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The fae didnât really understand time as mortals did. The thing that lived under the glade certainly didnât. It was vaguely aware that sometimes humans came and sometimes they left, and when they came that was a Fresh Man, and when they left that was a Graduation. It was less clear on the finer details, but what it boiled down to was an ever changing variety of prey to sniff out and play with. That was all most humans were to it; something to hunt for food or entertainment, whichever struck its fancy.
Most of the creatures it was acquainted with, then, would see it preparing for the party and assume it was hungry (or bored, as the case may be). They would be wrong. True, it wouldnât turn down a snack, if it was convenient, but it had other plans for the night as well. Rosalindâs graduation party was supposed to be a small, intimate get-together for those who knew Rosalind best. It had decided that after three and a half years of surveillance, it was one of those who knew Rosalind best, and invitation or not, it deserved to be there.
So here it was, disguised as a handsome youth with dark hair and glittering brown eyes, walking towards the clearing in the forest as if it possessed one of the few invitations Rosalind had seen fit to send out. Someone stopped it just as the lights came into view.
âSorry, I need to see your invitation-â the girl began, hand already on a poker thrust through a belt. The creature turned its gaze to her, giving its best imitation of a friendly smile. It probably looked grotesque, but the glamor did its work, and the girl withdrew her hand, looking slightly dazed. âOh- never mindâŠâ she trailed off, as if expecting a name. It would need one of those, it supposed.
âWindcutter,â it said, gracing the girl with another smile. She blushed, waving it through. It was that easy. It was always that easy. It frowned for a second. Was something strange? It dismissed that thought nearly immediately. It was just imagining things, distracting itself from the reason it was here.
The newly christened Windcutter swept its gaze around the party. There were little lights in glass bubbles- faerie lights, he remembered dimly from some conversation. The mood lighting was entirely lost on something with perfect night vision, but it highlighted Rosalindâs face as she hopped down from a tree, brushing off her clothes. Unconsciously, Windcutterâs hand went to its shoulder as phantom pain tingled down the equivalent of its arm.
It was supposed to be easy. The mortalsâ minds did most of the work for it; once they hit the glamor, they would fabricate details to cover up any of the little holes. The trick, it had learned, was to add some mild imperfections- these days, the students were wary of anyone too pretty. It had worked for- well, for however long it had been before Rosalind came along.
She was Gar then, one of the Fresh Men, and her roommate had been Koi. Oddly, it barely remembered what Koi smelled like, just that when it saw her at a party, it had deigned it the superior of the two. It had been simple to flirt with her, throw up enough charm that anything it said would attract it, that no warning bells had gone off.
And when Gar had left the party, gone into the back alley, and found it with what remained of Koi, it had been childâs play to send a wave of glamor at her so strong that it wouldnât have been surprised if Gar had let it consume her as well. It was, understandably, a little surprised when Gar pulled a solid-iron knife and stabbed it. The surprise was nothing compared with the pain, though, and it had⊠well. It was embarrassing, but it had run, crawling under the glade to metaphorically lick its wounds. It had been mildly perturbed to find that even after it healed, any form it took had a little silver line of scar on the shoulder.
That was how the story ended, somehow. Gar had turned to the knights, and then turned herself to a knight. Somewhere along the way she became Rosalind, and all along the way the creature watched the mortal being that had wounded it for the only time in its long, long life. Its feelings were somewhere between fear and fascination- it had never bothered to follow up on any mortal before, but it had watched as Rosalind declared her major (in âbiologyâ, but everyone knew she was Forbidden Major), had chartered a truce between some of the forbidden majors and the courts, had disappeared for three weeks and reappeared looking haggard but none the worse for wear. This was its last chance to see her up close, so for tonight, it was not hunting. It was⊠mingling.
It approached one of the party guests milling around. The boy smiled at it as it lightly prodded its influence to surround him.
âHey,â he said. âItâsâŠâ
âWindcutter,â Windcutter supplied.
âRight, Windcutter, fromâŠâ
âSchool."Â
"Windcutter from school,â he said, blinking and nodding. âI remember, yeah. How are you?â
This close, Windcutter could see the freckles on his face, smell the sweat on him, and it had to remind itself that it was there to see Rosalind, not to hunt. The boy was still smiling, it realized, waiting for it to answer as it stared hungrily at him.
