( c r i m s o n letters )

My sister,

How has time treated you since last we spoke? It seems like years have passed, yet it has only been months since you were married and travelled with your new husband to the capital. What is it like there? I hear women are under fewer restrictions, if their husbands allow. What sort of man is yours, I wonder, does he throw you balls or does he throw stones like they do here? A distant cousin of my friend, Amber Hue, was stoned last week. Adultery, they say, but they say very many things and she had just become leader elect of the Women's Front. Every will to fight that we may wield, are they simply trying to rid themselves of it?

If he throws you balls, Little Ruby, then dance in honour of your freedom. If he does not, honour it regardless.

Your sister,
Crimson




Little Ruby,

Should I congratulate you on your pregnancy? I did not let you go so as to give you heavier burdens to bear.

Me, I bear buckets of water and baskets of laundry, but at least only in my arms that I can reclaim as my own, if I do not fear death. You will be bearing this child beneath your heart, inside your body, you will have to cut into yourself to carve it out now. Is this how they subjugate us, in the end, men? They place something of theirs, of themselves, that they singlehandedly have ascribed value within us and tell us we are only worth what it counts for.

You are more than this baby, my sister. You are more than the stock he puts in you. Never forget.

Yours,
Crimson




My Little Ruby,

Winter is almost over, soon spring will emerge in full bloom and you will give birth. Are you afraid? Too many women give their lives on the battlefield that is their maternity bed. Should I not tell you, I fear you will count among them? I do, sister mine, I do.

That is why I will rise up, I will not wait any longer. With Amber Hue stoned, the Women's Front seeks a new leader and I have volunteered to be next in line. Even if it kills me, Little Ruby, as it shall eventually, I will fight for women's right to not slave and die for their male masters. I will fight for your right to hold full autonomy over your own body and for men to only put things there that have been invited. I will fight for you, Little Ruby. As you march towards your birth as were it the battle-ridden borders, know you are not marching alone. I will be there next to you. I will fight for you till my dying breath.

Let us pray, ours will not come too soon. Let us pray, we will get another chance to join our hands together.

Sincerely,
Crimson