A few days later...
Kourosh's study in the palace of Anshan was a simple sanctuary for wisdom and strategy.
Its walls were covered with wooden shelves that, instead of golden goblets, held orderly scrolls of New Persian paper and ancient clay tablets.
On a large table, a detailed map of the western lands was spread out.
Cambyses stood with a steadfast posture, his fingers tracing the borders between Pars and Elam on the map. His face was worried.
A ten-year-old Kourosh calmly approached his father.
With his small finger, he pointed to the city of Susa on the map.
"Father, before we turn our swords towards the Medes, we must ensure that no dagger will be struck into our back."
"The remnants of Elam are the key to this assurance."
Cambyses sighed.
"The Elamites are a proud people, Kourosh. They have ruled these lands for centuries. They will never trust a nascent Persian power."
"Worse still, many of their rulers have close ties to the Median court."
"In the best-case scenario, they will wait to see which of us wins and then side with the victor."
Kourosh smiled, a smile that showed he had anticipated this response.
"That is precisely why we must not ask them for an alliance, Father."
"We must remind them of something they have forgotten: that we are their true heirs."
He moved closer to his father.
"You are the King of Anshan. This is not a title we Persians invented. This title belonged to the great kings of Elam for thousands of years."
"Our ancestors, by sitting on the throne of Anshan, inherited this legacy."
"We are not the conquerors of Elam; we are the continuators of that great nation's path."
Cambyses's eyes widened in astonishment. He had never thought of history and legitimacy in such depth.
"This... this is a truth hidden in the dust of history. From which master did you learn these things, son?"
Kourosh answered with humility, "These are written on the ancient tablets, Father. We just need to read them. Now is the time to bring this truth to the ears of the Elamites themselves."
He picked up a scroll of high-quality paper.
"We will write a letter to all the Elamite rulers and nobles. Not in Persian, but in their own language and script, the Elamite script, so they know we respect their culture."
He gestured to an elderly scribe who was waiting silently in the corner of the room. That man, "Humban," was an Elamite scribe.
Kourosh turned to him: "Master Humban, today your pen will write history."
Then he turned to his father and recited the text of the letter with the most deliberate words.
"We will not say, 'Join us.' We will say, 'Arise and reclaim the glory of the past with us.'"
He took a deep breath and began the text of the letter, in his name and his father's:
"From Cambyses, King of Anshan, and his son Kourosh, to all the nobles, priests, and brave people of Elam."
"The blood of our great ancestors flows in our veins, and our hearts burn for the ruins of Susa, that magnificent capital that was brought to dust and blood by the hands of the Assyrian tyrants."
"We, as the rightful successors to the kingdom of Anshan and Susa, have come to end this injustice."
"We swear to you that we will once again restore the kingdom of Elam to the height of its glory."
"We will build the walls of Susa more magnificently than before. We will re-erect its ziggurats and turn it into the beating heart of trade and faith in the world."
"Do not join us, but join yourselves. Join your history. Join the future we will build together."
"Azhidahak is a usurper who sits on the ruins of Assyria. But we are the children of this soil."
Master Humban, the elderly scribe, as he carved these words in the Elamite script onto a moist clay tablet, his hands trembled.
Tears welled in his eyes.
He raised his head and, with a voice trembling with emotion, said, "My lord... these words... these words will make the heart of every Elamite tremble. This is a call for a rebirth."
Cambyses, now completely under the influence of this diplomatic masterpiece, asked, "And what if they destroy this tablet?"
Kourosh calmly replied, "They will not destroy it, Father. This tablet gives them hope."
"Even if they do not join us out of fear of the Medes, this will plant the seed of doubt and ambition in their hearts. They will wait."
"And their neutrality in this war is a great victory for us."
Then he had the same letter written on paper in the Elamite language and the New Persian script.