Once upon a time, I accidentally heard about a small people living on the shores of Lake Peipsi in the lands called Prichudye. This region is called Setomaa in Estonian, “land of the Seto.” Setu is the name of the people whose fate for some reason touched me. I have never seen them in reality, never heard their songs, never walked on the flower carpets that line the roads to churches on the feast of the Dormition of the Virgin Mary. Almost all that I know about the Seto is that they called the best singers the Mothers of Song; they were deeply pious, but in the simplicity of their souls they composed tales in which the saints lived hand in hand with the gods and heroes of the pagan past. The neighbors insultingly called the seta “half-verks.” Or Estonians. And they were and remain Seto. However, there are fewer and fewer of them, and, unfortunately, it is possible that this lovely people will soon disappear from the face of the earth. But for now, the holidays of Setomaa are alive, and every year the Setu people choose their new King, which means hope remains... Published along with the fairy tale "Elfrin" in 2008