Stuck in an Island with Twelve Beautiful Women
Chapter 1040

Chapter 1040: Chapter 1040

He squeezed her hand. "And tomorrow, we begin teaching island travelers, the first to learn watcherscript dream. We sow not just seedlings but new keepers."

She nodded as watchers’ light flickered across temple wall. Ol all around, seedlings echoed, ribbons spun still.

They entered temple together, hands clasped, steps soft across glowing runes. Children awaited with dream-gems ready; wives gathered with small scrolls of dreamscript teachings. The watcherscript dream movement official in form; fruit of covenant blossoming fully. The island’s dream, carried by watchers, children, seed, temple, wives, man, woven into living story, seed and stone, dream and reality, memory and future tied in watchersign glow.

Mist still clung to the orchard when Jude emerged before dawn, the watcher‑lights dim and patient among the seedlings and watched ribbons. His boots touched softened earth as he crossed to the temple platform. Laurel stood beside him, glowing faintly with dreamscript memory, clad in watcher‑thread braid. Grace followed quietly, Raven in one arm, and their small procession gathered at the stone threshold. Twelve wives arrived, each carrying what felt essential, bowls of dew and spring water, coils of dream‑ribbon, petals, memory‑slates, dream‑gems, watcher‑figures, torches not yet lit. The children clustered nearby, clutching painted dream‑tiles and seed‑runes, wide‑eyed in the pre‑sun darkness. The air smelled of moss and possibility.

Jude inhaled the hush. "Today," he said, voice low as lung‑breath, "we teach dreamscript to all who come. We set watcherscript path beyond our grove. We open the island’s heart to dream‑keepers." He glanced at each wife in turn: Susan, Rose, Serena, Layla, Natalie, Zoey, Lucy, Stella, Emma, Sophie, Scarlet. Each nodded: slow, sturdy bows of pledge. Laurel placed her dream‑gem at the heart of the platform, nestled in a crescent of watcher glyphs. Jude pressed his palm to its warming surface as watchers overhead stirred. A pulse in light rolled and thickened until the platform glowed.

Then they moved in ritual procession, dream‑gems, ribbons, runes in tow, across orchard grounds. Wives sang watchersong for sunrise; children repeated dream‑rune names and watchersign gestures to open pathways marked by stones and dream‑ribbon stakes. Jude followed, Laurel tucked into his side, Grace at his other arm. At each marker they stopped. Serena tied dream‑ribbon around sapling; Lucy read watcherscript runes; Rose scattered petals; Layla dripped dew; Zoey brushed glyph paint; Natalie poured spring water; Emma and Sophie placed dream‑tiles in dirt; Scarlet braided red strand linking dream and watcherscript. The watchers nodded from above, arcs of light weaving meditative patterns, pulsing each gesture.

By midday they reached the boundary where orchard met forest, there, wives and children shaped a ring of stone markers, dream‑script inscribed across their tops. Children sang dream‑glyph names; watchers responded with shimmer. Grace beamed as Laurel stepped forward to teach younger kids watchersign for "dream‑keeper." Mothers guided hands as watchers light pulsed in each gesture. Two new stones were set into ground; watcherscript glyphs sketched on their faces. The first travelers, the wives’ friends, emerged from forest path: music‑makers, basket‑builders, gatherers from half the island. They halted upon seeing ceremony, hands clasped in reverence.

Jude greeted them quietly. "You are welcome among dream‑keepers." He explained watcherscript path, dream‑ribbon marking the way, open to learn, to dream, to hold memory. Travelers listened with solemn faces. Children repeated watchersign; wives guided visitors’ hands over saplings, rain‑damp stones, dream‑tiles. The watchers pulsed across badges embroidered on clothes, linking strangers to island seed.

Lunch was communal on woven mats under fig‑glyph tree. Wives served flatcakes, roasted tubers, sweet berry tisane. Travelers met children shyly; joy took root. Grace introduced each wife quietly: "Susan teaches watchersign; Rose songs; Serena ribbons; Layla petals; Natalie dew‑blessings..." Visitors quivered with empathy for covenant’s woven life. After lunch, classes began while watchers drifted above. Wives took responsibility: Serena led dream‑ribbon weaving workshop; Zoey painting dream‑tile scenes; Lucy watcherscript runes; Stella torch‑calling ceremonies; Emma and Sophie led watcher‑figure carving; Layla guided meditation by seedling ring. Visitors joined with care, families following. Watcher pulses thickened circle by circle.

By afternoon, stories were shared. Travelers described dark storms at other island corners; families fractured from nonsense; children frightened by roving creatures. The wives shared watcherscript dream-lore: stones guard memory; ribbons hold hearts; seeds carry light. Jude looked on as Laurel showed little ones watchersign gestures, her voice mesmerizing. Watchers above pulsed in response, arcs of light weaving across forest glade. The tension in visitors shifted to tears; gratitude wounded hearts opened. Because their people could dream again, could hold watcherscript in laughter and stone and seedling. The island itself sang through watchers and memory now.

Late afternoon they formed second procession back to temple footing. Dream‑tiles carried on cloth‑pallet; wreath of ribbons carried on staff; runestones carried by travelers and children together. Watchers glowed overhead in arcs brighter than midday sun. Wives and visitors sang watchersong as they circled the temple foundation three times. Torches were lit by Stella with watchersscript spark, flickering blue flame that danced in canopy shadows.

At the temple interior ceremony, children laid dream‑tiles and runestones in alcoves, Jubilee: travelers tied dream‑ribbons to ribs, each marking their pledge. Laurel hung her listening‑stone gem at hearth base. Wives gathered around, touching dream‑gems. Jude raised his voice for vow: "By watcherscript and dreamscript, we bind ourselves and all our guests to honor memory, to teach dream‑keeper ways, to tend hopes in living seed. We vow to open temple each month for dream‑keepers’ gathering." He looked at travelers. "You are invited." They nodded, tears bright: "We accept."

The watchers pulsed healing light; dreams soared. The wives and children sang watchersong together in layered harmonies, echo chants of cave‑memory. This sound had never been in orchard until now. Light responded. Temple walls glowed. Mist drifted in gating arches. The watchers retreated slowly, leaving cohort of dream‑keepers new‑born.

That evening a feast was held outside temple. Firepits scattered. Flatcakes, stew, roasted game, berry wine. Families shared new songs; children danced; wives watched. Laurel spun between Grace and Jude, dream‑ribbon in hand. Elian approached with travelers, presenting a carved runestone