When King Dara read the unyielding reply from Alexander, he was struck with profound astonishment at the unpredictable turn of fate. He declared in bitter grief that resting in a silent tomb would be far more noble than girding his loins in servitude before a Roman conqueror. He remembered how he had once been the refuge and champion of kings across the world; yet now, isolated and abandoned, he found no savior save for Yazdan, the Supreme Lord.
Finding no ally near or far, Dara penned a letter laden with distress and humility to Fur, the wise and mighty monarch of India. Commencing his missive with praise to the Maker of the World, he recounted how the armies of Alexander had stripped him of his crown, throne, lineage, and prosperous realm. He promised Fur that should he bring his legions to his aid, Dara would bestow upon him unimaginable treasures of jewels and crown his name with eternal glory. The swift messenger rode like the wind toward the realms of Hind.
Yet word of this alliance reached Alexander. Instantly, he commanded the war horns to blare and the Indian bells to chime. A colossal Roman host marched out from Istakhr, obscuring the sun with their rising dust. The opposing forces assembled, but the heart had gone out of the Iranian army. Weary of battle and disheartened by misfortune, those who once fought like fierce lions shrank like foxes before the Roman blades. Iranian nobles surrendered, falling from greatness into humiliation.
Seeing his army dissolve and victory slip away, Dara fled the field with three hundred faithful horsemen. Among his closest retinue rode his two trusted ministers and treasurers: a mobad named Mahyar and his companion Janushyar. As they rode through the gathering darkness, treason took root in the hearts of the two advisors. Realizing that Dara's star had set forever, they whispered to one another that slaying the fallen king would earn them royal favor and governorships from Alexander.
Under the cover of night, while a cold wind stirred the wilderness, Janushyar rode to the king's left and Mahyar to his right. Drawing a sharp dagger, Janushyar plunged it deep into the royal breast of Dara. The great king collapsed from his steed, and with his blood staining the soil, the final breath of the royal Kianian line ebbed away into night.