Lady of the Lake
Atticus sat on a particularly large stone, gazing down into the lake, smiling. He reached down and touched the surface to create a pattern of ripples.
In response, from the silt and gloom, a black-hued creature, vaguely human in shape, arose. Large, pupil-less green eyes peered up. With a smile full of sharp, pearlescent teeth, the creature playfully bit at the surface, as if inviting Atticus to reach down again.
“I am so proud of you,” the villain said. “How many heroes have you caught with your lady of the lake routine this month?”
The monster made signaled 7, winked, and swam away.
“So proud,” Atticus murmured, mostly to himself, watching the waters settle, the algae soak in the last of the dying sun’s light. Fireflies and will-o-wisps rose from the lake and surrounding forest before he left.