The Vedas, with all their branches, the Dharmaśāstras, the Purāṇas, and the scriptures dedicated to Śiva—all these sacred texts exist for the highest good of devotees. Yet, it is truly the guru, who is none other than Śiva himself, who embodies their essence and guides seekers on the path. Yearning for clarity, the devotees humbly asked, “Among these many teachings, in what manner should we worship you, O Lord?” Moved by their devotion, the Lord—compassion incarnate, the son of the Earth and master of the world—spoke gently to them. “You should worship me according to the path revealed in the Kāmika scripture. It seems to me that the Śaiva Saṃhitā has been forgotten by you both, clouded by delusion.” As he spoke, an auspicious liṅga manifested at that very place, radiating divine presence. Seeing this wondrous sight, Mukunda and Kamalāsana were filled with amazement. Inspired, they erected a temple for the Lord of Śoṇagiri and excavated a sacred lake nearby. Over time, they established a city there, naming it Aruṇā. Within this holy place, Brahmarṣis, gods, Gandharvas, and celestial women took up residence. The sacred fords themselves became wells, and the Gaṅgā and other rivers were present in tangible form. Even Goloka appeared as a cow-pen, and the Vedas themselves took on visible forms. Yet not only divine beings, but also ghosts, spirits, piśācas, vetālas, and kaṭapūtanās were present there. The god Dhūrjaṭi—Śiva himself—came as a siddha, drawn by curiosity, for he is never unrecognized by anyone and shines everywhere. For a long time, Mukunda and Kamalāsana worshipped the Lord of Śoṇādri with the utmost devotion, performing initiations and sacred rites, becoming their own teachers in the process. Each morning, after bathing, they would gather fresh flowers, leaves, and fruits for worship. Constantly, they recited the highest mantras with clear and precise articulation. With circumambulations, salutations, and ever-renewed mudrās, they honored Śiva with the five Brahmas, the six limbs, and other prescribed rites. Through their worship of Viṣṇu and Brahmā as well, they attained the knowledge of Śiva. This secret tradition, I once heard from the lips of my father, Śilāda. Yet, even after hearing all this, a deep curiosity seizes me, as it does these assembled sages. So listen attentively, O wise Markandeya. Surely you know how, in ancient times, Dakshayani became the wife of Śiva, and how, angered by her husband, she opposed her father Daksha, the lord of progenitors. At Śiva’s command, Virabhadra acted as instructed, and you have heard how Daksha’s head was severed by the ganas, how Surya’s hands were cut off, Agni was wounded, and teeth were broken in the chaos. After these events, that goddess was born again in the house of Himavat. Śiva, devoted to her, dwelled with her in secret in the forest of Sthanu. Then, self-controlled, the god departed with his ganas, and later approached her, finding her mind troubled by memories of the past. The daughter of the mountain, distressed by widowhood, longed for union with him, supported by her mother Mena and her father Himavat. In those days, Shumbha and Nishumbha obtained a boon from the Creator. When the gods heard of this, they were filled with fear and trembled at what might come.