Last chapter before I go away for three weeks. It's shorter than I wanted, and I don't know how well the ending fits. I just wanted to get the name in, as it will be useful in the next chapter. I've decided to just do like, snap shots of Nana's life, the most important parts. It'll be easier, and shorter, that way.
ShadowBlaze: Wow, you are more dedicated to this fic than I am, I think. I took your advice, again. You've never steered me wrong before.
He returned them to the room. Nana was in hysterics, crying and screaming in Hawaiian. Nothing he did could calm her down. Finally, he grabbed her by the neck, waving his free hand over her eyes. She calmed a little. A trick that would have easily knocked out a human barely made her calm.
Pushing her away gently, he turned and strode into an unseen door. When he came back, he had a white, linen dress in his hand. "It's Fala's," he whispered, "but I think it'll fit you." She just cocked her head and furrowed her brows.
Jager helped her out of the grass skirt, tossing it onto the floor. Then, he slipped the garment over her head. It was tight all around her nearly hourglass figure, her dark skin and tattoos showing through the thin material. He smiled at this. She'd have to beat down men with a stick.
"Now, what shall we do with this language problem?" he asked her, circling around her like a hawk over a mouse. She just smiled and began to hum softly. He circled a few more times before, snapping his fingers, he yelled, "I have it! We'll take you to the witch!"
The smile vanished from Nana's lips. Whatever he had said, it sounded very harsh. And painful.
He grabbed out for her, but she shrunk away from his touch. "Oh, come on," he growled, "let's get you the gift of tongues." He lunged and grabbed her wrist. The violent transportation took them to another stone building, this time with windows, the light poured in from all directions, reflecting off the beautifully painted walls. Nana loved it, Jager hid from it.
Instantly, a women joined them, stopping when she saw them but continued after seeing their faces. "You only come at night, Jager," she said flatly, trying to hide her feeling of joy at his visit.
"I need a favor," he stated plainly, getting right down to business.
That made the woman stop in her tracks immediately. "Taking up my offer on the Gift of Tongues?" she asked, raising an eyebrow.
"Yes," he nodded, "but for her." He pointed at Nana, who was leaning out of the window, looking at the wonderful river view.
The woman huffed, "And why should I give this gift to her? She's probably just another one of your lovers turned vampire."
Jager approached the woman. "She is, Amara. I found her on an island far away." Amara rolled her eyes. "There's life outside of our area."
"Oh you and your search for life on the outside..."
"She's a priestess," he breathed. "Think of all you'll have in common, once she knows the languages. She could help you translate all your ancient texts."
The thought of such a think made Amara smother her comment in her throat. She would be useful, no doubt. Maybe she could just give her the gift.
***
An hour or so later, Jager transported them back to their little house. "Can you understand me?" he asked nervously. This had better have worked, he thought.
Nana breathed, ready to yell, when she stopped herself. She understood Jager, for the first time in years. "Yes, I understand!" she squeaked, running to Jager and throwing her arms around his neck.
"So, what do you want to be renamed?" he asked, taking in the smell of her.
"Alaula. It means Light of Dawn," she laughed.
He pulled away. "No more light. How about the word for moonbeam? What's that?"
"Konane, but that's my sister's name," she looked down at the ground and walked off to a corner. She found a white flower, dieing alone. She picked it up and showed Jager. "What's this?"
"It's a Magdalene," he answered without even thinking.
"Our word for it is Makelina. That can be my name."
And so it was.