A GRAND sacrifice was to take place in the forest of transience. Sixty thousand sages had traveled far to take part in that auspicious event, occurring once every twelve years. And chief among them was Samithaḥ, foremost of the Arhaḥmān, disciple to the great sage Vādruhaḥ, and the greatest of bards that had lived in that time.
Now in that forest where abounded fruits, vegetation, and animals of all kinds, and magnificent lakes and ponds that were alike to ones that could be sought in the Heavens, that noble man sat upon a circular stone platform overlooking the great sacrificial altar, where about slowly sat all the participants of that event. There, he meditated and waited upon those eager to hear him talk and sing.
When all the sages had been seated and had begun to offer oblations into the fire, calling to the Divine with various hymns, a sage by the name of Shūnaya, sat beside Samithaḥ and said, “O blessed devotee of the highest being, you who have arrived to officiate alongside us this grand sacrifice, we come seeking your narration of the greatest of the Ṃārhaḥn that walked this world in the days of yore. A man greater than any who had come before, dispensing to us the universal wisdom that had been lost for many an age. Will you recite the Pharvanṃ of this great individual, O One who is of the Sun?”
The recitations stopped, and all became quiet. Samithaḥ sat silent a while and then opened his eyes.
He smiled before the attendees and to the sage that sat beside him, and then bowing with folded hands, he said, “Indeed, I shall do as you request, O son of Shūna! But the tale you ask me to speak, which I heard wholly dispensed by my teacher, is a long one, toilsome to recite, and will take much time to speak of it all. Yet it seems the Sun himself, who shines from above, has halted in his motion, seeming eager to hear of my words concerning it. O great thrice-born sages who have gathered here, O Shūnaya of great ascetic merits, O Demons who dwell below the Earth suffering from the pangs of hunger, and O Gods who reign above the Sky, remaining ever quiet to the doings of the Ṃārhaḥn: where shall I begin this most glorious tale?”
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The sages remained silent. The ground then shook and soon after, silenced. And upon its end, the sages shifted their gazes toward the sky, seeming to wait upon another to speak for them, and as this thought passed in the air, the light shafts cut through the clouds beaming on both the altar and the two sages that sat beside one another. Blanketed in gold and warmth, Shūnaya said, “Both the Demons and the rest of the Gods seem eager to hear as well, even though they still remain silent.
“We ask that you recite this magnificent tale from its beginning, from the birth of this individual, to his journey with his many companions, and culminating at the resolution of that era. Recite all of which we so dearly desire to hear so that this wonderful saga may be passed to generations to come!”
Samithaḥ was exceedingly glad and said, “Be it so, O great sages! May those that hear this tale shine like the resplendent Samiztrahaḥ, blaze like the immortal Zayagñavhaḥ – blessed in all their totality!”
They all then smiled and with a deep breath, chanted:
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ĀḤṂ