When King Ardavan awoke at dawn, his heart grew dark, for the radiant face of Golnar—whose presence was his daily omen of good fortune—was nowhere to be seen. Incensed, he stepped into his court where the nobles and commanders were assembled. The master of ceremonies reported that the maiden had failed to attend the royal bedchamber. Moments later, the chief scribe arrived bearing grave news: in the dead of night, Ardashir had fled, taking with him the king's two most renowned steeds—one dapple-white and the other coal-black—along with royal treasures and the maiden Golnar.
A furious storm swept over Ardavan's soul. Without losing a breath, he assembled a battalion of swift horsemen and rode out in pursuit, raising clouds of dust across the plains. Along the way, he encountered travelers and herdsmen, asking if they had heard the thundering hooves of fleeing steeds in the early dawn. They recounted that two riders had swept past on a white steed and a black steed, followed closely by a radiant, pure ram that dashed like a stallion, kicking up dust in their wake. Turning to his vizier, Ardavan asked the meaning of the swift-running ram. The wise minister replied that the ram was none other than the divine Farrah—the Royal Glory of kingship—flying to rest upon Ardashir. He warned that if the ram caught up to Ardashir and united with him, the kingdom would be permanently sealed to his line, and any pursuit would prove futile.
Meanwhile, Ardashir and Golnar rode relentlessly like the rushing wind. Wearied by the grueling pace, Ardashir spotted a clear pool of water from a hilltop and urged Golnar to dismount so they could rest their exhausted bodies and water their faint steeds. But as they approached the water, two mysterious youths appeared by the spring and called out urgently: "Hold your reins! Do not dismount! You have escaped the very jaws of the dragon—now is no time for drink! Press on and save your life!" Recognizing their words as divine counsel, Ardashir pulled his reins, raised his gleaming spear, and galloped onward. When Ardavan reached a nearby city by midday, the elders informed him that the fugitives had already passed through, accompanied by the divine ram of Royal Glory. Realizing his luck had turned and his reign was slipping away, Ardavan accepted the advice of his wise counselors to abandon the futile chase, return home to muster his armies, and send word to his son, while offering praise to the Almighty.