Chapter 965
They gathered supplies: breads, wines, dried fruits, carved tokens, fresh flowers. Each wife selected a gift for the mountain, a branch of lavender for healing, a braid of riverine willow for gentleness, a stone etched with their family crest, a small leather pouch filled with soil from their own hearth.
Scarlet strapped down a polished river rock, water-smooth, while Serena tucked a vine cord in her belt. Layla placed a shell by her side with the inscription Remember. Emma rolled a scroll of earthen dyes into a leather tube. Lucy bound her own braided hair into a token.
Jude chose the watcher glyph shard and a loaf of honey-bread as his offering. Grace brushed kola-nut powder onto a carved wooden heart. Together they were the mountain’s pledge, tear and renewal, memory and protection.
They stepped through the orchard, watchers drifting alongside but not intruding. The sun climbed steadily, shadows shrinking. As they reached the boundary, where the waterfall once roared and monsters lurked, they paused. The watchers held their positions, silent colleagues.
Jude turned to the wives. "From here, the mountain is its own world. Let’s honor it."
They ascended in pairs, group of eight, rising along the winding stone path. The valley narrowed; trees thickened; rocks shifted underfoot. Every step echoed from the mountain’s center, low vibrations that hummed in the soles of boots. Grace’s grip tightened, eyes bright.
Scarlet frowned. "I feel roots under stone."
"It’s the mountain breathing," Jude said. "Let it rise."
They reached the slope where they’d carved names before. Now, glyph pieces and ribbons had woven into living ivy and moss. The watchers had set each sacrifice into the stroke of growth. Stair after stair, the path before them glowed faintly. The island was responding.