| Icon | Name | Rarity | Family |
 | Glimpses of Mysterious Inazuma (I) | 3 | loc_fam_book_family_1061 |
 | Glimpses of Mysterious Inazuma (II) | 3 | loc_fam_book_family_1061 |
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Glimpses of Mysterious Inazuma (I)
 | Name | Glimpses of Mysterious Inazuma (I) |
| Type (Ingame) | Quest Item | |
| Family | loc_fam_book_family_1061 | |
| Rarity | | |
| Description | A collection of Inazuman folk stories transcribed by a traveling writer from Fontaine. Its pages contain a wealth of myths and strange tales passed down orally by people from all over Inazuma. |
| The Mysterious Maiden of Genbou A long time ago, there lived an official named Takehiko. Refined and elegant, this young man trained himself assiduously in both the cultural and martial arts, garnering the respect of his peers. One day, while visiting the home of the illness-stricken Emon no Kami, "Chief of the Gate Guard," Takehiko chanced upon the Chief's only daughter, a young lady named Sayohime. In the prime of her youth, Sayohime was as graceful in manner as she was beautiful to gaze upon, her every smile and gesture flowing with innate elegance and natural grace. It was love at first sight for both, and so deeply were they enamored that they secretly pledged their lives to one another behind her father's back, planning to formally propose their marriage as soon as they came of age. The years slipped by, yet before long, rebels began to stir up trouble. Takehiko resolved to follow the Shogunate's orders and join efforts to quell the rebellion. Upon hearing of his decision, Sayohime rushed to meet him. Tearfully, she said: "You will soon depart for the war, with no promise of when you may return. The battlefield is perilous, and I shall be cursed to wait alone. If you truly love me, then stay by my side, and grant me the honor of being your bride. I harbor no grand ambitions for glory, prestige, or wealth, and only wish to spend our lives together, happy, and in health." Afterwards, Sayohime recited a poem on the spot, which may be translated as such: How deep the suffering, how bitter it is to yearn. My sleeves are soaked through with anguished tears. Like autumn's morning dew, I will scatter as dust in the mirror for you. But Takehiko was unswayed by her plea. He replied: "Do not mourn our parting, beloved, it is but temporary. If I lived a thousand lives, for you I would keep my loyalty. We are born into the world in our proper time and age. How could I sit idly by and watch while a war is waged? I will return from battle with victory in my wake, then your hand in eternal union — our marriage — I will take." Having said this, Takehiko gifted to Sayohime a hand mirror of exquisite craftsmanship to be held by her during their wedding. He too bequeathed unto her a poem, which may be translated as such: Though my long quest may have no end in sight, neither does this oath to my future bride. Though the earth may see us a thousand miles apart, we share the same starlight that binds our loving hearts. And so they were separated; and so did months pass. A rumor spread of the defeat of the Shogunate's army, and how many soldiers had been grievously wounded or slain. The news devastated Sayohime, who took ill in her despair, and before long died of a broken heart. Takehiko returned from the war a hero, only to hear of his beloved's tragic passing. Wracked with uncontrollable grief, Takehiko made offerings to her with incense and fruits every single day. However, perhaps because she perished with such intense longing in her heart, burial proved insufficient to lay Sayohime to rest. Instead, she became corrupted by the Abyss, returned to the mortal realm as a demon, and visited Takehiko in the dead of night. Though she retained the youthful beauty of her corporeal visage, her new form had been stripped of vitality. All that remained of the tender hands that used to caress Takehiko's cheeks were bony appendages, darkened by death. Takehiko was a samurai, but the sight of this apparition sent him screaming in fear from his bed. He fled to the riverbank, begging a boatman to save his life by ferrying him across to the other side. By the time Sayohime caught up, no boats remained by the water's edge, so she leapt into the river, her legs turning into fishlike fins, and gave chase. After fleeing to Mt. Yougou, Takehiko, with magic learnt from the bake-danuki, hid himself inside a stone. There were as many stones scattered across Mt. Yougou as there were stars in the heavens. No matter how hard she tried, how could Sayohime possibly hope to find him? Just as she was at a loss, she dropped the hand mirror that Takehiko had gifted to her, all those months ago. It shattered on the ground, its shards all reflecting the stone that Takehiko had hidden himself within. Hugging the stone close, Sayohime wept bitterly as she expressed her undying love for Takehiko. She begged him to remember the oaths he had made to her, but Takehiko was still too frightened to reveal himself. At her wit's end, yet unwilling to be separated from her beloved once more, Sayohime