Stuck in an Island with Twelve Beautiful Women
Chapter 895 - 897

Chapter 895: Chapter 897

They didn’t vanish, they observed. As living memory gestures, they respected the bond formed. At dawn, they’d be gone, or quietly folded back into the forest.

Jude drifted into sleep, hearing voices: "We remember." And the island breathing, solid, endless, welcoming.

They had stepped into the heart. The heart had welcomed. Stone, wood, blood, memory: a seed and a shell become linked. As long as they named themselves, as long as they loved, the island would dream of them, and they would dream the island.

Mist hung over the camp when Jude woke, dawning pale and distant like old ghosts drifting between the trees. He opened his eyes to wet wood, the low hum of rain on broad leaves, and the soft stir of eleven women around him, Grace and Lucy curled against each other, Emma draping across Jude’s hip, Sophie kneeling to fetch water, and the rest preparing roots or kindling. They moved with gentle purpose, as though each morning was a gift reclaimed.

Jude rose quietly, stepped outside the small clearing, and breathed. The forest felt changed, not less alive, but open in a new way. He traced his fingers across the air, tasting moss and sap, old fires, fresh storms, memory. His breathing synchronized with the quiet rhythm of the island. Far off, a bird called, bright, insistent.

He returned to the firepit, where the women had gathered around a low meal of fresh fruit, smoked fish, and sweet tea made from hibiscus petals. They shared small smiles and light conversation, but Jude sensed the undercurrent: last night they’d awakened something ancient and holy.

At the edge of the clearing, Nefertari finally spoke, soft and low. "The watchers... they did not return."

Jude watched steaming fruit. "They respected the boundary we reclaimed."

She nodded. "We reclaimed a part of their world. They reclaimed faith in ours."

Emma held Jude’s hand across the fire. "We offered memory. They offered theirs."

Lucy leaned in. "A covenant between stone and soul."

Food passed between them. The mood was gentle, reverent. Outside the clearing, the trees leaned inward, listening.

After breakfast, Jude drew the group into a silent procession toward the arch. They walked in pairs, close by, each carrying a handful of water from the spring where their tokens still lay nestled. At the arch the water pooled quietly between the stones. Jude poured a libation, watched blue ripples form and dissolve.

"I give thanks," he murmured.

Lucy followed. Grace. One by one they did the same. Their hands brushed tokens left earlier on the arch. Basic rites, whispered spells of gratitude. The stones absorbed them, nearly erased.

Jude stepped through, hands folded behind his back. Behind him, the others followed. They entered the forest as a single organism.

Overhead, the canopy thickened, dappled light fell like confessions. They walked where they’d once feared, now wrapped in calm certainty.

They passed through sites bearing watchers carved in wood and bark, some new, some eroded. Each figure’s eyes looked at them without accusation, silent observations. Some rested in trees, some crouched beside roots. They remained still. They watched.

Jude halted near one figure, shaped like Serena, perched upon a stump. He stepped forward and gently brushed its silent lips: it did not crumble. He whispered, "Still remembered."

Suddenly the forest light dimmed; the canopy shadowed more heavily as though a storm approached. A low rumble rumbled beneath their steps. Nobody spoke. Nobody paused.

Then droplets tapped thinly on leaves, then heavier. Rain began, soft at first, then moderate. Instead of retreating, they pressed forward.

Jude’s eyes scanned the trees. "We go to the boundary."

Grace searched behind her. "Why?"

"Because last night they left," Jude said. "We must choose again, to return or to insist."

Lucy asked, "Will the island breathe at sunset?"

He nodded. "If we ask."

They climbed a gentle slope, the rain turning soft gold as sun broke through steam. Each footstep nourished the roots beneath, each breath a promise.

At the crest, they saw the fence, the glowing field they’d cracked the night before. It arced between stone markers. Flames of dawn ignited it full, barbed with electric pulse. Beyond lay the volcano’s crest, still smoldering. The sky over it bright and calm.

Jude looked at the barrier. It hummed.

He turned to his wives. "This boundary contains memory and dream. We passed it last night. Tonight we choose again."

"But why?" Lucy asked. "Once more?"

"Because we must prove our intention. It wasn’t a single gesture. It must endure. And the island only breathes through gesture."

Sophie pressed her palm to his shoulder. "So we plead to belong."

Grace breathed out, strong. "We plead to remain in covenant, not erase each other with dream, nor be erased ourselves."

Their voices came together, soft and trembling: "Island of life, who holds us in your shell, who bears our names upon your stones, hear us. We stand as memory. We hold. We do not forget. We give offering again, blood, promise, unity." They knelt, pressed hands to earth, shoulders touching, forming an arc facing the barrier.

At their touch, the field shimmered, rose, then retracted. Rain accelerated, thunder rolled, but they remained bowed.

Jude heard a voice within, the island’s chamber speaking: This covenant continues. This passage is remembered. The shell breathes.

They rose, voice low. Each carried a handful of rainwater and scattered it toward the fence. Tokens of yesterday stirred in the wet air. A blue spark flickered in the fence, then winked, and died.

The island sighed. The volcanic glow dimmed.

They turned and walked back down into the forest.

All day they cleared out watchers, carefully, leaving only a few to guard, repositioning them with respect. Each figure represented memory living. They paused at each one, whispered a phrase: You watched. Thank you. We remain.

By afternoon they returned to the camp. The air rested heavy, humid with pollen and fresh rain. They built twelve small fires around the clearing, no walls, no roof, only fire and sky.