They chose the one who remembered that even the smallest mouthful of water, given with patience and love, can save a world.

That night, the three brothers drank from the slow, clean trickle of the hidden spring. The next day, while Rudas and Pilkas rested, Mažius continued his work. By the second day, Pilkas, ashamed, began to dig a small trench from the spring to the sapling. By the third day, Rudas, moved by a feeling he could not name, guarded the spring from a curious lynx.

They argued for three days, growing weaker. On the fourth morning, Mažius was gone.

“Brother, what are you doing?” asked Pilkas. “Drink! Save your strength!”

Rudas laughed, a dry, rasping sound. “One year? We will be dead in one week.”