turned herself into a raging ball of flame, consuming both herself and the concealed Takehiko, till they were naught but ashes. After finishing the tale, with great interest my friend asked me what I thought of it. "Speaking from our Fontanian perspective," I answered, "I find it doubtful that Takehiko truly loved Sayohime. The lovers we sing of in our operas are inseparable, even in death. If one should pass, loyalty would drive the other to join them. From Drest and Adsiltia's promise, to the duel in Tancrede et Chariclea, and even the farewell between Coppelius and Coppelia, this trope is a constant. If memory serves, we've an old fable that defines love like so: Even after all flesh, bone, and entrails have been sliced away, I still lie nestled with you in the marrow that remains. Takehiko promised a thousand lifetimes to Sayohime — even if she was corrupted by the Abyss, he should have joined her in eternal slumber. As a proud samurai of Inazuma, Takehiko should know the value of promises and oaths better than any of us." "Well, that's not wrong. In Inazuma, many people see Takehiko as a coward and a traitor to his beloved. However, it is not because he didn't return Sayohime's feelings. Rather, when faced with a demonic entity from the Abyss, Takehiko chose to run and hide inside a stone instead of offering her salvation. In the end, he was revealed by the very mirror he gave to her, and was burned to ashes. I suppose that's karma," my friend said while refilling her cup of tea. She continued, "It is said that this tale was originally inspired by a novel from Liyue. In that story, the protagonist never betrayed their lover, and the two were unable to meet for a long time because of the interference of evil-doers who transformed the girl into a monster and imprisoned her beneath a stone... Well, that's a bit distant from this version of the tale. What I'm more curious about is what'd you do if faced with similar circumstances. Suppose I was turned into a monster by the Abyss, and started haunting you, begging you to keep telling me stories..." "If your first instinct after being turned into an Abyssal monster was to come find me for storytime, that'd mean you were completely fine. After all, you're much more of a handful than Sayohime was in the story. Anyway, Miss Usa... I just so happen to have finished this cup of tea. Would you mind getting me a refill?" |
Glimpses of Mysterious Inazuma (II)
 | Name | Glimpses of Mysterious Inazuma (II) |
| Type (Ingame) | Quest Item | |
| Family | loc_fam_book_family_1061 | |
| Rarity | | |
| Description | A collection of Inazuman folk stories transcribed by a traveling writer from Fontaine. Its pages contain a wealth of myths and strange tales passed down orally by people from all over Inazuma. |
| The Yumekui-Baku A long, long time ago, there lived an elderly couple near Konda Village. Although they were poor and their lives were hard, they remained compassionate, and so earned the respect of their neighbors. One snowy day in winter, the old man of the house went into the mountains to gather firewood. He came across a plump little beast entangled in a hunting trap. No matter how much it struggled, it could not break free. It could only squeal in distress — a heart-wrenching sight, if ever there was one. "Poor thing!" the old man thought, his heart full of sympathy. "How unfortunate for such a young boar to be caught in a hunter's trap like this. So small, it wouldn't even make a good meal... What a waste of life. Let me lend you a hand!" So the old man put down his axe and helped the wild boar undo the ropes that had caught it by the trotters. The little boar squealed and ran several joyful laps around the old man, before running back into the forest. After collecting enough firewood and returning home, the old man told his wife about what had happened. She was pleased to hear it, and said: "Well done, dear! Once that wild boar grows up nice and fat, we'll catch it and have ourselves a feast!" That night, the elderly couple were just about to sleep when they heard a knocking at the door, along with the gentle, mellifluous voice of a young woman: "Excuse me! Is anyone home?" How could there be someone outside in a snowstorm as harsh as this? The old woman rushed to throw open the door, revealing a girl who looked to be around seventeen or eighteen years old, braving the wind and snow. Her beauty was striking — though dressed in humble garb, she had a natural radiance, not unlike an adeptus straight out of a Liyue fable. Seeing this, the old woman was overwhelmed with pity, and cried out: "Mercy me! Such snow, you must be freezing! Come inside, let's get you all warmed up. I don't know whose daughter you are, young lass, but what brings you here so late?" "I'm truly sorry to disturb you at such a late hour. My parents, unfortunately, have passed away. According to their will, I was to seek out a friend of my father's... But I didn't expect to run into weather like this, and I ended up getting lost in the snowstorm. If you two would be so kind as to let me stay the night... I don't mind