As dawn broke across the sky and dispelled the gloom of night, King Ardavan, steeped in rage and despair, commanded his forces to cease the futile pursuit and return. His visage had turned as dark as indigo from deep anguish and wounded pride. When night fell once more and shrouded the world in shadows, he retired to his inner chambers to address the dishonor that had befallen his house.
There, he wrote a secret and urgent letter to his son, lamenting that deceit and treachery had borne bitter fruit within their royal gardens. He warned his son that Ardashir had fled their presence with such incredible speed that no arrow ever shot from a tightly drawn bow could match his flight. Ardavan commanded his son to set out immediately toward Pars, conducting a covert and ruthless search to apprehend the fugitive prince before word of his rebellion could spread throughout the world.