Harpagus, after a grueling and mysterious journey, finally reached the magnificent gates of Ecbatana, the splendid capital of the Median Kingdom. The city, with its seven walls, each painted a color reminiscent of the seven planets, gleamed in the morning light, a symbol of the unparalleled power, wealth, and grandeur of the Medes. The royal palace, perched on the highest hill, shone with a special strength and majesty, casting its shadow over the entire city; the place where Astyages, the last powerful king of the Medes, sat on his throne. Harpagus, with firm steps and a face that outwardly showed obedience and respect but inwardly carried a secret plan, entered the grand hall of the court; a hall where the scent of incense and rosewater wafted, and which, with its tall stone columns and epic reliefs, flaunted the glory of Media.
Astyages was reclining on his golden, jewel-adorned throne. He wore a magnificent robe of embroidered silk and a golden, gem-studded crown on his head. He was surrounded by the splendid ceremonies of the court, from ministers and advisors to armed and agile guards. The king himself, though his face was wrinkled from years of rule and worry over prophecies, still showed signs of past power and cruelty. His eyes were piercing and searching, as if seeking a hidden secret or an invisible threat. He looked at Harpagus, a look that was a mixture of anticipation, doubt, and hope; a hope that would lift the shadow of fear from his heart.
Harpagus, with a deep bow before the king, stepped forward. He placed his hand on his chest and, with the utmost respect, bowed his head. In his hand, he held a delicate and old cloth that concealed the small remains of bones; the remains of the child who was supposed to be sacrificed in place of Kourosh to keep their great secret hidden. Harpagus, in a calm, cautious, yet firm voice, reported the "complete execution of the command" to the king. He explained how the king's grandson, in accordance with his wish, had been eliminated and no longer posed a threat, and that destiny had been brought to its knees.
Astyages, upon hearing Harpagus's report and seeing the "evidence" that seemed to be a seal of approval on his victory over fate, breathed a sigh of relief. The tension fell from his shoulders, and a false and fragile peace filled his being. A satisfied and devilish smile appeared on his lips; a smile that stemmed from the thought of overcoming destiny and neutralizing the ominous prophecy. He looked at Harpagus, who had seemingly performed his duty to perfection, with confidence and, with a gesture to the guards, ordered that the child's remains be buried and that no more be said of this matter, and that this secret be hidden in the earth forever.
After Harpagus left the hall with another bow and disappeared into the shadows, another shadow emerged from behind the king's throne. Atropates, the chief Magus and leader of the Magian tribe, with a long white robe and a face that showed hidden contentment and victory, approached Astyages. He was the one who had been deeply concerned about the growing influence of little Kourosh and his innovations, seeing it as a serious threat to the authority of the Magi and the ancient traditions; a threat that, in his view, had now been eliminated.
Atropates, in a calm and approving voice that seemed to soothe the king's wounds, said, "O King, your wisdom and the decisiveness of your action have once again been proven. The Divine Glory of kings always shows them the right path and protects them from deception and threat. Prophecies are sometimes fulfilled through difficult solutions and great sacrifices. Now, there is no shadow of danger on your throne, and the kingdom of Media will be at peace." With these words, he encouraged Astyages for his decision and assured him that he was free from the "Persian threat" and could rule in peace.
Astyages, hearing this confirmation from the chief Magus, regained his pride. He leaned back on his throne, with a feeling of absolute victory and peace of mind, and saw himself as a ruler who had brought destiny to its knees, and that no power could defeat him. Atropates thought that by using Astyages, this "borrowed knife" and ruthless tool, he had managed to eliminate the danger and preserve the authority of the Magi, unaware that this very knife, in the hands of someone else, would one day turn against him and shake the foundations of his own power.
But this peace was only a false and deceptive calm. Soon, Astyages himself would witness the unexpected and severe reaction of the people and the nobles to this clumsy decision. A reaction that, due to Kourosh's greater fame compared to the real history and his unprecedented political and religious influence among the people and the nobles, would strike the body of the Median government much more severely and devastatingly than what Herodotus had narrated, and would shake its foundations. The shadow of Persia, this time deeper than ever, had fallen upon the heart of Media.