The Covenant of the Turquoise and the Sun

In the age before the rise of the Persian Empire, a tribe called "Mazandaran" dwelled along the shores of the Caspian Sea. For generations, the tribe worshipped Mithra, the goddess of the sun, and treasured a massive turquoise stone— a token bestowed by the goddess that brought rain and bountiful harvests to the land. Ardashir, a young priest of the tribe, had borne the mission of guarding the turquoise since childhood.

That midsummer, unprecedented black waves surged from the Caspian Sea, swallowing the tribe’s fishing boats and pastures. Soon after, the sun was obscured by a vast dark cloud, and no sunlight pierced through for three consecutive months. Crops withered, rivers dried up, and the tribe was plunged into despair. On his deathbed, the elder priest told Ardashir: "The dark cloud is the incarnation of Azhi Dahaka, the ancient water demon. Consumed by jealousy of Mithra’s radiance, it has stolen fragments of the sun. Only by journeying to the summit of the Alborz Mountains with the turquoise, and awakening the sun through 'fearless sacrifice', can you save the tribe."

Ardashir set off alone, the turquoise on his back. The Alborz Mountains were lined with icy peaks; along the way, he braved blizzards and avalanches, narrowly escaping death in abysses more than once. When he reached the middle of the mountain, he encountered a ragged old man, barely breathing and begging for a sip of water. Ardashir had only half a waterskin left, but he handed it over without hesitation.

After drinking, the old man suddenly transformed into a burst of golden light, revealing the true form of Mithra. "You have passed the test," the goddess’s voice was as warm as the morning sun. "Azhi Dahaka’s power stems from greed and selfishness, but the kindness and selflessness in your heart are its greatest nemesis." With a light touch of her fingertip on the turquoise, the gemstone erupted into brilliant rays, turning into a burning arrow. Ardashir drew his divine bow to the full and shot the arrow toward the dark cloud in the sky.

At the moment the arrow pierced the cloud, Azhi Dahaka let out a terrible wail and vanished into black smoke. The sun emerged once more, its light flooding the earth. The black waves of the Caspian Sea subsided, withered crops sprouted new shoots, and dried rivers resumed their gentle flow. As for the turquoise, it shattered into stardust and merged into the rocks of the Alborz Mountains.

From then on, the people of the Mazandaran tribe would gather turquoise from the mountains and craft it into ornaments to wear. It was said that each piece of turquoise carried Ardashir’s courage and Mithra’s blessing, capable of dispelling darkness and bringing light and hope. To this day, Iranian craftsmen still carve sun patterns onto turquoise jewelry, commemorating that millennia-old legend of guardianship.