Traveler

Everyone charged at once. The Marauders and Yellowjackets moved to intercept the Serpent Reavers as they attacked. Azlyn ran forward, her axe meeting with Baenryss’s and felt Ryssfloh’s presence beside her. The two of them worked together, pushing them back. 

Ryssfloh yelled. “Leave no pirate scum standing! Show ‘em how a Yellowjacket and Marauder fights!” 

The whole group’s morale boosted at the call, and before long the Serpent Reavers were outnumbered and put down. Even with their back up—they were able to cull their blades, and disarm the threats. That was until Braenryss laughed, whistling loud. 

A large black creature flew down, swooping at the groups. Ryssfloh pushed Azlyn out of the way as Braenryss tried to hit her from behind. “Deal with the bird!” 

Azlyn caught her footing, leaving the head pirate to the Ryssfloh. She began leaping up the crates nearby, jumping up into the air to latch herself on top of the large bird. She should have thought this out thoroughly, as she started to hack at the feathers and it’s wings. 

It’s cries echoed in the town, flapping rapidly to throw her off. She just needed one good axe swing down to chop off the wing. Up and up they went, before Azlyn got the opportunity to swing heavily down into the avian’s limb. A splatter of blood later, and both her and the bird were spiraling down into the town. This was the moment Azlyn realized how high it flew up to try and throw her off. 

They both landed with a loud boom in the middle of the battle. The bird stopped moving entirely while Azlyn rolled away. The pain in her leg was severe enough to warrant her attention. 

“By the Navigator!” Azlyn coughed in pain as she tried to make sense of her surroundings. A brown clad individual ran over to her, waving her staff over her body. “What the hell were you thinking!” 

Azlyn felt the warmth of the curing spell over her leg. Maybe that’s the feeling of a broken leg. That was probably why it was hard to move it. 

“It—dealt with the bird—ahhh.” Azlyn winced as she pulled herself up from the ground. Some of the Marauder’s Guild surrounded her to make sure no Serpent Reaver’s tried to attack her. 

“You’re something you know that.” 

Azlyn smiled to Solkwyb, finally placing her healer friend from the guild beside her. “Sorry Solkwyb, I promise to be better.” The Axemaster Wyrnzoen stormed into the circle, holding an axe that had flown down with the separated wing. 

“Gahahaha, get up you brat. Yer work’s not done.” He helped her up, as she tentatively tested her leg. She found herself looking around seeing the battle still going on around them. 

Braenryss screamed in fury as his devil bird died. “Retreat!” He rushed back, with some of his remaining men with him. 

Ryssfloh pushed the assault. “Onward.” He looked to Azlyn being treated. “We’re going to hunt the stranglers. Don’t let your guard down, as there may be stranglers lurking. Nice job job with the bird by the way.” He gave her a thumbs up before charging off. 

The marauders followed his steam. The Axemaster smirked. “Solkwyb with me. We have some pirates to catch.” 

Solkwyb sighed, giving one last wash of healing over Azlyn. “Take it easy. You’re not fully healed.” 

Azlyn nodded, watching all of them rush out. She hoped them a swift recovery and retrieval. 

When she was by herself, she winced. There was a sharp pain in her shoulder as she finally realized what Solkwyb meant. “Note to self—don’t fall from that high.” She said in a salty tone, and looked to the large black bird in disdain. 

A chuckling could be heard behind her—actually it was right behind the Aetheryte Crystal of the town. Azlyn couldn’t remember anyone sneaking past them in battle, so she turned abruptly to see them emerge. 

Dark clad robes, black mask covering his face. His hood up, covering all of his head from view. The strange markings that decorated the sleeves were reminders of the magic this person possessed. He was the one who brought forth the golem to deal with her. 

The Masked Mage spoke. “The source of her strength becomes clear.” 

Taken aback, Azlyn widened her eyes. 

“You may have bested the golem, but you will not fare so well this day.” He raised both his arms up in the sky, as the aetherial energies surrounding him shifted and darkened. Red sparks of energy flared in the bubbling atmosphere as he laughed. A glowing red mask of an arcanic symbol appeared over his mask. Azlyn watched in shock as the entire town was enveloped in the dark energy, potentially blocking out any case of someone coming to back her up. 

The masked mage levitated in the air, his arm outstretched as he began speaking in that otherworldly language. She had a feeling he was summoning another creature for her to contend with. 

As the masked mage finished his chant, the ground erupted in aetheric energy. Azlyn covered her face from the dark forces rushing out from the ground. “Why can’t you speak common like all the other bad guys!” She yelled at last, before seeing the summoned creature arrive.

She was shocked to see two sickening twisted horns, a long gray snout, sharp fangs oozing with saliva from its pulled back lips. A large creature with two flapping devil wings floated up from the portal. It’s hooked shaped form and lanky limbs, from its sharp claws on what should have been its hands and feet. It held a wide sword in one of its claws as it roared at her.

