7.23.2026

The Brave Sainz and the First Crossing

Six days after Luka turned fourteen, he woke before sunrise for his First Crossing.


While the village slept, he checked their map twice, their water three times and Ace’s bootlaces four times.


“They’re tied,” said Ace, who was ten.


“They were tied last time too,” Luka replied, “until one tried to escape.”


Max, who was twelve, packed a coil of rope beside the food.


“Why do we need that?” Ace asked.


“We probably don’t,” said Max. “That’s why it will be useful.”


Mum walked with them to Hearth Gate, where the First Crossing began.


Across the mountain, Dad was waiting at the House of Morning. Luka’s task was to lead Max and Ace safely there without a grown-up.


Every Sainz boy made the journey after turning fourteen. Reaching the House of Morning together meant Luka was ready to return home as a man.


Most years, the road was long but safe.


Luka expected aching legs, damp socks and Ace asking how much farther at least thirty times.


Mum hugged each of them at the gate.


“Look after one another,” she said.


“We will,” Luka promised.


“Goodbye, Mum,” the boys called as they stepped onto the road.


Mum stood beneath the gate and watched until the forest hid them from view.


At first, the journey was easy.


They followed silver stones through the trees and found fresh tracks beside the path. Max thought they belonged to a fox. Ace was certain they had been made by a three-legged moon chicken.


“What does a moon chicken eat?” Luka asked.


“Mostly Max’s breakfast.”


They walked on laughing while Max guarded his breakfast with both hands.


By the time they reached the High Cliffs, the sky had begun to pale. Far above them, a red dragon flew towards the House of Morning.


Everyone in Green Hollow knew of the dragon. Each morning, it carried a spark of the Dawnfire to the mountain beacon.


Few people had ever seen it up close.


The drop beside the path made Luka’s stomach twist. He kept his eyes on the dragon, avoiding the empty air below.


Then thunder cracked across the clear sky.


A wild wind struck the mountain. The dragon spun sideways, fighting to stay in the air. Something bright fell from its claws.


The dragon plunged into the forest.


For one quiet moment, none of the brothers moved.


“That wasn’t meant to happen, was it?” Max said.


“No, it wasn’t,” Luka replied.


They left the path and followed a trail of broken branches.


The dragon lay beneath a fallen tree. Its red scales shone between the leaves, and its bright yellow eyes watched the boys approach. A crown of leaf-shaped horns curled around its head.


It tried to rise and gave a low, frightening growl.


Ace stopped.


“I think it’s hurt,” he whispered.


One of the dragon’s wings was trapped beneath the tree.


Luka was frightened too. He could feel his heart thumping against his chest. Still, he stepped closer.


“Hello,” he said, although his voice shook. “We won’t hurt you.”


The dragon kept its eyes fixed on him, but the growling stopped.


The brothers pushed against the tree.


It did not move.


They tried again, using a thick branch to lift it.


The branch snapped.


Max brought out his rope. Luka looped it around the trunk, and all three pulled until their boots slid through the mud.


The tree shifted, but the wing was still trapped.


“Again,” Luka said.


They moved the rope, planted their feet and pulled together.


At last, the tree rolled aside.


The dragon dragged its wing free and slowly stood.


“Thank you,” it said, its voice as deep as distant thunder. “My name is Taran.”


Beside him lay a small glass lantern. Inside, a single purple ember flickered, casting a soft purple light across the wet leaves.


“The Dawnfire,” Max said under his breath.


“My wing will not carry me,” Taran said. “The ember must reach the House of Morning before the final star disappears.”


Luka looked towards the mountain.


The storm had torn away part of the cliff road. Stones still tumbled across the path they were meant to follow.


The journey they had prepared for was gone. What lay ahead seemed impossible.


They could turn back. No one would blame them.


Then Luka looked at the fading ember and the dim sky above Green Hollow.


“We’ll carry it,” he said.


Taran placed the lantern carefully in Ace’s hands.


“There is an older road beneath the mountain,” he told them. “Orin the lion knows the way.”


“Thank you, Taran,” Luka said.


Rain found them before they found Orin.


It poured over the mountain, cold and hard. When Ace began shivering, Luka led them beneath a rocky ledge.


“We can’t stop for long,” Max said.


“We stop until he’s warm.”


Luka wrapped his coat around Ace while Max divided the bread. They ate beneath the ledge as the rain drummed overhead.


Ace balanced a crust on his nose.


“A mountain walrus,” he announced.


Max added two leaves for ears. Luka tried not to laugh but laughed anyway.


For a few minutes, despite the storm and the fading ember, they were simply three brothers sheltering from the rain.


When the rain softened, they continued.


A sudden gust tore the map from Max’s hands. He caught it beneath his knee, but one corner ripped away.


“You were supposed to keep it safe,” Luka snapped.


“I just stopped it from blowing off the mountain.”


Luka saw Max’s muddy hands and bleeding knee.


He took a deep breath. Then he smiled, looked Max in the eye and said, “You’re right. You were just trying to help. I’m sorry.”


Max nodded and smiled.


“It’s all right. Let’s keep moving.”


They found the lion at the mouth of a dark cave.


He was enormous. His mane moved in the wind like long grass, and his warm yellow eyes settled first on Luka, then Max, then Ace.


