After the bitter and secret farewell in Anshan, little Kourosh's journey with Harpagus, the trusted commander of the Medes, and his father's loyal companions continued through the night and day. Their small group moved silently and cautiously through the vast plains and green mountains of the Zagros. The cool morning breeze carried the scent of damp earth and wild herbs, and the sound of the horses' hooves was the only melody that broke the silence of the dawn. Finally, after a long and arduous journey, they reached a small village near Ecbatana, the capital of Media. The village was calm and asleep in the morning silence, but their true destination lay hidden beyond this quiet hamlet, in the heart of nature; a place where destiny had drawn another map for the young prince.
Harpagus, with firm steps and a gaze that spoke of resolve, led Kourosh towards the foot of a tall and magnificent mountain; a mountain whose towering peaks seemed to hide thousand-year-old secrets in their heart, their majesty captivating every eye. With every step they took closer to the mountain, a strange and familiar feeling came alive within little Kourosh. Suddenly, images of the future flashed in his mind; he knew this mountain. This was the very mountain where, years later, Darius the Great would carve his famous trilingual inscription; a massive inscription that would become known as the Behistun Inscription, narrating Darius's rise to power, his victory over his enemies, and the consolidation of the Achaemenid Empire.
Kourosh was astonished by this fateful link between himself and history. This mountain was not only his temporary refuge where he was to spend five years of his life, but also a symbol of the great destiny that awaited the Achaemenid dynasty. Right here, on these very slopes, history was about to begin a new course; a course that, with his escape from death, would lead to the rebirth of a king and the beginning of a dynasty that would rule the world for thousands of years. He understood that this place would be a turning point in his destiny and that of Iran.
As they approached the small, mud-and-straw hut of Mithradates, the wise shepherd, and his wife, Atossa, a heart-wrenching cry was heard from inside the house. A cry full of pain and sorrow that indicated a recent tragedy and the loss of a loved one. Kourosh, who knew well from his modern memory that the couple's child would not survive an illness common in that era, and that this bitter event would pave the way for his own miraculous rescue, immediately and with deep compassion, stepped towards the door of the hut. He knew that this tragedy was itself a part of destiny's grand plan.
He entered the hut and his eyes fell upon a woman huddled in a corner, holding a lifeless child in her arms. This woman was Atossa, Mithradates's wife and Kourosh's second mother. Her face was filled with pain and sorrow, and her tears flowed silently down her cheeks, but Kourosh saw a strange and genuine tranquility in her eyes that stemmed from the nature of the mountains and her inner wisdom. Little Kourosh, with deep compassion, walked towards Atossa and, without a word, gently placed his small hand on her shoulder; a gesture that was very strange and beyond expectation for a five-year-old child, and it stunned Atossa.
Atossa, startled by the child's unexpected and affectionate gesture, wiped away her tears and looked at him with wonder. The calmness and assurance in Kourosh's eyes, for a moment, soothed her deep grief and lit a light of hope in her heart. While Kourosh was busy comforting Atossa and consoling her with his gaze, Harpagus quickly explained the situation to Mithradates. He spoke of Astyages's ruthless command to kill Kourosh and his own secret plan to save him; a plan that preserved the prince's life at the cost of deceiving the king.
Mithradates, who was a wise and loyal man whose gaze penetrated the depths of men's souls, listened to Harpagus's words with care and contemplation. He saw in little Kourosh's eyes an intelligence beyond his years and believed Harpagus's words about the Divine Glory of the future king. Seeing his wife's deep sorrow and understanding the difficult position Harpagus was in, Mithradates agreed. He knew that accepting this responsibility carried great risks and could endanger his family's life, but in the face of such a clear destiny, he had no choice but to submit. This was the beginning of a dangerous game that would determine the fate of empires and shake the foundations of Median power. This small hut at the foot of Behistun, now witness to this secret pact, became a sacred sanctuary. Kourosh, who from this moment on was outwardly a shepherd's child but inwardly a prince with ancient wisdom, was ready to begin a new chapter in his life.