When Sekandar learned that Dara had once more ascended the throne and rallied his forces, he mobilized an immeasurable host from the lands of Iraq, invoking the name of God among his Roman warriors. The army stretched beyond the horizon, while Dara’s fortune was no longer young. From Istakhr of Pars, Dara brought forth a host so vast that it seemed the stars were blinded and the heavens denied passage.
The two grand armies drew up their lines, a forest of spears, maces, and daggers. A mighty clamor arose that tore the ears of the sky, and the earth turned into a sea of blood strewn with headless corpses. In that terrible carnage, no father showed pity to his son, nor did the turning heavens grant mercy. For the third time, defeat befell Dara, while Sekandar pressed the charge relentlessly.
With a heavy heart, Dara drew his broken forces toward Kerman to save his life from enemy malice. Meanwhile, Sekandar entered Istakhr of Pars—the glorious seat of kings and the pride of Persia. A resonant proclamation echoed from his court: amnesty was granted to all who sought refuge and turned to God. He pledged to spare the wounded, cease the shedding of blood, and protect the property of the realm, attributing his royal glory and victory to the Almighty while bestowing the spoils of war upon his troops.
In Kerman, Dara looked upon his depleted ranks, where two-thirds of the realm's nobility had fallen. The remaining soldiers wept bitterly over their dark fate. Dara gathered the surviving elders and wise men, confessing that this unprecedented disaster was brought about by their own destiny. The nobles wept, recounting how their mothers, sisters, daughters, and royal treasures had all fallen into Roman hands. They advised Dara that force was no longer an option; only tact, gentle words, and a conciliatory letter to Sekandar could appease the storm and buy time. Recognizing the wisdom in their despairing counsel, Dara agreed to write the letter as befitted a monarch facing the turns of Fate.