Outside the Chasm
"Big Brother! Brother Boyang!"Rongzhao ran toward Boyang, waving his hands frantically. No matter how much he called, Boyang didn't respond at all.
This made him doubt whether the figure before him was truly his brother or merely an illusion.
Following closely behind Rongzhao were the Millelith captain and his soldiers. They squinted at the figure ahead and finally recognized Boyang.
The captain's eyes narrowed. As he examined the figure carefully, his pupils trembled.
"That's… Ritualist Boyang?!"
Impossible. Boyang and the unnamed yaksha had been sealed inside the Chasm, never to emerge.
Yet here he was, standing before them.
There was no time for questions now—the most urgent thing was to approach and assess the situation before making any decisions.
"Big Brother! Hey!"Rongzhao reached Boyang and touched his disheveled hair and prickly stubble. The textures were real, not a hallucination.
It was really his elder brother! Though Boyang's body felt weak, even his face slightly cold to the touch, he was alive.
Rongzhao's eyes darted nervously toward the Chasm's seal. After confirming, it remained intact, his lips curled into a relieved smile.
Big Brother had truly returned! And without disturbing the seal!
But his elder brother's gaze seemed distant, lost in sorrow. If left alone, he could remain trapped in that inner turmoil forever.
"It's me! Rongzhao!"Rongzhao shouted anxiously. Big Brother had finally emerged—he couldn't afford for anything to happen now!
His wife and daughter had wept for days because of Boyang's sacrifice to seal the Chasm.
A few seconds later, Boyang, coaxed from his guilt and self-blame by his brother's voice, looked at Rongzhao with a faint, hesitant smile.
Seeing that his calling had reached Boyang, Rongzhao exhaled in relief. But then, questions tumbled out uncontrollably:
"Big Brother! How did you get out?""And the unnamed thunder yaksha… is he alive?"
Boyang only shook his head slightly. The expression on his face quickly soured. He sighed deeply.
"It's a long story…"
"No worries, Big Brother. Let's return first and rest. We can talk about everything later."Rongzhao nodded eagerly. Big Brother had just returned—he needed rest more than answers.
Carefully, Rongzhao helped Boyang to his feet, moving as though afraid his brother might shatter.
"Take it slow, Big Brother. I'll get you out of here."
A strange warmth filled Rongzhao's heart. This was his brother—though they often quarreled, he was family.
In these times, no one wanted to lose family. Especially a brother who had chosen to remain trapped deep in the Chasm for their sake.
"Are you two alright?"The Millelith captain and the soldiers, who had been lagging behind, finally caught up. Rongzhao had run so fast that dozens of them couldn't keep pace.
"We're fine. My brother is back. Let him rest!" Rongzhao shook his head, signaling they were unharmed.
"You are… Ritualist Boyang?" The captain stared incredulously. The expression was as if he had seen a ghost.
"Captain, let's talk about all of this later. Big Brother is exhausted," Rongzhao said, giving the captain a meaningful glance.
The captain scrutinized Boyang again. Seeing the pallor of his face, he was taken aback. Boyang's skin was unnaturally white, his eyes bloodshot, his lips trembling.
It was as though he had ingested forbidden substances.
"Quick, find some strong men! Help Ritualist Boyang back!"The captain ordered. How Boyang had come out of the Chasm would remain a mystery for later.
After these events, Boyang returned home, reunited with his wife and daughter.
His brave sacrifice to seal the Chasm earned him praise; the people of Liyue Harbor hailed him as a hero.
The two yaksha he often spoke of were immortalized in the city's chronicles and praised by storytellers. Their deeds were sung by Mondstadt bards and recounted by Liyue narrators. After all, people loved tales of heroes.
Yet as time passed, even these heroes were slowly forgotten.
Heroes might be recorded in history, but even they could not escape the erosion of time.
Many expressed outrage at this fading memory, but no one spoke it aloud.
Guard the land, subdue the demons,
Burdened by karma, yet the Millelith endures; glory spans millennia.
The solitary grave asks not of past sorrows, who remembers former joys? The river flows eastward.
Heroes are hard to find; their souls have no home, dawn unseen, the mountains loom.
All things impermanent; all is suffering.
Fear not the end of the road!
A fleeting life, all else can be relinquished.
Later generations shall write of it.
Years later, most people assumed the two yaksha had perished in the Chasm.
Only a few elderly admirers would occasionally visit the area.
Otherwise, few ventured near the site. Peace had not yet truly come to the world.
Some miners still worked nearby, drawn by the rich mineral resources vital to Liyue Harbor's development. Naturally, the Millelith maintained a watchful guard.
Boyang continued his duties under the guidance of the Seven Stars, often assisting Millelith troops with Rongzhao.
In his free moments, he would spend five or six hours near the Chasm, waiting for the two yaksha.
He believed that since the yaksha had the power to send him out, they would eventually return.
Boyang frequently spoke of the yaksha to his wife and daughter, who eagerly awaited the opportunity to meet the saviors.
When the yaksha finally returned, Boyang promised to take them across Liyue Harbor, sampling fine foods, wines, and teas.
Days turned into months, months into years. Boyang never saw the yaksha return. He had forgotten the face of the beautiful female yaksha, or the masked form of the thunder yaksha.
Even as his hair grayed and skin wrinkled, relying on a cane to move, and his eyes sunk deeply, he would wait.
People often noted the tattered notebook Boyang kept, chronicling his experiences in the Chasm.
He treasured it above all else. Why? Only he knew:
"This records the brothers I cannot forget, and my saviors…"
Boyang regularly ignored warnings and ventured to the Chasm to sit quietly, despite the danger.
Though many had forgotten the yaksha, he remembered clearly. He would not forget them.
If he could not wait, his daughter would. If she could not, then their descendants would.
The ultimate suffering was not death, but knowing they would never return—yet believing, unshakably, that they would…