Some sixty feet or so further along the wall, sat the most remarkable sight of all; an ancient dragon lay curled up asleep against the icy mass, as moisture dripped onto its head from a set of stalactites, high up on the vast ceiling. Looking as though it were on its deathbed, all across the dragon's body, scales were missing, hanging off or just ragged around the edges. Holes through the membrane in its wings stood out like windows into another world. Outlines of bones beneath its scales were visible all over. As it slept, its breath wheezed in and out, like some kind of nicotine ridden pensioner, while all the time its entire frame shivered and mumbled incoherently, not at all like the mighty beast it should have been. Littered on the floor around it were signs of the abuse it had suffered over a seriously long period of time: dark claws that had been plucked out, along with shattered, shiny, white tooth fragments, lay frozen for all to see. Worst of all though was the tip of the dragon's tail. The last two feet or so had been hacked off in some dreadful deed, and stood tip down, embedded in the ice, just out of the dragon's reach.
Further along, in the darkest recess, was another human shaped dragon. Naked except for a hole littered, shredded pair of raggedy trousers, shivering against his cold, metal manacles, he squatted in the darkness, occasionally flexing his taut, honed muscles. Long, dirty, scraggy hair flowed halfway down his back, frozen solid in places from the extreme temperatures. His toned body looked like that of a boxer, muscles taut and shiny. A noticeable blue mark that looked like a tree of some sort adorned the left side of his chest, right over where his heart would have been, if he were truly human. Unlike the other human shaped dragon, this one kept his counsel, not having uttered a word in his time here, much to the disappointment of his captors. Horrific torture of every kind had been used against him on a regular basis, but had long since proved fruitless. Much like the other captives, he was abused by the guard who appeared infrequently, delivering scraps of foul food. Currently he was sporting the mother of all black eyes, a broken finger and what felt like two broken ribs. Numerous other minor bruises and cuts littered his body, but despite this, he still flexed the muscles he could, biding his time in the hope of returning to the life he'd once known.
Of the four, the human shaped dragon scientist was by far the most nervous, constantly wailing and crying, begging to be released by his invisible tormentors. Although seemingly resigned to his fate, the naga king was clearly on the lookout for the right opportunity to escape. The dozing dragon just looked like it was just waiting to die, whilst the prisoner in the darkest recesses constantly exercised in silence, as much as his bonds would allow.
Against the backdrop of the scientist's wailing and pleading, and the sleeping dragon's rattling breath, the constant sound of running water from a deep and chilly underground stream, not forty feet away, echoed throughout the cavern. It never stopped. Twenty four hours a day it gurgled and spluttered, tormenting the four captives in an entirely different way to their jailers.
* * *
Somewhere above the freezing dungeon, inside a gloomy cave carved into the side of Law Dome, Flash lay on the cold, rocky floor, hands bound crudely behind his back. A few minutes earlier he'd regained consciousness, but was currently trying to make out that he hadn't, whilst taking in his situation. Blurring his vision, his head rang like a bell, presumably from being hit by the nagas' gigantic tails. Despite being sheltered from the worst of the weather, the cold tore at him in ways that he couldn't previously have imagined. His outer clothing had been taken, leaving him in only the black, thermal base layer that he'd donned earlier on in the day. Also his boots were missing, but his thick socks, despite being damp, still covered his feet. The only thing in his favour so far, was the fact that his watch still clung to his freezing cold wrist, the metal strap burning his aching skin. Unfortunately his attackers had taken his laminium ring and necklace.
So far he'd managed to gain a limited amount of information, lying curled up on the hard floor of the cave. From what he could tell, he was right up against the back wall of the narrow cavern, which in itself looked to be about one hundred and fifty feet long. Through its entrance, he could see a torrent of snow steadily accumulating outside. Between him and it was an ever comforting fire, flickering and crackling as it danced towards the high ceiling, the smoke blanketed the cave, blown ever inwards by the howling gale outside. It was all he could do not to cough violently. Sitting either side of the fire were the gold-coloured naga from earlier, and a human wearing his missing clothes. Having studied the tracks on the ground, he assumed that the latter had to be the purple and blue naga, because the markings in the snow on the cave floor at the entrance showed what looked like a naga trail abruptly turning into a set of footprints. The surrounding snow was a little scuffed up, leading Flash to think that the naga had changed into human form, and slipped on his precious clothing. Carefully, he fiddled with the restraints behind his back, trying hard not to make any noise and alert his captors to the fact that he was awake. Abruptly he stopped, hearing the two of them talking. Try as he might, he couldn't make out what they were saying over the crackling of the fire, and the ringing in his head. Opening his eyes just enough to look through his long eyelashes, he could just see the two of them arguing about something, through the thick, blue tinted smoke of the fire.
Racking his brain for a way to escape, the problems he had were two fold. With his hands restrained behind his back, he had no way of being sure the poison darts from his watch would hit their intended target. On top of that, it didn't seem likely to him that the darts would pierce the nagas' thick scales. They would almost certainly deal with the human shaped naga, but the one in its natural form probably wouldn't be affected at all. Desperately wishing the ringing in his head would stop because it was driving him to distraction, and he needed his wits about him, in case an unexpected opening to escape should present itself.
A tinny laugh bounced around inside of the cave.
"We know you're awake... dragon!"
Knowing it was pointless to pretend any longer, he rolled over, trying unconvincingly to sit up against the back wall of the cave, causing the ringing in his ears to get worse, his brain feeling as though it was being pummelled by a hammer on a hot anvil. Feeling the coolness of the rock on the back of his head, forced him to open his eyes and look at his two captors.
Smiling at his captive, the human shaped one tugged the collar of Flash's stolen jacket tighter against the cold as he did so.
"What's the matter, not coming up to join us by the... fire?" mocked the gold-coloured naga, the gills on the side of his head contracting furiously as he did so.
Flash continued to stare ahead.
"You'd think, being a dragon, he'd want to come and appreciate the warmth a bit more," chuckled the human shaped naga.
Flash's mind was full of a million questions he wanted to ask, but he bit his tongue. Decades of training told him he'd get nothing useful out of these two, and if he started to talk, just maybe he'd let slip something important that could aid them, due to the cold and the ringing in his ears. Resting his head back on the icy wall behind him, he closed his eyes, albeit not fully. As he listened to the crackle of the fire, savouring thoughts of being warm in the past, he tried to puzzle out what on earth was going on. Missing scientists, dragons turning back to their true form in the Antarctic, nagas, being captured... none of it made any sense.