âI am well,â it said, a truthful answer. âAnd you?â
âLooking forward to the rest of the night,â he said, leaning conspiratorially towards Windcutter. âI think youâll really enjoy it.â
âBond,â said a clear voice that Windcutter had listened to for three years, âare you monopolizingâŠâ
âWindcutter,â Windcutter said again, turning the full force of its smile to Rosalind. Once again, it had the nagging feeling that something was off, and it had to resist the urge to scratch its shoulder.
âAre you monopolizing Windcutter?â Rosalind finished.
âNot if you want to talk to them,â Bond said. He flashed another charming smile at Windcutter, who made a mental note to see if he could be lured into the woods. âIâll just go take care of other business, shall I?â
âSure,â Rosalind said, rolling her eyes. âAnd make sure that the guards are on alert!â she yelled after his retreating form.
âGuards?â Windcutter said, tilting its head coquettishly to one side. It was just as well that it had glamor to cover for it- it could never remember how far humans were supposed to be able to do that. âIs something the matter?â
âWell, friend,â Rosalind said, then squinted quizzically at it. âDid I never tell you about this?â
âI believe not.â
âHuh.â She looked down. âWell, my friend, this may sound crazy, but I believe that something has been watching me for the past few years.â
âWatching you?â It could have laughed.
âIt sounds farfetched, yes, but⊠I can feel its eyes on me, sometimes. I think I know what it is, too.â
âDo tell,â it purred.
âDo you remember my roommate?â
âKoi, wasnât it?â
âYeah.â Rosalind looked away. âKoi. Well, something took her freshman year.â
âHow terrible.â It couldnât decide if it was relieved or disappointed; relieved it was in no danger, disappointed that Rosalind was so far below its estimation.
âI found her,â Rosalind said. âAnd that thing standing over her. It tried to make me⊠I donât really know. Forget, or stop caring, but I was so angry that it just washed over me, and I stabbed it, and it ran.â
âHow brave of you.â The creature shifted in place slightly. Something was definitely strange here. It felt⊠it didnât know. Something.
âI didnât really have much choice,â Rosalind said with a laugh. She drew a sword, idly flipping it in her hand. âIt was instinct. I think if it was anything else, I wouldnât be here today. Whatever it did- did you know, somehow it had managed to make her take off her iron and salt?â
The creature knew, of course it did, it-
Wait.
Rosalind was no fool. She couldnât be, in order to have lived this long as a knight or a Forbidden Major. Protection was basic enough that even the newest and most naive knew to have it, to demand to see it.
And it had gotten this far without any protection at all. No lines of salt, no running water, nothing. The fact they hadnât touched it with iron or salt could be put down to its power, but not the basic, rudimentary safety procedures for an outdoor party.
Alarm bells started ringing in Windcutterâs head. Who held a party outside, in the woods, in the dark?
âWe were close, did you know that?â Rosalind continued. She still wasnât looking at it. âShe even told me her true name. Trusting to a fault."Â
"I⊠should go,â Windcutter said. It had ignored its instincts for too long. Something was wrong.
âIt was Rosalind,â Rosalind said. âI never forgot.â And then, finally, she met its eyes.
Windcutter jerked back, a hiss of revulsion bubbling from its throat. It was not Rosalindâs eyes in her face: they glittered as if cut from gems, and, worse, it knew somehow that she could see it, really, see it. It felt suddenly like a butterfly pinned to paper, trying to squirm away from that horrible perception. It turned, still hissing, to see Bond returning, armed with a spear. He wasnât smiling anymore, and now that it was looking, it realized that his eyes glittered similarly. All of the partygoers eyes did, they- they could all see it-Â
âA little deal with the Spring Queen,â Rosalind said conversationally behind it. âThree weeks of my time to serve her, and for every day, an hour of Sight and a clear mind for someone at my little soiree.â
It bolted then, half-mad with the eyes of the party boring into it. It sprinted into the woods, then screamed as it hit the salt line, scrambling back on burning feet. Of course there was a salt line now. They had lured it in.
âTell me,â Rosalind said as it whirled. She was on guard now, sword out and willing. âWhy did you watch me?â
âNever been hurt before,â it said, the truth being dragged out almost against its will. This wasnât supposed to happen. It was supposed to be above its prey.
âReally.â
âYouâre leaving soon,â it said. Offering a deal was something it hadnât done before, but it needed a way out, and Rosalindâs speech had given it an idea. âLet me out and I can promise you youâll forget what happened to her. You can let go of the anger.â
âWho told you I was leaving?â Rosalind smiled, all teeth and no friendliness. âMy classes are over, but Iâm staying. Someone has to make sure beasts like you donât hunt for too long.â
The creature hadnât ever really had to fight; nobody had armed themselves against it, after all. Its claws slid out almost involuntarily as the fear and rage flowed through it, rendering it incapable of human speech. It hissed again defiantly.
