The frog pond was beautiful. The water reflected a perfect blue sky. Leaves shimmered in the fragrant breeze. Water lilies blossomed. Little golden fish traced lazy patterns under the surface.

A young man in a creased brown suit and a fisherman's cap paused beside the lake, pretending to take in the scenery. He drew a small blue stone out of his pocket and -- glancing about to ensure no one could see -- tossed it with a [i]plop[/i] into the water. He grinned to himself; he'd come back for it later, in the dead of night, after the search parties had been called off and his guilt was exonerated. Already he could hear a couple of the guards dashing across the courtyard, no doubt just realizing the stone's disappearance.

The young man adjusted his hat and stepped away, whistling an innocent tune -- when a voice made him freeze.

[i]I wonder how old you are . . .[/i]

He turned his head, peering back at the pond. Was it . . . glowing?

Quickly, he scanned the rest of the courtyard -- but none of the guards or servants were anywhere nearby. No one was even looking at him. What kind of security was this, anyway? He scratched under his hat, then stepped forward tentatively, pushing the visor back away from his face. He squinted at the glowing water; he thought he saw a shadow moving there, but maybe it was just a fish.

It definitely wasn't a fish.

"Is someone there?" he asked skeptically. He was talking to a pond. This was rock-bottom. "A nymph, maybe. It's all right, you can show yourself. I don't mind nymphs."