In that vast and ancient land, there rose many mighty mountains: Matiman, Kshurarpana, Vanaukaha, Meghavan, Chakravan, and the formidable Astaparvata, each standing as silent witnesses to the ages. Around these peaks dwelled diverse peoples: the Panchanadas by their five rivers, the Kasha and Brahmavasataka, the Tarakshata, Parava, and the peaceful Shantika, each community shaped by their own customs and destinies. Beside the waters of Vatakapokra lived the Girivana and Avama, while beyond them, those who had abandoned the sacred boundaries of righteousness—known as the low-born Mlecchas—found their place. There stretched a land two hundred yojanas wide, and beyond it, the radiant peak of Mahendra, adorned with pearls and gems, gleamed in the sunlight. Surrounded by hundreds of lesser mountains stood the Astona mountain, and upon the shores of the Pariyatra range, the vast and terrible oceans roared. To the west and north lay the region of Girimati, then Venumati, and further still, the land of Turamati. In the same expanse were Phalgunaka, Mandavya, Ekanetraka, Purukunda, Tukhara, Talamalla, and Lahavaha—each land with its own people and stories. There were the Vandila, Navila, and Vala, strong-limbed and long-haired; Ranga, Khamunika, Kampa, Guruha, and Aruhas dwelled there as well. In that wondrous realm was the kingdom of women, unmatched and mysterious, a place where the offspring of cows and bulls were cherished. To the north, the Himalaya stretched its snowy arms, flanked by the Kān̄ja and the honey-rich Madhumān mountain. There, too, were the sacred Kailāsa, Vasumān, and Meru, and along these divine paths lived the Madras, Pauravas, Yaudheyas, Mālavas, and Śūrasenas. The land was also home to noble royal clans: the Aśvins, the descendants of Arjuna, the Trigartas, the Kekayas, the small Mācelas, and the Cūstavas. The Ambalas, Prasthalas, Śākas, and Kṣemadhūrtas dwelled there, as did the people of Antaradvīpa, Gandhāras, and the Vandivaṭastavas. Great cities rose in this region: Takṣaśilā, famed for its learning; Lavaṇāvatī, Puṣkalāvatī, and Yaśovatī, each a center of life and culture. Beyond lay Maṇimatī, the Śyāmākās, and the Khacaras; the Dāśadānas, Gavyasanas, and Daṇḍahavyasanas. The Dānadās, Śūrakās, and Vāṭādhāras found their homes here, as did the citizens of Kohaka and Surabhūtipura. Further still were the Taṭakādarśas, the Danturādarśas, the Piṇḍalamālas, Vyāyaneyas, and Ābhidhānakas. In the shadow of the mountains lived the Mālahālā, Hūna, Hematāla, Āśvāsa, Svamukha, and the people of Himavān, Vasumān, Kauñja, and Kailāsa, as well as the city of Ayut. The land of the people stretched for eighty hundred yojanas. In the northeast resided the Kaulūtas, Brahmaputras, Kuvindas, Dinādanas, Maḍavas, those whose kingdoms had vanished, and the forest-dwellers. The Kaiḍabhallas, Siṃhapuras, Cāmavataṅganas, Sārpātakas, Pārvatakas, Kaśmīras, and Daradas called these regions home. There were also the Abhisāras, Jadārvākas, Pallolukas, Ciroḍunas, Kirātas, cowherds, Cīnas, and the legendary land of gold. Scattered throughout were sacred groves and devasthalas, lands praised by Viśvāvasu, the temple of supreme prosperity, the realm of Kailāsa, the Muñja forest, the Vidyādhara mountains, and the celestial palaces of the gods—places where the divine and mortal worlds intertwined. But this land was also scarred by war. In fierce and terrible battles, where men and elephants fell in their hundreds, each warrior cried, "I will go first! I will go first!"—and so they fell, group after group, as if drawn like moths to a consuming flame. Many peoples and warriors perished, their bodies reduced to ashes by the fires of conflict. Amidst all this, there were still others in the central regions, whose stories had yet to be told. Among them were the Uddehikas, Shurasenas, Gudas, Ashvatthanipakas, Uttamajyotikadras, and Padamadhyamikas. The Salvakas, Ketakas, Matsyas, Dauleyakas, Kapishtalas, Mandavyapandunagaras, Sauragrivas, and Gurugrahas joined their ranks. The Pariyatras, Kuradhyas, Yamunodumbaras, Gajahvas, Ujjihanas, Kalakotikas, and Mathuras were also counted among the brave. The Kapolas, Dharmaranyas, the northern and southern peoples, Panchalas, Kurukshetras, and Sarasvatas—all these, together with the Avantis, Syandanas, Shrenis, Kuntas, and the people of the five rivers, fled in streams and fell upon the great mountain. The Kashas and Brahmavasatas were struck down by the Sambavati warriors; their bodies trampled by maddened elephants. The valiant men of Dashapura, their abdomens and necks severed by weapons, were cast by the Tarakshatis into a lake a yojana wide. The Ṛṣyaka, Kārūruka, and Kaccha warriors, marked with the emblems of Śaivya and Śaṅku, became caked in mud, trampled by the armies in the chaos of battle. Those desperate for shelter scattered through the forests and hills, but many fell into the waters of the Yamunā. With their bellies torn and entrails exposed, they lay motionless in the night, their corpses gnawed by ghouls in the darkness. Some, struck down by the noble Bhadragiri warriors, were cast into the earth’s pits, like lotus stalks dropped into a pond. Blood flowed as if the very land were melting, and the charioteers, once mighty, were routed and scattered, swept away by the wild winds of Daṇḍaka—just as the Hehayas were once swept away by Hari. Split apart by the tusks of elephants, their enemies crushed and broken, they were carried off by the great river of blood like tender shoots in a flood. Warriors from Cīna, their bodies pierced by arrows, abandoned their mortal forms—burdens to the earth—into the vast ocean. The valiant Ābhīra heroes, their mountain caves breached by the spears of the mighty Karṇāṭa and Oḍḍīna warriors, perished in the sky like clusters of stars vanishing at dawn. Thus, the land was filled with mountains and rivers, cities and kingdoms, peoples both noble and humble—each with their own fate, each woven into the great and terrible tapestry of time.