King Fereydun gazed intently down the highway, his heart filled with yearning for his youngest son. Across the realm, turquoise thrones were burnished, jewels were encrusted into golden crowns, war-elephants were draped in costly finery, and the air echoed with the music of harps and the thunder of drums. The world awaited the return of Prince Iraj, yet the aged monarch was blissfully unaware of the bloody catastrophe wrought by Salm and Tur.
Suddenly, a dark and ominous dust storm gathered on the horizon. Out of the swirling gloom emerged a solitary, grieving courier clad in garments of sorrow, carrying a casket of pure gold wrapped in fine silk. As the messenger drew near Fereydun, the silken veil was lifted, revealing the severed, pale head of Iraj. A collective shriek of horror pierced the heavens. Fereydun tumbled senseless from his steed onto the dust, while his generals and warriors tore their robes in unbearable agony. The radiant sun turned ash-black in the king's eyes, and the light of his vision began to fade.
The glorious royal reception instantly transformed into a nightmarish funeral procession. Royal banners were shredded, war-drums overturned, elephants painted black in grief, and the noble commanders dismounted to pour ashes upon their heads. Weeping bitterly and beating their breasts, the army marched toward Iraj's beloved gardens. Where once joyous banquets had flourished, only desolation remained. Fereydun cradled his son's severed head against his chest, staring at the empty throne and the tall cypress trees that Iraj had once tended. Driven by overwhelming heartache, he set fire to the royal halls, uprooted the rose beds, and cut down the sacred trees.
Binding a bloody girdle around his waist, Fereydun turned his tear-stained face toward the Divine Creator, crying out: 'O Just Arbiter of Heaven! Behold this innocent martyr whose blood was shed by his own brothers. Burn the wicked hearts of Salm and Tur so that they may never know a day of peace! Grant me life only until a champion springs from Iraj's seed to belt himself for revenge!' Day and night, the old king lay collapsed upon the bare earth, weeping so incessantly that wild herbs sprouted around his fallen form and total blindness consumed his eyes. Across the entire kingdom, men and women donned robes of dark blue and black, mourning the noble prince whose tender soul had been stolen by evil.