Agni, the dark-hued one, is kindled by the priest and set upon the sacred fire. Beloved of the dawns and cherished in the nights, he reigns supreme within the dwellings of humankind. His birth is wondrous: the plants have placed the sacrificial seed, the waters—mothers to all—have given rise to him. Trees and herbs, those that bear fruit and those that flow with sap, have together produced Agni, the universal presence. For Indra, Agni is purified and shines with brilliance in the heavens, born like a mighty bull. He is the vigilant one whom the hymns and chants seek; to him, Soma, the sacred drink, declares, “I am yours in friendship, I dwell with you.” Ever watchful, Agni is the focus of all sacred words and songs, and again, Soma pledges friendship and companionship. Homage is offered to the companions who sat before, and to those who now gather together. The devotee harnesses speech along a hundred paths, singing a song with a thousand turns, invoking the Gāyatrī, Triṣṭubh, and Jagat meters. These sacred forms the gods have gathered and made their abodes, weaving the fabric of the ritual. Agni is light, and light is Agni; Indra is light, and light is Indra; Sūrya is light, and light is Sūrya. The devotee calls upon Agni to return again and again with nourishment, food, and life, to protect from harm, and to bring wealth and abundance that spreads everywhere. The devotee reflects: “If I, Indra, could rule wealth as you do, let my praise be unique; let my friend be a giver of cows.” He seeks to learn and to give, aspiring to be the master of cattle, and prays to Indra for the sweet-speaking cow that yields nourishing milk, cattle, and horses for the sacrificer. The waters are invoked to come and bring delight, to grant strength for great vision and for battle. Their most auspicious essence is desired, to be shared like mothers nourishing their young. Thus, the devotee approaches the one for whose dwelling the waters strive, asking them to generate and nurture life. The wind is called upon to blow healing, bringing happiness and delight, carrying all to long life. “O wind, you are our father, our brother, our friend—grant us life!” The devotee seeks the hidden nectar in the wind’s house, asking that it be granted for life. The swift, all-formed carrier, bearing the golden egg—the great bird clothed in the sun’s rays—moves in order, self-born and mighty, generating wisdom. In the waters, the seed was placed, radiant and all-formed, arising upon earth and measuring its greatness in the mid-space—the very seed of the vigorous horse. Adorned with a thousand rays, the sacrifice upholds the sun’s brilliance, bestowing thousands and hundreds, much wealth, supporting heaven, and ruling the world. In heaven, when the bird with golden wings soars, all gaze upon it in their hearts; it is the messenger of Varuṇa, bird of Yama’s realm, the shining one. The Gandharva stands upright in heaven, bearing bright weapons, clothed in fragrance for vision, generating the golden name and beloved things. A drop moves toward the ocean, seeing with the vulture’s eye, fulfilling its order. Its brilliance shines with a pure flame, creating beloved things in the third realm. Swift and shining, the ninth and third part, like a mighty bull—terrifying, thundering, stirring men, advancing, unblinking, a single hero—Indra conquered a hundred armies at once. With such advancing, unblinking, victorious, and bold Indra, the call is to conquer together in battle, standing firm with the mighty one who wields the arrow. Indra, with those who bear arrows and quivers, leads in battle. Victorious, strong-armed, and fierce-bowed, he strikes down foes with his weapons. Brihaspati is invoked to drive his chariot, repelling demons and enemies, breaking armies, and making his followers the best among chariots. Indra, wise, ancient, heroic, powerful, swift, enduring, fierce, conquering, and victorious, is asked to stand upon the chariot that brings victory and cattle. Breaker of enclosures, knower of cattle, with thunderbolt arms, Indra is victorious, crushing with might. Friends are called to follow Indra, their companion, and join together with him. Indra the hero, hundred-powered and forceful, breaker of enclosures, hard to move, and destroyer in battle, is invoked to protect the army in the fight. Indra is the leader, Brihaspati the right hand, sacrifice the fortress, Soma the front; among the divine armies, the Maruts are to go at the forefront of the victorious and conquering. The resounding cry of the gods—of mighty Indra, king Varuṇa, the Ādityas, and the fierce, great-minded Maruts who shake the worlds—rises in victory. Maghavan is called to stir up the weapons and rouse the minds of the warriors, so that the cries of victorious horses and chariots rise up. May Indra be present among the gathered banners; may the arrows be victorious and the heroes superior; the gods are invoked for protection in all invocations. The army of the Maruts that belongs to others approaches without strength; let it be concealed in darkness and confusion, so that none among them recognizes another. The minds of the enemies are to be led astray, their limbs scattered, driven away and burned in their hearts with torments, so that the foes are joined with blinding darkness. The call goes out: “Go forth, be victorious, O men; may Indra grant you protection; may your arms be fierce and invincible as you advance.