When the sun of fortune set upon the majestic cypress that was Siyavash, the innocent prince sank into eternal sleep upon the scorching earth—a terrible, unawakening slumber from which no soul returns. The royal court and polo fields were laid barren of his noble presence, and the realm dissolved into mourning for purity and justice slain. The poet laments the inscrutable, unsparing wheel of fate, wherein evil men often prosper while those who walk only in righteousness wilt away in agony.
From the palace of Siyavash, a soul-shattering cry echoed to the heavens, and the world seethed with fury against the treacherous Garsivaz. The moon-faced maidens tore their raven hair and scratched their cheeks in despair. Farangis, daughter of Afrasiab and grieving consort of Siyavash, severed her long musky tresses, bound them around her waist, and rained bitter curses upon her father's soul.
When these piercing curses reached the ears of Afrasiab, the Turanian monarch's malice burned fiercely. He commanded Garsivaz to drag Farangis into the public court, strip away her veil, and beat her mercilessly with rods so that the seed of Siyavash within her womb might perish, ensuring no branch of his bloodline would ever claim the crown. All the assembled Turanian chieftains recoiled in horror, cursing the ruthless monarch in their hearts for such unheard-of cruelty.
Pilsam, brother of Piran Viseh, arrived with blood-flushed cheeks and a heartbroken spirit, having witnessed the horrific execution—how Siyavash was bound like stone, forced to run on foot before the villainous Goroy, and slaughtered over a golden basin like a sacrificial lamb. Hastening to his brothers Lahhak and Farshidvard, Pilsam declared that Hell itself was preferable to Afrasiab's realm. The three champions saddled swift steeds and galloped like the wind to reach Piran Viseh.
Upon hearing the tragic news of Siyavash’s murder and the imminent execution of Farangis, Piran collapsed unconscious from his throne. Waking in agony, he tore his garments, cast dust upon his head, and plucked his silver beard. Pilsam urged him to move swiftly before Farangis and her unborn child were cut in two by the executioners' blades.
Piran readied ten battle-tested steeds and, alongside his valiant sons Ruyin and Farshidvard, rode non-stop for two days and two nights to the royal court. Arriving just as executioners seized the swooning Farangis with drawn swords, Piran leapt from his mount, tore his robes, and ordered the guards to stay their hands. Charging into Afrasiab’s presence with tears streaming down his face, Piran unleashed a torrent of fierce wisdom and rebuke upon the king: "Why have you succumbed to the demon's deceit and slain innocent Siyavash? You have brought down the vengeance of Iranian kings and severed yourself from the Royal Glory! Will you now slaughter your own daughter and her unborn child, cementing an eternal curse upon your name?"
Moved by Piran's passionate plea, Afrasiab relented and yielded custody of Farangis to him. Piran safely escorted the grieving princess to Khotan, placing her under the tender care of his wife Golsahr. Thus, amid the darkest tragedy of Turan, the seed of hope was preserved, awaiting the birth of the savior prince, Kay Khosrow.