The festival began before dawn. Pilgrims from distant villages arrived, their sandals polished to a soft gleam, each pair bearing a small token: a smooth stone, a dried leaf, a piece of woven cloth—symbols of the journeys they had taken. They placed these tokens into a great stone basin at the foot of the hill, where the Torrent’s water constantly flowed. As each offering touched the water, a soft, harmonious chime rang out, as if the river itself sang.