A heavy silence had fallen over Mithradates's small, mud-and-straw hut, a silence broken only by the faint moans and occasional deep, trembling breaths of Atossa, Mithradates's wife. Atossa, her face awash with tears and her eyes brimming with boundless sorrow, held her lifeless child tightly in her arms. The pain of losing her child crushed her soul, as if her heart had been torn asunder. But in that bitter moment, her eyes fell upon little Kourosh, who was looking at her with a strange calm and a piercing gaze; a gaze that held not only the innocence of a child but also an ancient wisdom and a great destiny. A moment before, Mithradates had explained Harpagus's plan to Atossa; a plan that would save Kourosh's life at the cost of their own child's death, placing a heavy burden of sacrifice on their shoulders.
Atossa, with a deep understanding and a heart full of conflicting emotions, understood the meaning of this great sacrifice. Her hot tears flowed relentlessly, both from the grief of losing her beloved child and from the joy of the new son that fate had gifted her, and the heavy sense of responsibility that had fallen upon her. Kourosh placed his small hand gently and consolingly on her wet cheek. Atossa, startled by the child's unexpected and affectionate gesture, wiped away her tears and looked at him with wonder and hope. The calmness and assurance in Kourosh's eyes, for a moment, soothed her deep grief and lit a light of hope in her heart. She then looked at Mithradates and, with a pained heart, entrusted her lifeless child to Mithradates and Harpagus, so they could use his body as a substitute for Kourosh. Finally, Harpagus left the hut and set off for Ecbatana.
In his new home, Kourosh stepped into a completely different and unpretentious world, a world far removed from the glamour of the palaces of Anshan and Ecbatana. This home was a simple mud-and-straw hut, with dry mud walls and a wooden roof covered in thatch that held the scent of earth and smoke. Its floor was of packed earth, and it was furnished with simple, handmade items, including a sleeping platform covered with animal skins and a small mud stove for cooking and heating. This hut, with its simplicity and authenticity, stood in stark contrast to the magnificent and ornate palaces of Anshan and Ecbatana; but for Kourosh, this simplicity was itself a great treasure.
Kourosh, in this simple environment and in the embrace of the pristine mountain nature, nurtured deep thoughts. He said to himself: "Here, amidst the earth and straw, and under the unpretentious roof of the mountains, lies the truth of life. Not in the glamour of palaces, nor in the intrigues of the court." He understood the value of ordinary life, the hard work of the people, the honesty of nature, and contentment. This experience prepared him to rule over his people with a deeper wisdom, greater empathy, and a real understanding of their needs; a lesson that no teacher in a palace and no book in the royal libraries could have taught him. He could now feel the true pulse of the people's lives.
Meanwhile, about 10 young and trusted individuals, chosen by Cambyses in coordination with Kourosh, settled in the villages surrounding Mithradates's hut. This group, all young and under the age of 25, were ready to take on commercial, espionage, and military roles. With their intelligence and talent, they were to form the hidden pillars of Kourosh's future empire. Only one of these individuals, an elite and trusted soldier of Kourosh's, remained in Mithradates's village to act as Kourosh's direct and reliable contact, relaying information to him. The others settled in neighboring villages to begin their activities secretly and away from the eyes of Astyages's spies.
These individuals, each with a specific task, became the initial cores of Kourosh's networks. Some, under the guise of merchants, began gathering economic intelligence and creating financial networks. Others, in the role of travelers or shepherds, engaged in espionage, collecting news from the Median court and military movements. And a group, in the solitude of the mountains, engaged in military training and learning new martial techniques.