In the days following the coordination council, the Pasargadae camp was transformed into a massive and bustling workshop.
A workshop where not only weapons, but the soul of a new nation was being forged.
There were no longer separate groups of Persians and Medes.
In every corner of the camp, signs of this unprecedented fusion could be seen.
Median blacksmiths, with their skill in working with heavy metals, were repairing broken swords alongside Persian blacksmiths, who were masters of mass production.
The sound of their hammers was no longer two separate tunes, but a coordinated and powerful rhythm.
On the vast training ground, this union had taken a more tangible form.
The soldiers, now in new combined units, were conducting their first joint exercises.
A Persian Sadbad, with short shouts, was teaching the art of forming a shield wall to a group of Median soldiers.
On the other side, an experienced Median horseman was showing the young Persian riders the complex techniques of combat on horseback.
This exchange of knowledge was accompanied by mutual respect and curiosity, and it broke down the last walls of pride and distrust.
But Kourosh knew that to turn these groups into a single army, something more than joint training was needed.
He needed a symbol.
A symbol that would bind their hearts together and define a common identity for all.
One afternoon, he summoned all the senior commanders, both Persian and Median, to the command tent.
Pointing to a jumbled pile of colorful tribal flags that had been stacked in a corner of the tent, he said:
"Elders, these are the symbols of our glorious past."
"But the past is no longer sufficient for our future."
He then, in a clear voice, issued a command that silenced everyone.
"I command that all the tribal flags of the Medes and Persians be collected."
"From this day on, no flag other than a single, unified banner will fly over this army."
A murmur of astonishment filled the tent.
Eliminating the tribal symbols was a very bold move.
Before the objections could rise, Kourosh unrolled a scroll.
"We need a new symbol."
"A symbol that displays not only our power, but also our wisdom and our union."
He showed them the design he himself had carefully drawn.
"This will be the flag of the kingdom of Media and Pars."
On the scroll, a magnificent and meaningful design was depicted.
On a cloth of royal purple, which was the symbol of the kingship of both nations, the Shahbaz, the golden Aryan eagle with its wings spread, was soaring towards the sky.
Kourosh, with a calm but influential voice, explained the philosophy of this symbol.
"The Aryans consider the Shahbaz their savior, who guided them to the land of Iran."
"Above the golden eagle's head, a circle is seen, which is a sign and symbol of outward-looking thought."
"This golden eagle, in its hands, will bring circles with the meaning of freedom and national welfare for the people of the land of Iran."
A deep silence reigned in the tent.
The Median commanders, including Mazares, looked at this symbol of respect and union with eyes shining with tears and pride.
They had expected anything but this.
They had expected their symbols to be trampled under the feet of the conquerors, not to be given such a high place in the heart of their new flag.
This act melted the last particles of resistance in their hearts.
The Persian commanders also looked at this flag with pride; a flag that displayed not only their power, but also the magnanimity and wisdom of their leader.