Chapter 1131

That night, all twelve wives stood with Jude at the basin's edge, torches lit, the stars low and heavy above them. The jungle circled them in silence, waiting. Watching.

Susan stepped forward first, chalk and oil in hand, and began drawing watcherscript across the inner walls of the basin. Not symbols of protection or warning, but of presence. Of belonging. As she worked, the others began to hum, low, steady notes that mirrored their breath, their hearts.

A song of twelve voices, woven around one man.

When the last symbol was drawn, Jude stepped into the center and raised the broken shard. "This island hears us. It remembers. And now it will remember this."

He dropped the shard into a bowl filled with water and ash. The moment it sank, the watcherscript flared gold. Not blue. Not red.

Gold.

The basin trembled.

And then it answered, with a voice like wind through every tree, a whisper that touched every skin.

Not Elyara's voice.