âThatâs right,â Rosalind said, her voice almost hypnotically soothing. âItâs you or me. One of us leaves tonight, the other one stays here forever.â Without moving her eyes from the creature, she jerked her head over her shoulder. âThe salt line has a break in it behind me. Get through me, and you can leave.â
Frightened, cornered, the creature growled deep in its throat and unthinkingly sprang.
Crafted by a primordial air elemental lord in ages past, the Windcutter was a gift to mortals who fought to preserve the planar balance against fallen angels and other malevolent celestial beings.
Legends say that the Windcutter is currently hidden in an ancient elf pyramid that is floating across the elemental plane of air. Any mortal who claims it can become a peerless warrior of the skies!
What do you think? :)
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Royal Academy of Science of Khaenriâah
Project: Black Serpents - Windcutter Initiative
Research Log #001
Lead Researcher: [Name Redacted]
Date: 22/13/1459
The Black Serpents were developed as an elite autonomous soldier unit, designed to operate with both precision and agility. Unlike traditional automatons, these units were engineered with an Anemo-powered framework, enhancing both their mobility and adaptability in combat. Their purpose was twofold: eliminate high-priority threats and engage fortified adversaries, particularly those utilizing defensive shielding techniques.
The development of the Windcutter Variant introduced a novel blade manipulation system, allowing for increased offensive versatility. These units were not only capable of wielding swords with expert-level proficiency but could also launch spinning blade projectiles and perform whip-like slashes, overwhelming opponents with unrelenting speed.
Design & Functionality:
Anemo-Powered Combat System â The Windcutters utilize Anemo energy to enhance both mobility and offensive capabilities, ensuring rapid repositioning and attack execution.
Adaptive Strike Mechanisms â The units execute both two- and three-strike blade combos, delivering high-impact Anemo-infused slashes. Against shielded opponents, Windcutters adapt by increasing attack speed and power.
Blade Projection System â Equipped with Whirling Windblades, allowing the unit to launch multiple spinning sword projectiles before retracting them for further strikes.
Tactical Maneuvers & Countermeasures â When an attack is fully absorbed by an enemyâs shield, the unit sacrifices 15% of its current vitality to gain a temporary power buff and the ability to blink-evade the next incoming strike.
Swiftwind Arsenal â The unit can generate and fire six projectile seekers, tracking and overwhelming enemies from a distance.
Strategic Deployment & Weaknesses:
Windcutters were assigned to high-security divisions of Khaenriâahâs military forces, serving as elite guards of the monarchy and strategic enforcers. Each was trainedâor rather, programmedâwith an advanced sword art known as "Truthseeker," emphasizing precise, relentless strikes.
However, the design carries inherent risks. Their reliance on Anemo energy leaves them susceptible to disruption when their power flow is interrupted. Additionally, their aggressive counter-shield tactics result in self-inflicted energy loss, making prolonged engagements costly.
Operational History & Legacy:
Records suggest that these warriors once stood alongside the Twilight Sword, with some of their number lost to history following the collapse of Khaenriâah. Surviving units were later encountered in the ruins of The Chasm and other forgotten battlegrounds, their programming still compelling them to fight for a kingdom that no longer exists.
Some Windcutters bear distinct designations, such as:
Edgetho, Breaker of the Oath of Silence
Buliwyf, Guardian of the Desolation
Rethel, Slain of the Split Bow
Ynghildr, Sword of a Lost Homeland
Despite their fractured directives, they remain fearsome warriors, remnants of a dying empireâs final stand.
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I have been really confused on these 2 things. 1) How does The Windcutter attack a enemy? 2) Can the QuickSword cut from far? (It happened during the time Clare, Galatea, and Jean vs Dauf. Clare cut Dauf from far like when Jean was using her Drillsword and was trying to stab it into Dauf's neck.)
1.) Just like Quicksword. Multiple, rapid strikes of the blade, so quick they canât be seen.
However, Windcutter is slower than Quicksword. While you donât even see Irene draw her blade in using Quicksword, you see both Clare and Flora grip the handles of their swords in using Windcutter.
Quicksword is faster while Windcutter is more precise.During the Pieta Arc, Flora states that they are about equal in power, although I like to believe Quicksword is stronger.
2.) It can cut within proximity of the sword and owner. In that particular scene, Clare focuses her energy on striking Daufâs arms only while avoiding Jean.