Having explored the marvels of distant lands and gazed upon the vast oceans, Sikandar turned his mighty army toward the far reaches of the West. Before them arose a magnificent city populated by formidable folk with ruddy complexions and golden hair—warriors of sterner stuff, fashioned for the clash of weapons. Seeing the supreme conqueror, they yielded without resistance, bowing low with hands upon their heads in total submission.
Sikandar inquired of their chieftains concerning the wonders hid within their domain. A venerable elder stepped forward, declaring: 'O radiant and victorious King, beyond this metropolis lies a fathomless abyss of water whereof no mortal hath ever drunk. When the shining sun reaches that deep sea, it sinks beneath the tide and vanishes, plunging the realm into an all-enveloping darkness. Yet wise and God-fearing men speak of a secret spring within that Gloom, known to sages as the Water of Life. Whosoever tastes of its stream shall never know death; it flows directly from Paradise, and washing in its waters cleanses the soul of all transgression.'
Intrigued by the promise of immortality, Sikandar asked how steeds and beasts could navigate so pitch-black a void. The holy sage counseled that only four-year-old fillies possess the instinct to tread through the absolute shade. Thereupon, the King commanded the herdsmen to drive all free-roaming horses to the royal camp, selecting ten thousand choice four-year-old steeds to prepare his force for the perilous journey into the heart of Darkness.