Continuing his relentless quest into the hidden realms of the cosmos, Sekandar emerged from the dark regions into a realm of radiant luminescence. There, rising high into the skies, stood a gleaming, shiny mountain of solid rock. Atop its peaks were erected tall pillars carved from fragrant aloe-wood, their summits reaching into the clouds. Upon each pillar rested a massive nest where sat a colossal green bird of sublime splendour.
As Sekandar approached, the wondrous birds raised their voices, speaking fluently in the Roman tongue to address the victorious world-conqueror. Sekandar hastened to the foot of the pillars to listen. The bird gazed down and proclaimed: 'O seeker of endless toil, what do you pursue in this transient abode? Even if your head should touch the high heavens, you shall return from it aggrieved and empty-handed!' The bird then questioned him regarding the moral state of the mortal world, asking if lust and the building of grand dwellings of baked brick had become rampant. Sekandar affirmed that both were indeed widespread. Hearing this, the bird descended lower and stared intently at the God-fearing king.
The bird then inquired whether the sound of lutes and the intoxicating revelry of song remained in the world. Sekandar replied that those who take no share of joy from fate are never deemed happy by their peers, regardless of their devotion. Upon hearing this, the bird flew down from its aloe-wood pillar to the dark earth, posing a query about wisdom and truthfulness: were they on the rise or in decline? Sekandar answered that those who seek knowledge still command respect above all others. The bird then soared back to its wooden perch, cleaning its beak and claws with great care.
Finally, the avian sage asked if pious men in his realm dwelt upon solitary mountains. Sekandar affirmed that when a man attains purity of mind, he ascends the mountains to worship the Almighty. Content with the king's wisdom, the bird sharpened its beak and issued a solemn command to Caesar: 'Now, leave your retinue behind and ascend the sharp ridge of this mountain alone, on foot! Go and behold what lies upon the summit—a sight that would cause even the most joyful heart to weep.'