The Wayfinders

Far beyond the places shown on maps, where the hills are damp with fog and the wind calls the ferns in, lies the elusive Lake Whare.

On most days, the lake is hidden.

Some say it is covered in fog, others say it simply chooses not to be seen.

Once each turning of the season, where the place grows thin, paths appear leading to the western shore. Paths found only by those who have been quietly invited.

From every corner of the Hidden Country they come, a representative from each of the Clans.

The Wayfinders

Ancient beings from the high tussock lands to the deep forest, whose memories stretch back to the Beginning.

Each carries a crystal within its heart, a living record of the clan’s stories, stories of laughter, grief, fragments of poems, songs and forgotten dreams.

For one silent evening at the Meeting Place the crystals are brought together, for sharing and to bear witness.

Peace endures.

No ruler commands it.

No treaty records it.

The Wayfinders remember.