As Nush-zad uttered his final words, he closed his lips, and the valiant prince breathed his last. When his troops realized their brave leader had fallen, their ranks dissolved and they fled the battlefield in sorrow. No further blood was spilled, no plunder was taken, and no joy remained upon the field, for a dark pall of grief covered all.
Ram-Borzin, the commander sent by King Nushin-ravan, approached and saw the young prince lying cold upon the earth, his head cradled by Skuba, the Christian bishop. Shouts of lamentation echoed across the field, and Ram-Borzin’s heart burned with anguish. He turned to the bishop and asked: 'What royal testament or dying words did Nush-zad leave with you?' The bishop replied: 'He bade that when his body was pierced by arrows, none save his mother should look upon his bare flesh. He asked for no Zoroastrian ossuary, no fragrant musk or ambergris, no royal crown, no Roman silks, and no elevated throne. He willed that according to the rites of the Messiah, his mother alone should wrap him in his shroud and prepare his grave, for his soul has joined Christ.'
When the word spread, there was not a single Christian in the city whose face was not torn with grief. Wailing arose from all the men and women of the city who gathered as one. They lifted the coffin of the brave youth—once the beloved son of King Nushin-ravan—and bore it upon their hands for three leagues.
When news reached his mother, her crown fell to the dust. Disheveled and distraught, she rushed bareheaded into the streets, surrounded by weeping crowds. They pitched a royal pavilion around her in the market square as all the world cast dust upon their heads in sympathy. Thus they laid Nush-zad to rest; like a sudden wind he came, and like the wind he vanished into the earth, leaving all of Gundeshapur weeping with broken hearts.