Prince Goshtasp, consumed by anger and sorrow, galloped away from his father's court toward the lush realm of Kabul. Tears filled his eyes, and bitter resentment weighed upon his heart until he arrived at a verdant oasis near Kabul, framed by towering trees, fragrant blossoms, and streams that ran clear as milk and wine. There, amidst mountains teeming with game, the prince and his entourage rested. As night fell, they set torchlight beside the babbling brooks and drank fine wine, and with the break of dawn, they unleashed falcons and hunting leopards upon the wild prey.
Meanwhile, the noble commander Zarir, Goshtasp's devoted brother, rode relentlessly in pursuit, never halting to rest. Soon, the rhythmic thunder of approaching hooves echoed across the hills. Goshtasp listened intently and declared to his lords: "This can only be the roaring steed of Zarir, whose stride sounds like the fierce growل of a lion; he comes not alone, but backed by a formidable host." Before long, a cloud of violet dust arose on the horizon, revealing the iconic elephant-emblazoned banner of Iran. Zarir arrived like a rushing wind, dismounted with tears streaming down his face, offered praises to the Almighty, and fell upon his brother's neck in a warm embrace.
The chieftains sat together in the meadow to counsel. A renowned Iranian lord stepped forward and reminded Goshtasp that all the astrologers and sages of Iran predicted for him a destiny bright as Kay Khosrow's, bound for supreme kingship. He warned Goshtasp against seeking the crown of Hindustan, a land whose people did not worship Yazdan nor hold true honor. He urged the prince to put aside his grievance and return to his father. Goshtasp replied bitterly that he possessed no honor in his father's eyes, for King Lohrasp reserved all his majesty and affection exclusively for the Kavian dynasty—the memory of Kay Khosrow. Goshtasp declared that unless the crown of Iran were placed upon his head, he would vanish into lands where none could ever find him.
Yet, persuaded by Zarir's devotion, Goshtasp agreed to return. When news reached King Lohrasp, the monarch marched out with a magnificent army to welcome his son. Seeing his father, Goshtasp dismounted and bowed down. Lohrasp embraced him tightly, offering sincere apologies and declaring: "Mine is but the title of crown and throne, but the true majesty, command, and fortune belong to thee!" They entered the jewel-encrusted palace and held a glorious feast, so splendid that stars seemed to shower upon the hall. Yet, as the wine flowed, Lohrasp began once more to exalt the Kavians and mourn Kay Khosrow. Blood boiled anew within Goshtasp's heart; realizing his father's soul would ever belong to the old royal bloodline, the young prince quietly rekindled his resolve to carve out his own destiny.