Stuck in an Island with Twelve Beautiful Women
Chapter 1032

Chapter 1032: Chapter 1032

Jude smiled, caught tears in his eyes. Each wife offered a token in turn: Susan poured spring water, Rose laid flatcakes carved with glyph-spiral, Serena tied ribbons onto ring markers, Layla scattered petals, Natalie dripped dew, Zoey brushed seed-glaze, Lucy laid memory-slates with cave-symbols, Stella lit torches once watchers’ light touched their wicks, Emma and Sophie placed watcher-figures at seedling roots, Scarlet braided thread around central seedling. Children watched solemnly, copying gestures.

Watcher-lights thickened, pulsing across sapling tips. Mist brushed shoulders. Jude raised arms. "We bind cave and mountain, watchers and seed, memory and future." Their voices lifted in watchersong, winding through saplings. Watchers shimmered in answer, light arching above ring, vines rustling with thankfulness. A hush ended ceremony; watchers receded, leaving ring glowing with power.

After breakfast of flatcakes and sweet porridge, Jude divided workgroups: group one, Susan, Rose, Emma, Zoey, Scarlet, to weave watcherscript tapestry at orchard entrance; group two, Serena, Layla, Natalie, Lucy, Stella, to carve glyph-stones and harden them in firepit; group three, Jude, Grace, Sophie, children, to tend seedlings with dew-water and inscribe cave-symbols in bark-board journal.

They worked through midday. Group one wove tapestry emerging with cave-memory glyphs spun in watchersilk and dyed threads, spirals pulsing under sun. Group two carved stones with watcherscript cave runes and pressed them into heated sandpit, hardening each under watchers’ light. Group three filled journal pages with sketches of watcher-cave patterns, notes of symbols, dreams of Laurel’s voice as bridge.

By late afternoon, they reunited beneath fig-glyph tree. Tapestry hung between two elder saplings. Glazed glyph-stones formed a ring around base. The journal lay open before them on woven cloth, pages flapping in gentle wind. Children clustered, wives held hands, watchers glimmered above. Jude stepped forward.

"Tonight we hold council and commitment," he said. "We record our duty as Keepers of memory and guide watcherscript into living daily life." He lifted tapestry. "Our story now hangs here." He gestured to glyph-stones. "Our stone runes stand guard." He closed eyes. "Tonight we vow our work, our weaving, our carving, our tending, into every sunrise." Wives and children echoed watchersign of vow.

Evening came with collective hush. Torches lit under watchersilk canopy; firepit glowed. The air pulsed with watchersong and watcherscript vibrations. Jude recited watchersign incantation: memory flow, covenant binding, future planting. Wives responded in echo, weaving glyph-language into declarations. Children repeated single words: memory, seed, watcher, cave, mountain.

Afterwards they ate together: stew, fruit, buttered flatcakes. Conversations soft as moss. Wives touched each other’s hands gently. Grace leaned into Jude. "We’re shaping a way for the island to remember through us."

He nodded. "Yes. And soon, we’ll teach watcherscraft, chants, runes, ways to speak watchersign with heartbeat."

Scarlet smiled at the children as they spun small glyph-stones, burying their fingers in cold stone and watchersilk threads. "They’ll carry it forward," she said.

Night deepened. Wives led late ceremony at seedling ring, replaying watchersong that matched cave-memory melody. Laurel hummed, voice bright under lantern glow. The watchers hovered, pulsing full circle around ring. Torches flared then settled. A hush like remembrance filled the orchard.

Wives touched seedlings, then stepped away. Children knelt and laid stone runes around ring perimeter. Watcher-light painted stones gold-blue. Jude stepped forward and placed journal before central stone. He touched inked pages. "Our story is more than this soil. It lives in memory-record, watcherscript, and child’s heart." He gestured to wives. "You are Keepers. Today, tomorrow, until mountain stands still and watchers fade."

He pressed hand to tape. Each wife touched his hand. Children echoed watchersign. The watchers above pulsed once, light handshake across saplings. The orchard exhaled.

That night they each slept at canopy edge, wrappers around feet. The watchers drifted overhead in gentle arcs as lullaby. Jude held Grace; babies between them; wives encircled, faces glowing by last watcherslavetorch. Laurel dreamt watcherscript dances, humming in sleep.

Dawn came slow. The orchards shimmered with dew and watchers’ memory-light. Wives and children rose, weathered but steady. Jude and Grace led them to ring. Ceremony of daily watchersign began anew, seed-lace, ribbon, stone, memory-journal. Children spoke cave-symbols aloud. Wives carved new pages. Watchers draped soft arcs of light across them.

By midday they gathered at firepit, circle of wives and children growing: Sofia, Rose’s child; Emma’s twins; Natalie’s boy. Six more seedlings of the future. They taught watchersign together, a song woven from cave-chant and seed-chant, watcherscript melody and rune-beat. Wives guided children’s fingers across glyph-stones. The watchers joined with soft pulses echoing child voices.

Jude watched, chest full. "This is our covenant living," he whispered to Grace.

She smiled and squeezed his hand.

Later they broke bread under fig-tree. Conversation light but fierce with promise. Each wife spoke of meaning they’d found, learning watchersscript from cave; carving glyph-stones; weaving tapestry; naming their child gifts anew. Children skipped with stones, laughing.

At dusk they assembled again, final ceremony of the day: carry the journal and glyph-stones into orchard glade; hang pages on ribbons between saplings; press stones into soil; drape tapestry over low branch. Wives stood silent until watchersign was spoken. Then watchers pulses flared, light arched, vines twined tapestry with branches as though growth determined by watchers. Children clapped softly. A hush that breathed knowledge settled.

Jude took the first page of journal, stepping forward. "This is the Book of Memory, written by wives and children and watchers, story of cave, mountain, island. We bind today’s memory into tomorrow’s sunrise." He pressed it to the central stone. Wives followed. The book glowed dimly then sealed in soil with root.

He looked over the seedling-ring now shimmered with glyph-stones and tapestry border. "We choose this path. Guided by watchers, with Laurel as our witness and bridge. We are Keepers."

They bowed as watchers pulled back, retreating through mist.

Night came deep, and the orchard quieted. Children slept. Wives whispered around the fire until embers died. Jude and Grace slipped inside together, closing the door on watchersilk light. They lay between soft blankets. Outside, watchers drifted once more.