Luka wanted to step backwards. Instead, he moved in front to protect his brothers.


“Pardon me,” he said. “Are you Orin?”


The lion lowered his head towards the lantern.


“You carry the Dawnfire.”


“Taran was hurt,” Ace explained. “He said you know the old road. Will you please show us the way?”


Orin studied them for another moment, then turned towards the cave.


“Follow me.”


Deep inside the mountain, they came to a stone door with a wheel at its centre.


Luka pushed the wheel. Max pulled it. Ace tried both.


It would not turn.


They rested and tried again.


Nothing.


“Wait,” Max said.


Luka was ready to push once more, but he stopped. He took his hands off the wheel and turned towards Max.


“What did you find?”


“A sound,” Max said. “Somewhere beneath the door.”


Luka crouched beside him, and the brothers became completely still.


Ace tilted his head.


“Water.”


Max held the lantern close to the ground. Its purple light revealed thin grooves hidden beneath the dirt.


Ace cleared them with a stick. Water trickled through the grooves, around the wheel and beneath the door.


Something inside the stone clicked.


“Again,” Luka said.


This time, all three leaned against the wheel.


Slowly and heavily, it began to move.


The door opened onto a narrow bridge hanging above a deep black chasm.


Half its wooden boards were missing.


Orin could go no farther. The bridge would never hold his weight.


Max joined their ropes and tested every knot. Ace held the lantern beneath his coat, protecting the ember from the wind.


As Luka looked across the broken bridge, he found himself afraid of the terrible height. His mouth went dry, and his legs wanted to carry him away from the edge.


There was no other road.


“I’m scared,” he said.


Max placed the rope in his hands.


“We know,” Max replied.


Luka tied it around his waist.


“Hold tight,” Luka said.


“We will,” Ace confirmed.


He stepped onto the bridge.


The ropes creaked. The wind pulled at his clothes. Far below, water crashed through the darkness.


Luka took another step.


Then another.


A board broke beneath his foot.


He dropped, caught the rope and struck the side of the bridge. For one frightening moment, he hung above the chasm.


Max and Orin held the rope firm.


Luka found the bridge with his feet and pulled himself back up.


Everything inside him wanted to return to solid ground.


Instead, he looked towards the House of Morning and kept going.


When he reached the far side, he secured the rope and called Max across.


Ace came last, carrying the Dawnfire.


Halfway over, he stopped.


“I can’t do it!”


Between the torn clouds, the final star was beginning to fade.


Luka stepped back onto the bridge.


“Look at me, Ace.”


Ace raised his eyes.


“I’m scared too,” Luka said. “Come to me one step at a time.”


Ace moved one foot.


Then the other.


Luka kept speaking calmly, guiding him across each missing board.


At last, Ace reached the far side. Luka pulled him onto the rock and wrapped both arms around him.


“That was brave,” Luka said. “You were scared, but you kept going and came all the way.”


Ace gave him a shaky smile.


“Can we be brave somewhere lower next time?”


Luka laughed.


“I hope so.”


They ran the rest of the way.


At the top of the House of Morning stood an empty stone beacon. Ace carefully placed the purple ember inside.


A gust rushed through the beacon and smothered its light.


Max adjusted the silver mirrors.


They tried again.


A thin purple flame appeared, flickered and sank back into the ember.


“One more time,” Luka said.


The brothers stood around the beacon, shielding it with their bodies. Ace cupped his hands around the ember. Max turned the final mirror. Luka breathed gently across the spark.


A purple flame rose between them, bright yellow around its edges.


It rushed through the beacon and burst across the sky.


The clouds turned purple, then orange, then yellow-gold.


Morning poured over the mountain.


Far below, Taran lifted his shining head. Beside the bridge, Orin bowed.


Luka rang the bell of the House of Morning.


One clear note travelled across the valleys, all the way back to Hearth Gate.


The door of the House of Morning flew open.


Dad ran towards them.


He pulled all three boys into his arms and held them close.


“I heard the bell,” he said. “I knew you could do it.”


“We made it,” Luka said.


Max looked down at his muddy clothes.


“Can we tell you what happened while we eat?”


“Before Ace turns into a mountain walrus,” Luka added.


Dad looked at the bread crust still caught in Ace’s hair.


“We may already be too late for that.”


Their laughter filled the House of Morning.


Later, Max fell asleep with his head against Luka’s shoulder. Ace curled up on Luka’s other side, still holding the empty lantern.


Dad laid a blanket across the three of them.


“You brought your brothers home safely,” he said.


Luka looked down at Max and Ace.


“We brought each other.”


Dad met Luka’s eyes and nodded.


“Your First Crossing is complete.”


Luka watched the new sunlight stretch across the land.


He had thought reaching the House of Morning would make him feel different. Taller, perhaps. Stronger. Certain of everything.


Instead, he still felt like himself. But his brothers were safe beside him. Dawn had returned. When the road disappeared, they had found another together.


Fear had found Luka more than once that morning. It had shaken his voice and made his legs feel weak, but it had never taken control. Each time, Luka had chosen what to do next.


As he kept watch over his sleeping brothers, Luka understood that the First Crossing had never truly been about reaching the mountain or proving he could do everything alone.


It was about becoming someone who could lead his brothers home and keep them safe.

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