sleeping in the corridor, or even in a storeroom." Hearing her story, the elderly couple took pity upon the poor girl, and let her stay in their house, giving her both food and a bed to sleep in. Perhaps because of this good deed, both the old man and woman were graced with beautiful dreams that night. In the days that followed, the snowstorm did not cease, and the elderly couple continued to let the young girl live with them. During this time, the girl tended to the couple's daily needs. Both diligent and considerate, she completed each task with meticulous attention to detail. The old man and woman were delighted. One day, the girl suddenly said to the elderly couple: "As I mentioned, before my parents passed away, they entrusted me to a friend of my father's. Yet though they are a family friend, I have never met them. I don't know what kind of person they are, or if they're willing to accept a burden like me into their life. You've taken such good care of me all this time, and I don't know how I could ever repay the favor. If you would not object, I would love to be taken in as your daughter. Although I'm just an ordinary girl, I'm willing to do my best, however little that may be, to look after the two of you from here on out." Hearing her words, the elderly couple were overjoyed. Having no children of their own, they had suddenly gained a daughter who was both intelligent and considerate. They could ask for no better blessing. From then on, the old man and woman treated the girl as if she were their own daughter, and she returned the favor in kind. Whether in front of others or in private with her new family, she was the very picture of filial piety. After some time, one morning, the girl offered the elderly couple a tray of irresistibly delicious-looking pastries, the likes of which they had never seen before. She said: "While you were sleeping, I made a little something, following a recipe passed down by my family. Please, take these pastries to the town and sell them in the market — I'm sure they'll be very popular." Just like the girl had said, the miracle pastries were a roaring success among the wealthy merchants of the town, and sold for a fittingly high price. From then on, every morning, the girl would make some pastries for the elderly couple to sell. With the profits rolling in, the family began to prosper. After this had happened several times, the elderly couple could not help but be curious. How could their daughter make such exquisite delicacies when all they had in their house was flour, and ordinary flour at that? Eventually, they could no longer contain their curiosity. That night, when the girl was making her pastries, they spied on her through a crack in the door. Yet their adopted daughter was nowhere to be seen; only a plump little beast, using its snubby nose to snatch floating dreams out of the air, then turning them into pastries. The elderly couple were shocked, and the little beast, sensing their presence, quickly reverted to the familiar form of their daughter. Throwing herself down at their feet, she cried: "I am terribly sorry to have frightened you, my dear benefactors! Since you have already seen my true form, I shall not keep my secret any longer. In truth, I am the baku that you rescued on the mountain, all those days past. In order to repay your kindness, I took on the appearance of a young girl and sought you out. I've been taking your nightmares and turning them into pastries, so that you may sell them for a good price." "Oh my!" cried the old man. "You're that wild boar from back then!" "Firstly, I am a baku — well, technically speaking, a 'mo' — from Liyue, not a wild boar. Secondly, since you now know my true form, if word of this spreads, my mistress — the one who oversees countless sweet dreams and nightmares — will surely not look kindly upon my recklessness. The two of you might also be implicated because of me. I am truly grateful for all the care you've shown me in the days I've been here, and I am sorry for having caused you such trouble. Even so, my wish to become your daughter was sincere... Though I am afraid such a request is likely impossible in this lifetime. So please, allow me to bid you farewell." "A baku, you say? A mo...? Nope, never heard of it. Ah, I don't care if you're a human or a wild boar, you're still our darling daughter!" "I am truly thankful for your kind words. But if others learn that there is a baku here, it might spell disaster in the near future. Also, I am a baku, not a wild boar." "Bah, what's that got to do with anything? If you don't tell anyone, nobody'll even know you're a... What was it again? Bakumo, right? Also, rearing wild boars is hardly something out of place around here!" "That does make sense, when you put it like that. But remember, I am a baku, not a wild boar." And just like that, the young baku stayed by the elderly couple's side. With their daughter's delicious pastries to sell, the old man and woman spent their twilight years in comfort and prosperity. And they all lived happily ever after. |
Our majesty "Tsaritsa" Bronya is the most likely :)