Once, a man found himself caught in the grip of the dice. He remembered a time when he had resolved not to quarrel or compete with others, yet, as his friends moved on, he fell behind, left alone in his longing. The brown dice, cast upon the ground, seemed to speak their own words, calling to him with a voice he could not resist—he went to their gathering as eagerly as a wife might seek her lover. Entering the assembly, he would ask, trembling, “Will I win this time?” But the dice cared little for his hopes. They ran counter to his desires, placing the winnings before another, leaving him empty-handed. With their unseen hooks and sharp goads, the dice tormented and inflamed his heart. Deceitful and burning, they scorched him with their laughter, mocking him like playful boys taunting the defeated. Covered in honey, they exalted the gambler, only to betray him. There were fifty-three of them, this band of dice, playing true to their own law, as steadfast as Savitar the god. Even the fierce would not bow to the gambler’s fate, yet even a king found himself paying homage to these fickle cubes. They moved below and leapt above, handless yet overcoming the one with hands. Though cold and cast upon dry ground, these divine dice burned in the heart with a pain more searing than fire. At home, the gambler’s wife was left distressed and abandoned. His mother, seeing her son wander, asked in sorrow, “Where is he?” In debt, fearful, and desperate for wealth, the gambler crept to others by night, seeking what he had lost. When he saw a woman, desire inflamed him further; he coveted another’s wife and longed for the fortune of others. Each morning, he would yoke his tawny horses, chasing hope anew, but by the end of the game, he was cast out, fallen before the fire. To the leader among the dice, the first of the band, the man spoke: “I do not claim your wealth, nor do I demand it. For ten days, I have spoken this truth, facing the rising sun.” He pleaded with himself and with others: “Do not play with dice. Instead, cultivate the field, delight in honest wealth, and count yourself fortunate. There, among your cattle and beside your wife, lies true happiness, as Savitar, the noble, has shown me.” He prayed for friendship and grace, begging the dice not to approach with fierce intent. “Let not anger nor enmity enter you,” he pleaded, “and let the pursuit of the dice be far from us.” With this resolve, the man turned his thoughts to the dawn and the gods. At the break of day, the Agnis, strong with Indra’s power, bore light across the land. Heaven and Earth, vast and aware, heard the people’s prayers as they sought the favor of the gods. They turned to Heaven and Earth, to the motherly rivers, the mountains, and the sheltering places, seeking favor and blamelessness from Sun and Dawn. “May Soma, pressed today, bring us good,” they prayed. Heaven and Earth, the great mothers, were invoked for protection and prosperity. As Dawn arose, she was called to drive away evil, while Agni was kindled for the welfare of all. The first, splendid dawn shone forth, rich in gifts for the generous, and the people prayed to keep the wrath of the malicious far away. Those who streamed forth with the rays of the sun, bearing light at dawn, were asked to shine for the glory of the people. The Dawns were called to move free from sickness, and the fires to rise with great light. The Ashvins were invoked to harness their chariot for long life, and Agni was kindled for welfare. “Grant us today, O Savitar, the best and most excellent share, for you are the giver of treasures,” they prayed. Dhiṣaṇā, mother of wealth, was called upon, and Agni was invoked for well-being. “May the true utterance of the gods, which we mortals have neglected, not harm us,” they pleaded. As all the Dawns shone forth and the Sun rose, Agni was kindled for their welfare. Sacred grass was spread without enmity, and in the assembly of stones, the people strove with their minds, seeking the protection of the Ādityas. The gods were invited to the sacred grass in assembly, and the seven priests were seated. Indra, Mitra, Varuṇa, and Bhaga were invoked for aid, with Agni kindled for welfare. The Ādityas were called to come for all the people’s needs, to protect their sacrifice together. Bṛhaspati, Pūṣan, the Ashvins, and Bhaga were invoked, and Agni was kindled for welfare. The gods were asked to grant eloquent speech, protective shelter, abundant and noble gifts, cattle, offspring, and life. All the Maruts, all the supports, all the kindled fires, and all the gods were summoned to bring wealth and strength. The people prayed that those protected by the gods in contests of strength, those whom the gods guarded and delivered from distress, would know no fear among enemies. They wished to be swift for the favor of the gods. With reverence, the people invoked Uṣas and Night, lofty and beautiful, along with Heaven and Earth, Varuṇa, Mitra, Aryaman, Indra, the Maruts, the mountains, the waters, and the Ādityas. They prayed for protection from harm and injury, asking that misfortune and ill-will not rule over them. Aditi, mother of Mitra and Varuṇa, rich in gifts, was invoked for protection from all harm, so that the people might attain the radiant, sinless light. The stone was called upon to drive away demons, evil dreams, and all misfortune, granting the shelter of the Ādityas and the Maruts. Indra was invited to sit upon the sacred grass, Iḻā to nourish, and Bṛhaspati to chant with the Sāma hymns, so that wise thought would be held for life. The Aśvins were asked to make the sacrifice touch the sky, to make it long-lived and gracious for the people’s desires. May the offering, drawn eastward and poured with ghee, bring the favor of the gods. The kindly Marut host was called for friendship and happiness, so that the people might hold wealth and fame. The vast, life-giving waters, divine and gracious, were brought forth, the glory of sacrifice, with prayers to obtain Soma, radiant and strong. Guided by the best guide, the people wished to live with living sons, free from sin, hoping that those who hated the sacred word and all hostile ones would be defeated. The people called upon the gods, worthy of sacrifice, to hear their desires and grant them victorious wisdom, wealth, heroism, and fame. They sought the great, unbroken favor of the great gods, so that they might possess wealth and heroic offspring. The shelter of the great, kindled Agni was sought, as was blameless friendship with Mitra and Varuṇa, and the foremost power of Savitṛ. All the gods of Savitṛ, of true power, of Mitra’s law, of Varuṇa, were asked to grant good fortune, wealth, cattle, fame, and wondrous riches. Savitṛ was invoked from behind, before, above, and below, to bestow all-encompassing prosperity and long life. In homage to the vision of Mitra and Varuṇa, the people honored the great god, praising the far-seeing, divine-born beacon, the son of heaven, Sūrya. They prayed that the truth-speaking power would protect them on all sides, and that Heaven and Earth, where the days are woven, would guard them. Whatever moved or entered all things—waters, earth, and the ever-rising Sun—they sought the favor and protection of the gods, so that their lives might be blessed, secure, and filled with light.