The watchers responded with light, flowing through arches, pooling in floor square stones. Then one watcher stepped toward Grace, handing a single petal wrapped in silver ribbon. Grace took it with a soft gasp. Its color deep as dusk. It glowed.
She placed petal in her pocket. The watcher bowed and stepped back.
When all tokens given and received, watchers melted into the mist. And the old church became still.
The next dawn, they returned to orchard. The watchers appeared at the circle. Each wife waited by her sapling. Grace stepped first, pocket at chest. She released the glowing petal onto the ground. It sprouted instantly, new sapling, tiny and luminous. Next layla planted her petal and it grew likewise.
One by one each wife planted petals. Each sprouted. The watchers hovered, forms elongated with delight. Light flickered across leaves.
Jude watched tears shine on women's cheeks. They had become memory's bloom. Story's bloom. Life's bloom.