When the ancient chronicler spread the banquet of discourse, he unfolded the magnificent epic of Esfandiyar’s Seven Trials. Having won his freedom from the dark dungeons of King Goshtasp, Prince Esfandiyar marched out of Balkh with a heart heavy with grievance and a mind hardened by bitter fate. He pressed forward until he reached a fork in the ancient roads. There, he pitched his royal pavilions, commanded a grand feast to be prepared, and summoned harpers, singers, and golden goblets of wine. As the spirit of the wine kindled his heart, he ordered his Turanian captive, the fallen warrior Gorgsar, to be brought before him in chains.
Esfandiyar pressed four golden cups of wine upon Gorgsar in quick succession, then fixed him with a piercing gaze, saying: 'O ill-fated captive! If you answer my questions with absolute truth, I shall bestow upon you the throne and crown of Turan, raise your head to the blazing sun, and spare all your kin. But if you dare to weave a single thread of deceit, my blade shall cleave you in two, filling the hearts of all men with terror!'
Gorgsar bowed his head and swore that only truth would cross his lips. Esfandiyar then demanded: 'Where lies the Fortress of Brass—Ruin Dezh—and how many leagues separate us from it? What horrors guard the trails, and what manner of stronghold is King Arjasp's realm?' Gorgsar revealed that three paths led to the fortress: the first was a three-month trek through vast pastures, yet too long for a swift campaign; the second was a two-month trail plagued by scarce rations; and the third was a deadly seven-day passage that brought an army to the gates of Ruin Dezh on the eighth day. Yet this short path was the legendary Haft-Khwan—a nightmare realm filled with monstrous wolves as large as elephants, roaring lions, fire-breathing dragons, bloodthirsty enchantresses, howling arctic blizzards that rend trees, and the terrifying Simorgh whose wings cast mountains into darkness. Even should a warrior survive these, Ruin Dezh stood with walls scaling the dark storm-clouds, encircled by a deep, swift river, stocked with a hundred years of grain, water, and steel, impenetrable to any siege.
Esfandiyar listened, paused in deep reflection, and then declared firmly: 'We have no choice but this shortest path! A true champion turns not from peril.' Gorgsar warned him that no living soul had ever breached the Seven Trials by strength or shout alone, but Esfandiyar boasted of his divine glory and demon-crushing iron strength. When Esfandiyar asked what monster awaited in the First Stage, Gorgsar answered: 'Two colossal wolves, male and female, each as vast as an enraged war-elephant, armed with tusks like ivory spears and stag-like horns, possessed by the fierce fury of wild lions!'
At break of dawn, as the radiant sun crowned the heavens and the war-drums thundered across the plains, Esfandiyar bound Gorgsar once more and entrusted the main host to his noble and vigilant brother, Peshotan. 'Keep the army in strict array,' Esfandiyar commanded, 'for I shall ride alone into the abyss. If evil befalls me, let not the common soldiers perish.' Arming himself in heavy mail, he tightened the girth of his dark steed Shabrang and galloped toward the realm of the beasts.
As he entered the desolate gorge, the two monstrous, horned wolves charged from the plain like towering elephants. Undaunted, the brave prince notched his heavy bow, roared like a desert lion, and loosed a hail of steel-tipped arrows that shattered their colossal frames. As the bleeding beasts stumbled, Esfandiyar drew his poison-quenched longsword and hurled himself upon them, cleaving their thick hides until the dry dust turned to crimson mud. Dismounting from his steed, he washed the dark gore from his body and armor, bowed his brow toward the sun, and knelt in humble prayer to Yazdan, crying: 'O Just Creator! It is You who bestowed upon me strength and wisdom, and turned these monstrous beasts to dust.' When Peshotan and the Iranian army reached the spot and beheld the colossal carcasses, they were struck with awe, praising the eternal glory of Esfandiyar and praying that his royal throne and sword remain forever triumphant.