva approached the southern altar, steadfast and attended by sages. Taking the purifying water, he offered the shining madhuparka. The lord of mountains, seated at ease, looked upon the seven great sages and spoke words that established his own righteousness: “May you accept this granddaughter, offered by me, even on behalf of the ancestors.” He proclaimed loudly, “O blessed one, I give her—accept this!” And with a plea, he added, “I am without support, dwelling on the mountain peaks; accept my daughter, O king of mountains.” When Shambhu and Parvati touched, she attained supreme joy, O sage among the gods. After the offering of white rice grains and husked barley, Brahma addressed the mountain’s daughter: “With steady and equal gaze, perform the circumambulation of the fire, just as the earth, scorched by the sun’s rays, receives the rain.” Out of modesty, Parvati replied softly to Brahma, “I have looked.” Oblations of parched grain and other sacrificial offerings were cast into the fire. Then Hara spoke: “What do you ask for? I shall grant it. Release her.” He promised, “You will obtain prosperity for your own lineage, and thereafter you will attain liberation. Hear from me what prosperity for her own lineage is—listen, I will tell you. Indeed, this prosperity has been given to her, belonging to our own lineage. Mālinī, adorned with virtuous conduct, belongs to her own lineage.” At that moment, Shiva beheld the face of Kālī, whose radiance surpassed even that of the moon. His seed fell upon the sand, and he became greatly afraid. From that sacred act, the blessed Vālakhilya sages were born—eighty-four thousand in number, renowned as the Vālakhilyas, O Pitāmaha.