Stuck in an Island with Twelve Beautiful Women
Chapter 1015

Chapter 1015: Chapter 1015

As they spoke, seedlings glowed brighter; new shoots burst overnight, reaching toward watchers. Light thickened around the circle. A watcher hovered above Jude. He met its silent gaze.

It dipped its mist-hand, sending droplets to descend like soft rain into his hand. When he lifted it, water retained watcher glow. They repeated for each wife. Laughter and tears mingled in the hush.

They stood in radiant circle. Finally, watchers receded but lingered overhead, forming a dome of light. The wives exhaled. A child giggled and clapped softly. The watchers pulsed in applause and floated away into forest, almost shyly.

They returned to the orchard in silence luminous with emotion. Under fig-glyph tree, they paused for breakfast. Hot porridge, fruit, honey. Children fed flatcakes to watchers drifting overhead, tiny forms skimming between palms of tall trees, accepting crumbs delicately.

Afterward, Jude walked alone to the mountain ring seedlings, watching their growth. He knelt, tasting earth, listening for pulse. Grace joined, slipping her arm around him. They stayed awhile in quiet communion.

Afternoon came. Wives met for teaching: families in pairs, each learning watcher language in gesture. Susan guided children through signs of peace and thanks. Emma taught glyph-song, the melody the watchers favored. Zoey showed how flatcakes could be molded with glyph impressions to carry small messages. Lucy recorded all in slates.

Jude and Grace moved to the ring, prayer slates in hand. They spoke their names, vows of guardianship. They placed slate in bowl of water, and watcher light traced lines across its surface, fresh glyphs forming reflection-grown words. They removed and read: Cherish Growth. Honor Light.

They shared results. The wives listened, soft tears. A chorus of whispered "Thank yous" echoed.

That night, they escorted children to the ring for sleep under watcher canopy. Blankets spread under saplings; torches set low. Wives sat in circle, arms interlocked. Jude spoke softly: "We rest here tonight. Under watchers above, seedlings beneath. We vow to protect both." He held Grace. "Do you accept?" She nodded. The wives echoed affirmation.

Night deepened. Watchers gathered, planned as soft constellations. Their glow warmed bodies. Children slept. Wives closed their eyes. Jude kept vigil in silence, listening. The watchers pulsed slower, heartbeat of peace.

Dawn arrived with golden mist. The ring dewdrops glowed bright. Mothers stirred, gathered children. They returned home, followers moved slowly, hearts heavy with new trust.

Days followed of tending ring: watering, singing, whispering names. Wives charted seeds in lilies of watcher glyphs. They built a low fence of living vines. The watchers responded with nightly light flickers, guiding new growth.

One afternoon, Jude found a watcher resting on juniper branch. It let him approach. He knelt, extended hand. It touched his fingertips. He bowed. The watcher bent deeply, then fluttered its light into saplings. He felt joy, belonging.

He returned to wives. "They’re learning us," he said. The wives beamed.

As dusk fell, they gathered at ring. A soft rain began. Watcher light thickened like fallen stars; seedlings bent with droplets; ribbons soaked and weightless. Wives moved under watch-light to place canopies of moss to shelter children. They shared jest jokes, warm touches, between tasks.

Rain transformed earth into quiet hymn. Watchers glimmered in droplets. A lullaby arose from wives singing under storm, melding voice and watcher presence.

Children fell asleep again beneath soft rain and light. Wives huddled near, comforting whisper. Jude stood sentinel, watching watchers dance on sapling tips. Not once had he feared. Only felt peace.

Morning came clear. The ring was transformed overnight: seedlings triple their size; new buds forming; vines curling with purpose. Watcher presence stronger. Shoes were placed at edge as symbol. Wives circled ring, names whispered. Children danced.

They fed watchers small bowls of honey dew. Watchers accepted, pulled into forms, responded with soft radiance.

Jude took slate and etched new glyph: entwined root, spiral leaf. Lucy recorded. This symbol meant Union of Earth and Light.

They placed slate in shrine at mountain foot before ring.

Grace lay on hillside with Raven and Laurel, teaching them watcher signs. Jude sat near her.

They spoke quietly of next steps, mapping watchers deeper, learning boundary of mountain ring, building bigger circle at base of mountain.

That night, they celebrated under orchard sky. Fires lit; table laid with wild fruits and bread. Wives toasted watchers, seedlings, island, each other. Laughter rang, soft and heartfelt. Watchers gathered low above orchard, light shimmering in time with laughter.

Jude held Grace. "We’re building a home none of us could alone."

Grace smiled. "A home for watchers too."

Wives raised cups and echoed. Children echoed too, even Raven babbling watcher sounds delightedly.

When last embers died, the wives and children lay beneath watchers again, this time in orchard, under broad branches. Jude found Rose’s hand, Scarlet’s head on his chest. They closed eyes to pulses of light overhead. The watchers glowed gently until dawn. They slept under canopy that now felt like presence, not threat.

When Jude awoke, he felt a quiet certainty, a covenant sealed. They were Keepers of watchers and seeds, guardians of covenant. The mountain loomed silent but beckoning still; mountain ring glowed hidden by mist and rain. A path now existed, made by trust, nourished by light.

And so they remained, twelve wives, two children, one man, under watcher watch, rooted in covenant, living pages of story yet to unfold. Their love formed soil, their promise watered seed. The watchers waited. The seedlings grew. And the island hummed with shared memory and promise.

Jude woke before dawn, the orchard’s mist hanging like a veil between life and dream. His skin still tingled from last night’s vigil beneath the watchers’ glow, seeds planted and vows made under pale luminescence. He rose quietly, leaving bodies sleeping in their woven nests, and stepped beneath the mist-laced trees. Soft pulses of watcher light shimmered overhead, their rhythm steady and slow, like a heartbeat shared between earth and sky. Jude closed his eyes and felt the orchard breathe around him, the soil, the saplings, the ribbons and seedlings all humming in harmony.