My eyes sprang open, and instantly, I felt an overwhelming sense of fear. I quickly surveyed my surroundings; my alarm justified. I was located next to a glassless window with a sea view. An undersea view!

Rapidly, my eyes blinked as I watched shoals of fish swim past my line of sight. I could hear my heart pounding in my ears. How was this even possible? I inspected my feathers. They were dry. But everywhere around me - water!

I realised I was once more a prisoner - I seemed to be making a habit of becoming incarcerated. This time, I found myself in a shoddy cage made of driftwood, no less.

The only thing it had going for it was the fact it was roomy. Its base was weighted with stones and shells and laced over those, slippery kelp which my claws struggled to grip without being coated in a slimy, gooey substance. It felt quite revolting. 

I eyed the spars of twisted, gnarled wood, trying to gauge where there were any weak spots. Surely with a decent effort, I would be able to escape this prison.

A hiss came from my left. I hopped round to see the female Naga from the shore staring at me. Her reptilian eyes appeared to be pulsing as her pupils adjusted to the light filtering through the wreck. Her face rippled, and as she moved around the cage, her gaze never leaving me, I saw her entire form become ridiculously misshapen.

I paid closer attention to the woven spars, inspecting them from top to bottom. Then I saw it; the cage sat within a giant bubble. The Naga's body had reflected on the prismatic surface, explaining the distortion as she swam. I reluctantly admitted, this reformatory bordered on ingenious.

With that realisation came the true terror of my predicament. To try and escape would mean my demise. If I burst that bubble, I would not be able to breathe, and as I was no doubt quite deeply submerged, I would drown for sure before reaching the surface.

At this point, I sorely wished I had eaten a bloated corpse in Southshore instead of trying to snare fresh crab.

The Naga circled twice more before coming to a stop in front of me. Although the bubble still distorted my view, I was afforded a better look at my captor.

Having lowered herself on her ophidian tail, she did not seem as tall as she had on the shore. Closer inspection also informed me facially she was not as snakelike as I had first thought. Yes, her nose and mouth did bare the semblance of a serpent; however, I could still make out characteristic Elven features. 

Her neck, cheeks and forehead were covered in small iridescent scales, but they did not detract from the beauty she had once been. The eyes nevertheless, were undoubtedly Naga - and fierce.

"Atijshaz ni who sha what ti are."* She said, tilting her head at me. 

I hopped back a little in the cage, my feet delving into the slime and slipping down between the stones. 

She laughed, then circled me again. 

Deep in my brain, I knew I had a smattering of Nazja - the language of the sea - but it was insufficient to carry a full conversation. Luckily, I understood the gist of her question; she spoke in a mixture of Nazja and the racial languages used by both Elves and humans. 

The problem; how could I answer? I doubted she could communicate in a series of avian chittering. Did she, like Lunk, have an affinity with creatures? 

I answered telepathically. "I am searching to find those very answers."

Apparently, that was not a method of communication she could understand. She repeated her question - a little more forcefully. This time I gave a series of clicks and caws in response.

She hissed loudly and slammed the cage. Even underwater the hiss of these creatures was unnerving, dulled not in the slightest by the watery surroundings. 

I shrank to the back of the cage, trembling. I felt as helpless now as I did when I was trapped under the stone of the Dark Portal. 

But, I could figure no way out of this situation.  I confess, despondency prevailed.

*****

Nazja - the language of the sea:

*"Atijshaz ni who sha what ti are." – "Tell me who, and what you are."