Stuck in an Island with Twelve Beautiful Women
Chapter 972

Chapter 972: Chapter 972

Twelve wives nodded, children shifted on blankets, hearts steady. They had grown into this world’s mysteries.

They prepared offerings: boulders carved with glyphs, woven ribbons, petals pressed into wooden bowls, seeds from the high mountain meadows. Each wife chose something personal, a promise made tangible. Susan plucked a silver fern from the creek; Zoey brought river-smooth stones; Rose picked lavender buds; Emma sealed memories in pigment-stained bark; Scarlet tied an arrow dipped in mountain water; Sophia bound palm leaves; Serena braided herbs; Layla plucked blossoms; Grace dressed in petals; Natalie cooked bread; Lucy embroidered a cloth; Stella carried two shells; Jude carried watchers’ shard and the last of the honey bread; Grace held his hand.

They stepped beyond the saplings. The watchers formed lines along the way, silent guides. They reached the spiral stones just beyond the orchard’s border. The stones now formed a full circle around the fig-glyph tree, each ribbling with watchers’ glyphs. In the center lay the single white flower, still fresh. Jude knelt and brushed dew from its petals, then placed seed bowls at its four cardinal points. Grace released birdseed around the circle. The wives knelt with them, hands touching grass, fingers tracing stones.

Jude spoke with simple words. "We stand beyond orchard’s edge. We accept watchers’ invitation. We stand as caretakers, not conquerors." Grace echoed him. One by one, the wives also spoke, very softly, vows of stewardship, memory, care. Each voice wove into the gentle dawn. The watchers pulsed at stone edges, then drifted close enough that Jude could feel the breath of their presence.

A watcher moved to the flower’s center and bowed, and massive quiet settled over the orchard. Birds paused. Sunlight paused at the horizon. Then like a ripple, light shimmered along watchers’ forms. The flower glowed. The watchers closed in, as if gathering strength.

Jude stood and lifted his hands to the sky. "We stand together."

With that, the watcher nearest the circle opened, its mist parted, form clarified, but not human. Taller, ancient, like living glass. It raised its quiet arms, and the watchers all mirrored. Light poured from their shapes into the circle, dissolving tension, weaving in watches, mountain, earth. Then the watcher-form moved backward, dissolving into mist that drifted away. A ripple of confirmation.

The wives remained kneeling until the circle of light dimmed. When they stood, something inside them had shifted, something unified, deeper than ceremony or vow. They stepped back, carrying their tokens, watchers drifting into trees, edge, sky, the orchard a living memory.

They returned to the orchard without celebration, but with quiet smiles. Gardens called for tending. Fish nets needed repair. Children’s laughter rose. Jude found Scarlet gathering new ribbons among saplings, Serena sorting water vessels, Layla humming as she braided petals. Each task took on brightness, weight, meaning. They embraced the day’s ordinary work with grand tenderness.

That afternoon, Jude and Grace walked to the well stone. Ribbons had been added overnight, flowers woven into the glyphs, watchers’ petals braided in. The glyph glowed softly. When Jude pressed his hand, the stone pulsed in return. He knelt and planted the watchers’ shard at its base, covering it with soil and kisses.

"We anchor memory," he said. Grace nodded and wrapped his hand in hers.

They returned to camp and found the wives preparing a feast. Grace led Jude to the central firepit. They sliced bread and passed bowls of stew. When he reached for Grace’s hand across the flames, she squeezed it.

Then Susan stepped forward. "We want to offer something more."

The wives formed a line. Scarlet held a carved staff; Zoey a ribbon of woven grass; Stella a bowl of mountain water; Layla a wreath of flowers; Rose incense; Emma pigment scroll; Serena a pouch of seeds; Natalie a fern; Lucy a cloth; Sophia feathers. Each took a turn offering to the firepit, a symbol of life, memory, promise.

Jude took the staff destined to become the Watchers’ Staff, carried by the new sentinel of the watchers. They built a silent altar of tokens. Then Grace lit the incense.

A hush again. The watchers drifted close, shapes forming at border. The fire pulsed in response. The wives lit candles at each sapling. The flame of shared vow burned steady.

Jude caught Grace’s eye. She nodded. He lifted his voice: "We remember, we honor, we stand." They spoke it together, voices echoing in dusk.

The watchers responded with gentle mist, curling among saplings, touching candles, leaving small pools of watcher-glow by ribbons.

That night they slept with blankets near the firepit. Watchers shimmered nearby, distant but watchful.

At dawn, Jude walked alone to the boundary. The mist lifted off orchards. Watchers now floated calmly, not thinned. One drifted forward, followed him to the spiral stones, then stopped. It looked at Jude’s scarlet arrow, gift from Scarlet, and touched it, dissolving into light.

Jude touched the stones. Each glyph glowed under his fingers. One deep glow pulsed, a ring in the distance. He saw mountain outline emerging through mist. The watchers formed patterns pointing upward.

Grace emerged behind him. "It points to the summit again."

He nodded. "But this time we go anchored."

That afternoon, plan was set. Six wives would climb to the summit at sunrise: Jude, Grace, Scarlet, Serena, Zoey, Susan. The others would maintain orchard peace, stand with watchers, and prepare celebratory ritual for their return.

They prepared gear: bread, water, tokens, ribbons, watchers’ carved stone. Each selection was made with intention, no hurry, only purpose. The watchers’ forms glided through camp, silent encouragement.

Night fell. Wives slept under watchers’ shimmer. The summit team lay near the boulder where the cave had been sealed. They slept lightly with watches.

At dawn, the summit group stepped beyond the orchard toward the mountain. Mist washed around them. Watchers led, a luminous line. Each step upward felt like raising vows.

The climb was less steep now, moss soft under foot. Each rock glowed with watchers’ glyphs. They paused at marker stones: Scarlet tied ribbons, Grace laid petals, Serena placed arrow, Susan her fern, Zoey stone, Jude watchers’ shard.