The next morning, the slopes of Behistun seemed to be enveloped in a halo of tranquility and separation. The cool morning breeze scattered the scent of damp earth and mountain herbs among the branches of the oaks and the moss-covered rocks. But in this silence of nature, a sense of farewell and the beginning of a new chapter waved in the air, as if the mountain itself was witnessing a fateful moment. Little Kourosh, now standing on the threshold of his tenth year, came out of Mithradates's simple hut with heavy but determined steps. The night before, he had entrusted the wooden chests containing his treasury of wisdom—the books he had written with love and precision over the past five years—to one of Cambyses's loyal messengers. Each chest was covered with thick linen cloths and waterproof wax to remain safe from the wind and rain on the long journey to Anshan. Kourosh's heart was filled with a mixture of sorrow for leaving this safe haven and excitement for returning home, where he was to turn his dream of an empire into reality.
When he entered Mithradates's small hut, the warmth of affection and familiarity enveloped him. The mud walls of the hut, adorned with sheepskins and Atossa's handmade weavings, seemed to hold the story of his five years of life. Mithradates and Atossa, with eyes full of longing and affection, came to welcome him. Mithradates, with a firm stature but a fatherly gaze that told of years of care and guidance, looked at Kourosh. Atossa, with a face in which motherly affection was evident in every line, stretched out her hands to him, as if wanting to keep him in this small house for another moment. The air in the hut was filled with the smell of fresh bread and dried herbs that Atossa used for her foods and medicines, and this aroma took Kourosh back to his childhood days in this sanctuary.
Kourosh first stepped towards Mithradates and bowed with deep respect, a sign of the humility and gratitude befitting a Persian prince. In a calm but firm voice, he said, "Mithradates, in these five years, you were not only a kind father to me but also an unparalleled teacher. You taught me how to speak with nature, how to learn lessons of perseverance from the rocks and rivers, and how to win the hearts of my people with wisdom and kindness. Your lessons, from patience in the face of storms to wisdom in the face of hardships, are a treasure that no school could have given me." He paused for a moment and continued with a look full of gratitude, "You showed me that a king, before he commands, must listen, understand, and become one with his people."
Mithradates had a proud smile on his lips; he squeezed Kourosh's shoulders and replied in a warm voice, "Kourosh, my son, you yourself were the jewel that stepped into our hut. Atossa and I were just the soil in which the seed of your wisdom sprouted. This wisdom has been bestowed upon you by Ahura Mazda. I only showed you the way, but it was you who walked it with your determination and will." He stared into Kourosh's eyes for a moment and added, "The world awaits you, and I have faith that you will illuminate it with your light."
Kourosh then went to Atossa. Atossa, whose tears were rolling down her cheeks like pearls, embraced him with such affection as if she wanted to make up for all the years of future separation at this moment. She breathed in the scent of Kourosh's hair, as if wanting to keep this fragrance in her memory forever. Kourosh, in a voice trembling with emotion, said, "Atossa, my second mother, your kindness was like a sun that warmed me on the coldest nights of Behistun. From the day I was a lonely and helpless child until today, when I am ready to fly towards my destiny, you nourished my soul with your kind hands, with your simple but love-filled food, and with the Persian stories you told me on cold nights." He kissed Atossa's cheek and continued, "Your affection, the warmth of this hut, and your endless compassion were the wings that prepared me for this flight. I will never forget these kindnesses."
Atossa, her voice broken by sobs, whispered with a trembling smile, "Kourosh, my son, you are the light of this land. Wherever you are, my heart and Mithradates's are with you. Travel safely, and know that this hut will always be your home." She ran her hand over Kourosh's face and added, "Illuminate the world with your wisdom, but never forget that this is the place where we raised you with love." Kourosh looked at her with a grateful gaze and said, "Mother, I promise to take this love with me to Anshan and with it, build a land worthy of your love."
Kourosh's farewell to Mithradates and Atossa was like parting with a piece of his own being. This small hut, which had been his refuge against the storms of life, had transformed him from a defenseless child into a wise leader. He walked out of the hut with slow steps and cast a farewell glance at the vast plains of Behistun, the towering rocks, and the sky that seemed to be calling him to his destiny. Cambyses's messengers, with ready horses and the precious chests of books, were waiting for him. Each chest contained a treasure of wisdom: "The Immortal Guard" for the military, "The Golden Roads" for trade, "The Light of Knowledge" for education, "The Principles of Persian Governance" for administering the empire, and "The Light of the Divine: A Guide to Religion and State" for linking religion and ethics with government and people's lives, along with dozens of other books covering sciences, diplomacy, and management. These works were his roadmap for building a civilization that would spread justice and wisdom in the world.
Kourosh stepped towards the messengers and, before mounting, paused for a moment. He looked at the small hut of Mithradates and Atossa, where five years of his life had been shaped. Then he looked up at the sky and whispered to himself, "Here, the place where I found my wings, will always remain in my heart. Now, it is time to fly towards Anshan." With these words, he mounted the horse and moved towards the heart of his future kingdom, a destination that was not only a return home but the beginning of a journey to realize his ideals.
After Kourosh left, a heavy silence filled the hut. Atossa, with tearful eyes, stared at the point where Kourosh had disappeared on the horizon. Mithradates, seeing his wife's deep sorrow, gently embraced her and rested his head on her shoulder. In a calm and wise voice, he said, "Atossa, every bird must one day open its wings and fly towards the sky. Kourosh was born to soar, and no wall can stop his flight." He paused for a moment and added, "He will go and illuminate the world with the light of his wisdom. We raised him with love, and now, the world will benefit from this love." Atossa, with a trembling smile, nodded in agreement and said, "Mithradates, he is our son, even if not of our blood. My heart is with him, and I know he will make us proud." They stood hand in hand and gazed at the horizon, where the future of the Persians awaited its blossoming.