With the heartfelt covenant of the city's elders, the massive, bronze gates of Ecbatana were opened.
With a heavy, imposing creak.
This was not a hostile entry; it was a formal invitation.
By Kourosh's command, the main part of the army remained in the camp outside the city so as not to disturb the capital's peace.
Only a thousand-man unit of the Imperial Guard, composed of the best Persian and Median soldiers, accompanied him in this historic entry.
On the path that went from the gate to the royal palace, the people who until yesterday were the subjects of Azhidahak now stood on both sides of the street with branches of flowers.
Their faces were a mixture of curiosity, hope, and an excitement that had been suppressed for years.
With the entry of Kourosh, who moved calmly and with dignity on his white horse, the silence of anticipation was broken.
A roar of joy and cheer echoed throughout the city.
As if they were releasing years of suppressed emotion.
"Long live Kourosh, long live the savior of Media!"
This cry echoed throughout the city.
The people of Media, with this intelligent slogan, were calling him not a Persian conqueror, but a son of their own who had returned to save them.
From the rooftops and from among the crowd, they threw flowers at him.
A rain of red and white petals colored his path.
This was a passionate and completely spontaneous welcome.
It showed that Kourosh, before conquering the city, had conquered the hearts of its people.
This was the fruit of months of psychological warfare, hopeful letters, and the magnanimous character he had displayed.
Amidst this roaring sea of affection, he responded to the people's expressions of emotion with a faint but real smile.
In their eyes, he saw not the fear of a conqueror, but the hope for a better future.
And this was the heaviest responsibility he had felt on his shoulders to that day.
Beside him, Mandane watched this scene with eyes full of tears.
After years of exile, she had now returned to her birthplace with honor.
And she was seeing how her son had become the hero of her people.
Cambyses looked at his son and this magnificent welcome with immense pride.
And Azhidahak, in a heavy silence and with a bewildered face, witnessed a scene he had never experienced in his entire reign.
The real and unconditional love of the people.
He now understood that true power lies not in terrifying, but in inspiring.
Kourosh, while waving his hand to the people, looked at the great palace that rose at the end of the street.
The silver and gold walls of the royal citadel gleamed in the sunlight.
The same palace from which his grandfather had once issued his death warrant.
He was now heading towards his destiny not as a fugitive victim, but as a beloved conqueror.
This return was the sweetest revenge.
A revenge taken not with the sword, but with love and hope.
This procession was not just a victorious entry into a city.
It was the entry of hope into the heart of a land.
Kourosh knew that conquering a city with a sword is easy.
But ruling over hearts was a challenge that had just begun for him.
He had to prove himself worthy of this love and trust.
And build an empire that was deserving of this magnificent welcome.