Stuck in an Island with Twelve Beautiful Women
Chapter 1031

Chapter 1031: Chapter 1031

Late morning, Jude and wives gathered offerings to bring to mountain cavern, a place spoken of by watchers in Laurel’s mind: hidden space beneath glacier’s lip where light emerges into darkness. They prepared flatcakes, pool water, carved figures, memory slates, woven ribbons, petals, dew. The children watched but stayed to help nurse seedlings.

They left at midday, watchers guiding steadily, weaving circles of light overhead. The wives carried Laurel forward, a living seed of watchers’ covenant. The forest parted before them, glowing arcs brushing moss and denser shadows. Though route was difficult, none faltered; unity and watchers’ presence guided them.

By late afternoon they found cavern mouth half-concealed by draped vines and ice. Water dripped over stone. A single watcher hovered at entrance, beckoning with mist-finger. Sacred hush filled hearts as they entered.

Inside, light faded. Their torches showed stone walls etched with glyphs of watchers, spiraling spirals, eyes within eyes, children and seeds. The pool within glowed from unseen shimmer. They stepped forward.

Laurel approached first. With aid from Grace and Jude, she knelt before pool and offered watcher-figure carved in driftwood. It floated onto water, glowing as if alive. She fingered the surface and invoked watchersign meaning "memory" quietly.

The watcher-light responded, flickering along ancient glyph-lines, awakening within walls. Light arced over all of them. It reflected watchershapes back into stone, portal of living history. Wives gasped. Lanterns glimmered with new glyph-signs emerging on rock. The watchers pulsed in silent song that filled their minds, a fractal echo of watcher memory resonating through time.

Laurel placed fingers on each wife’s shoulder, passing blessing. Each wife seized a memory-slate and carved glyph-runestones as the watchers pulsed memory into their hands through Laurel’s touch. Voices mirrored watchersong in soft chant.

Through that ceremony they absorbed shards of ancient memory: days before the island knew people, before the watchers took form, before the mountain cracked and water pooled, it was memory of origin, of purpose, of covenant forging. They felt roots less than ages deep but alive, they remembered being guardians before they were born.

When ceremony ended, watchers and water seemed fused. Laurel’s face glowed with soft dawn; wives wept in joy. Children slept outside entrance under Susan’s care.

They left cave in hush, watchers escorting them back with light. The wives carried memory-slates and stones etched with new glyphs. Laurel, radiant, walked between Jude and Grace, her small hand firm in each adult’s steady grip.

They returned at dusk. According to watchers’ pattern, the light at seedling-ring pulsed and vines lifted as if greeting returning host. Wives arranged offerings: cave-water dripped onto seedlings, memory-slates set at seeds, flatcakes scattered around roots, petals strewn in spiral.

Laurel stood in ring’s center as watchersong began afresh. Wives and children circled. The watchers answered, pulsing bright arcs over the ring, illuminating each glyph-braided vine. A hush deeper than stone fell as watchers held their breath alongside people.

When the song closed, watchers withdrew, drifting upward. The ring glowed, seedlings seemed taller, greener. Wives pressed their foreheads to the earth and whispered watchersign vow: We remember and carry memory into the world. Children echoed quietly.

Jude stepped forward, tears catching. "Tonight," he said, "we record new watcherscript, the shape of memory from cave, onto woven tapestry. Tomorrow we will begin lesson cycles for children: watchersign, watchersong, watcherscript."

He gathered Laurel. She looked at watchers and bowed gently. "Thank you," she whispered to light.

Wives exchanged nods with pride. This child was their covenant incarnate, living bridge of watchers’ realm and human love.

That night, in longhouse, tapestry lay across table, night-fire glowing. Emma, Zoey, Serena and Scarlet wove watcherscript symbols into cloth, spiral shapes, seed-lattice, watchersign syllables. Laurel whispered watchersign names as threads passed through her tiny hands. All wives murmured affirmation. The watchers watched from outside, pulsing in sync with stitches.

By midnight, the first panel was finished: cave-memory, watcherscript symbolizing origins. They hung it at orchard’s entrance as badge of allegiance.

Jude took Grace’s hand. "We’ve brought watchers’ origin into home."

She smiled. "Now it belongs as story."

He kissed her when watchlight flashed overhead gently, a blessing from watchers for stewardship recognized.

Sleep came deep beneath watchersilk canopy. Hearts were full, covenant rock-solid.

Morning would come with seedlings tall and grown. Children would learn watcherscript. Wives would carve glyph-stones echoing cave-symbols across orchard border. And the watchers themselves, woven between roots and sky, would pulse with watch and memory and love realized.

Mist lay thick as smoke beneath the orchard canopy when Jude rose at dawn, the air still humming from yesterday’s revelations. Watcher-lights hovered low, hovering above sapling leaves like gentle sentinels. He stepped barefoot across dew-chilled grass, hand trailing ribbons tied smooth from memory ceremonies past. Grace followed close, wrapping arms around him and holding Laurel, still wrapped in warmth of last night’s triumph. Raven stirred, eyes blinking with starlight. Jude pressed a kiss to Grace’s forehead, then to Laurel’s temple before he knelt by the seedlings planted at the mountain’s foot. Water drifted from higher ridges still frozen in early morning air. The seedlings glowed pale gold-blue as fingers of watcher mist curled around them. Jude closed his eyes, heart still bright with purpose.

Behind him, the wives stirred: Susan first, sliding from blankets to fetch a bowl of spring water; Rose placed warm flatcakes on woven trays; Serena uncoiled fresh glyph-ribbon dyed with pool-water dyes; Layla gathered petals glistening in mist; Natalie uncorked a jar thick with dew; Zoey held brushes for seed-glaze; Lucy carried memory-slates; Stella slid torches into torch-holder stands; Emma and Sophie prepared watcher-figures; Scarlet wove crimson thread into her braid. The children toddled with baskets of river-stones and seeds, following watchersigns carried in their dreams.

Jude stood and faced them, watching watchers drift in silent arcs. "They’ve given us the cave’s memory," he began, voice hushed yet firm. "Today we root that memory deeper into our hearts and seedlings." Hands gripped. Laurel stepped forward, lifted a small watcher-figure, and placed it at seedling center.