When five years of Khosrow Parviz’s reign had passed, he stood without peer in the realm, bathed in splendor. In the sixth year, a magnificent son was born to him by Caesar's moon-like daughter, bearing the unmistakable royal countenance of his father. According to the imperial custom of two names, the king leaned down to whisper a hidden name into the infant’s ear—'Qobad'—while proclaiming him publicly to the world as 'Shiroye'.
When three watches of the night had elapsed, the royal astrologers assembled before the king. Khosrow inquired of them: 'What does the celestial horoscope reveal? What destiny is written in the stars for this royal newborn?' With heavy hearts, the stargazers replied: 'O Sovereign, none can bypass the turns of fate. From this child, chaos shall engulf the earth; your armies will utter no blessings upon him, and he shall stray far from the path of Yazdan.'
Upon hearing these ill-omened words, the king’s heart sank into deep affliction. He strictly commanded the astrologers to seal their lips, forbidding them from uttering a word of this prophecy before the grandees of Iran. He sealed the parchment containing the ominous horoscope and secured it within the royal treasury. Overcome with dread, Khosrow retreated into isolation for a week, shunning the hunt, the wine-cup, and the sight of all court officials.
Troubled by the monarch’s withdrawal, the nobles assembled before the High Priest (Mobad) to seek an explanation. The Mobad entered the royal chambers and conveyed the concern of the army and grandees. Khosrow confessed his deep despair over the turning heavens and ordered the treasurer to produce the silk-bound document. When the Mobad read the dark prophecy, he was struck silent at first, but soon offered profound wisdom: 'O King, God alone suffices, whose wisdom towers above all mortal knowledge. If the celestial sphere has ordained a fate, no amount of sorrow can alter the turning sky. How does such anguish fit a ruler of your wisdom? Dismiss these predictions and embrace nothing but joy.'
Upon hearing the wise Mobad's counsel, Khosrow smiled, brushed away the cloud of melancholy, and summoned his royal scribe to begin a new decree.