Silver Winds

Chapter 3

"He who would accomplish little must sacrifice little; he who would achieve much must sacrifice much; he who would attain highly must sacrifice greatly." -James Allen

"Right," Volos proclaimed while pacing back and forth on the dirt in front of Astra, "we only have a month before training. And because Father said I have to go with you, we're doing this thing my way. We're going to train. We're going to make friends."

Astra's jaw dropped. "Friends? Volos, are you mad? We haven't gone to town during the day since . . . well, I don't know. But it's been a long time."

"Well," Volos retorted, "we need to gather enough people that we'll have a Munrskipan when we go to training. You know that. The only way to do that is to make friends."

"But-"

"No buts, Astra. You wanted this, now I'm going to go through with it. Come on, up you go. We're going today, and that's that. Grab that bag. I've packed a few things we might need in it."

Astra lifted the bag from the crate it was sitting on, moving her limbs in an encumbered fashion because she didn't want to. She opened it even though Volos was tapping his toe, and looked inside. There were two long knives, a few throwing knives, and a small packed lunch. Astra saw that Volos had the same bag as she. She stood, her lips transforming into a grim line.

"And you're going to have to . . . adjust a few things before we go," Volos said. "You have to cut a bit of your hair, and you're going to have to wrap a certain lady part of you."

Astra blushed, but frowned. "Why do I have to cut my hair?"

"Because no man has his hair that long. My length is pushing it."

Astra looked horrified. Her jaw hung agape, her nose had scrunched up, and her eyes were wide.

"I don't want to," she protested. "I've been growing this forever."

"Well, do you want to get into Mistport's, or no? Because if you do, you have to look like a man. There are only a few options on how to do that. We're lucky you don't look like a lady, but you still look female. You have to either cut your hair, or we have to give you a scar," Volos said. "There is absolutely no other way to do this. You have to cut your hair, because I'm not giving you a scar. Hair grows out, but scars don't disappear. Ever."

Though the prospect of a scar, on her face, if that was what Volos had been suggesting, was terrifying, she still did not want to let go of her hair. She frowned. But if she wanted to travel . . .

"Fine," she growled, yanking a throwing knife out of her bag. She gathered her ponytail into one hand, and sliced it through so the end of her ponytail reached the base of her skull. She stared at the fair strands in her hand, and her heart clenched. Her teeth ground together as she attempted to keep her eyes from stinging. She glared at Volos, though he was blurry. "I'm not cutting it any shorter."

"That's fine," Volos replied, looking over his fingernails. "Now, go and wrap yourself. Put on a larger shirt, so you look bigger. And put on my other pair of boots. Stuff the toes with something, but your feet need to look bigger."

Astra nodded, throwing her hair into the woods before heading inside. Anything she had to do now to look like a boy, she would. The worst was already over.

She threw off her shirt the moment she entered her room, and got out a knife. She had never had to hide her breasts before, so she needed some strips of cloth if this was to work.

Astra pulled out one of her cotton shirts. Cotton would bind them, but would also give her a little room to breath. She cut it into long strips. Then she removed a hook from another article of clothing to attach it to each end of the wrap.