When the dark night reined in its obsidian steed and the radiant sun thrust its golden spear across the heavens, King Goshtasp took his seat upon the golden throne of Iran. Before him stepped Prince Esfandiyar—that elephant-bodied hero of Kianian lineage—standing with folded arms in deep reverence, yet bearing a soul weighed down by grief and bitter memory. Around the high throne, the valiant champions of the realm gathered, while wise mobads and military commanders arranged themselves in solemn rows.
Amidst this illustrious assembly, Esfandiyar unburdened his aching heart. He began with dutiful reverence, hailing Goshtasp as the bearer of the Divine Glory (Farrah) on earth, through whom the crown and throne gained splendor, declaring himself ever a bounden servant to his father's command. Yet soon, the prince unveiled the dark chronicle of past wrongs. He recalled how, when King Arjasp led the host of China to extinguish the Holy Faith, Esfandiyar had sworn sacred oaths to cleave any idolater or apostate in twain with his blade, fighting upon the battlefield like a ravenous leopard.
Yet the reward for his devotion was betrayal and mistrust. Esfandiyar reminded the king how he had hearkened to the poisonous slanders of Gorazm, casting his own heroic son into heavy iron chains and blacksmiths' bolts, abandoning him to shame within the walls of Gombadan Fortress. While Esfandiyar lay chained, Goshtasp had departed for Zabulistan, leaving Balkh unguarded and mistaking dire war for a peaceful feast. Taking advantage of this folly, Arjasp stormed the city, spilled the blood of the aged King Lohrasp, dragged Esfandiyar's sisters into captivity, and left his noble brother Farshidvard bleeding upon the battlefield.
Esfandiyar recalled the bitter hour when the counselor Jamasp visited his dungeon. At first, Esfandiyar had refused to break his fetters without royal leave, choosing obedience and leaving his fate to God. But when Jamasp revealed the tragic truth—that King Goshtasp was fleeing before the Turanians, that his sisters were weeping in captivity, and that the noble warriors of Iran were fallen—the fire of Iranian honor blazed within him. Bending his titan strength, he shattered the iron bonds, sprinted to the field of slaughter, routed the enemy, and embarked upon the perilous Haft Khan (Seven Labors).
He traversed monstrous horrors and dark sorceries, finally severing the head of Arjasp, raising Goshtasp’s name to the heavens, and returning with his rescued sisters, the Turanian treasure, and the royal crown. Yet, Esfandiyar lamented bitterly, all his blood, sweat, and agony yielded him only continuous toil, while the king reaped the glory. He confronted Goshtasp with his own repeated vows—the solemn promise that upon Esfandiyar's victorious return, the ivory throne and the Kianian crown would be handed over to him as the true champion of the realm. Ashamed before the assembled nobles who questioned why the hero remained uncrowned, Esfandiyar demanded to know what excuse remained, and for whose sake he was expected to endure further suffering.