In a forest untouched by time, where the trees whispered forgotten lullabies and sunlight filtered like sacred breath, flowed a river as blu...

In a forest untouched by time, where the trees whispered forgotten lullabies and sunlight filtered like sacred breath, flowed a river as blue as a dream unspoken. No map held its name. Locals called it Nirvata, the river of silence, for it never roared or rushed. It simply listened. Its waters carried ...