Father would have me hanged if he knew. But he should be none the wiser.
Anhad called to me this evening, whistling like the evening sparrow from the garden below my window. He pleaded with me to join him and I could not resist. Silently we snuck past the night guard, through gardens, over walls, out of sight, down to the docks where I paused for a moment in amazement. They were ablaze with activity, I couldn't believe my eyes. While the rest of the city slept, the docks positively hummed with activity. I'd never seen them at night.
Anhad grasped my hand and snapped me out of my stupor. He led me down a secret path running next to the docks out past the last ship. From there we could see the bay stretching out before us. Its rippled surface sparkled in the light of Ateph. It was more beautiful than I could have imagined. We could see ships entering the bay, their sails like pale specters against the jewel-filled night sky. It was Anhad's plan all along for us to go swimming. Swimming, of all things. Father would lose his mind. He's forbidden me to swim, he says it's inappropriate for a young woman.
Anhad has promised to teach me but tonight he guided me down to the shore so I could wade in up to my waist. The water was like a warm bath and Nirdu fish nibbled at my toes as I walked. Anhad swam out past the pier, so far I could barely make him out against the glimmering water. I've heard there are massive fish that linger out there, waiting for a ship to drop scraps or for someone to fall overboard, but now I think those are mere tales people tell children to keep them from swimming.
Why would they want to keep anyone from doing this, it's incredible. I will certainly teach my children to swim in the bay one day.