While Gostahm and Bandoy were situated at Azar Goshasp, the escalating crisis prompted them to quickly mount a courier on two fresh steeds and dispatch him under the veil of darkness. His mission was to reach Prince Khosrow Parviz and inform him of the shifting fortunes of Iran.
As the dark night receded, the messenger reached the young prince and reported all he had witnessed of the chaos engulfing Baghdad. Upon hearing the distressful news, Khosrow's countenance grew pale as a fenugreek blossom. Reflecting deeply, the prince declared that whosoever abandons wisdom to rush blindly into folly shall find their life rendered bitter and fruitless by the turning sky. He expressed that though the news had rendered his food and sleep like fire, he had refrained from marshaling the Iranian chieftains when his father drawn blood; even now, he considered himself a humble servant ready to obey his father's command.
Without delay, Khosrow mobilized his forces with a heavy heart, advancing swift as flame. Renowned cohorts from Barda and Ardabil marched alongside him in impressive ranks, complemented by swift-cavalry contingents sweeping from Armenia. When word reached Baghdad that the true claimant to the royal throne was arriving, a profound sense of relief swept through the metropolis. The magnates and nobles of the city rode forth in grand reception, placing an ivory throne, golden torques, and a precious gem-studded crown before him.
Yet, entering the city with a cold sigh and an aching heart, Khosrow hastened directly to his afflicted father. How fickle is the revolving vault of heaven—granting one the crown of kingship while casting another into the depths of the sea to feed fishes; leaving one destitute, barefoot, and shelterless while clothing another in silk, sable, and rich brocade; yet leading all alike to the dust and the inevitable snare of mortality.