The masked mage chuckled darkly. “Your very existence imperils the plan. You cannot be suffered to live.”

Azlyn narrowed her eyes. “And what plans would that be?”

The masked man held his arm out, commanding the voidsent creature to attack. She never thought she’d see a creature of this scale in her lifetime. She’d read about them in stories long past, but never thought a creature would be in front of her, charging at her with its massive sword.

She rolled away, her whole right side was tingling as a force of energy rippled through the air as she escaped. The masked mage taunted her. “Soon you shall take your vile gifts to the grave!”

Azlyn thought to herself. Gifts? Is he talking about the echo? But how would he… She dodged once more as the creature swooped its blade where her head should have been. She would have to figure it out soon, or she’d really be in a grave.

She tomahawked her axe into what she thought looked like an overgrown gargoyle, then charged in herself to get her weapon back. It was reeling in pain as the axe plunged into its flesh. It raised its arm sword in the air, ready to swing down upon her when she entered his combat zone, but she opted out at last minute.

Concentrating, she started to use her hands to draw out symbols in the air. The masked mage widened his eyes. “What’s this?”

Azlyn smiled, as she plucked a book out from her back pocket. “Arcanima needs a source to run its magic, but it never said it had to be from a magic book.” Azlyn bit her lip, letting her fingers take a bit of her blood off her lips to draw a formulae into her hand. She wondered if the spells would work, given she didn’t have a true medium to cast appropriately, but she needed to do something. 

Something pulled from within her, a strange sensation like she lost something she shouldn’t have lost. Gritting her teeth, she pushed through it and casted several spells from her hand. The first several spells started to work against the voidsent creature and continued her onslaught, noting it getting slower but not quite down.

She shoved the book back into her satchel, feeling the drag of energy pull itself from the aether around her. All she needed was time enough to weaken it, just so she could take back her axe. Even if it might cost her a bit of her own life energy in the process. Azlyn took the opportunity to rush in, lurching forward despite the twisting pain in her head and chest. Leaping up into the creature’s hurt arms, she grabbed hold of her axe, and plucked it out from its chest. The roar was loud, as its arm shot up claw her. She felt the pain of it dig into her arm, but she was able to get a few good blows in near it’s thick neck and collarbone.

It threw her off. She went to land several feet back, but her legs started to feel strange. As if the blood was leaving from her knees. Collapsing to one knee, she coughed up blood.

“Mwahahaha!” The Masked Mage cackled. “Writhe as the venom eats its way through your veins!”

She gritted her teeth, wiping the blood from her lips across her face with her arm. If poison was going to be the death of her, let it happen while she took down this terror of a creature. She shook her head, knowing that probably wasn’t good to do while being poisoned, but lunged forward.

Tactically her plan at this point was to hack and slash and keep hacking at it until it would die. It was all she could do at this point.

“A fearsome opponent—against whom you shall not stand alone!” Azlyn watched as a huge white ball of energy shot forth, and blazed into the gargoyle like creature. She watched in pure shock and adrenaline as the creature that was slowly chipping away at her had finally keeled over.

“Y’shtola—I’m glad you’re here.” Azlyn coughed, wiping the blood from her lips. Y’shtola ran up to her, patting her on the shoulder. A wash of warm energy went through her as the poison and pain went away.

“Come, we have one more to deal with!” She lifted her wand up engaging the masked mage who back up at her arrival.

“An unwelcome guest. No matter, all shall fall before me!” He lifted his arms again, as he started to cast several fire balls at them. Y’shtola dodged deftly as the flames scorched the grounds in front of her. Azlyn meanwhile lifted her axe and swung it defiantly at him. He had to stop casting so he could focus on her.

She got in a few good slashes, as the last one cleaved into his shoulder. He backed himself up, his breath haggard. “No mortal should possess such strength!”

Y’shtola yelled over the spells she was casting. “His power wanes! Afford him no chance to recover!”

Azlyn smiled, charging head first into him. He was anticipating her axe in his face, so he moved to avoid it, only to see a magic formulae form in her right hand. “Gotcha you two colored masked freak.”

Her ruin spell smacked him dead center, cracking his mask and sending him flying back. Azlyn coughed a bit more blood out from her mouth as he struggled on the ground. He groaned, looking at the two of them. “That the wisdom of the Paragons should be brought low—by mere mortals.”

He stopped moving shortly after his head dropped, leaving Y’shtola to examine his words. “’Paragons’, did he say? Then it is as I feared.”

Azlyn turned to her. “Who was that guy?”

Y’shtola frowned. “They are known as the Bringers of Chaos—or Ascians, to give them a proper name. However.” She walked over to the Au Ra, and grabbed her hand to examine the messily drawn circle in blood. Y’shtola narrowed her eyes, reaching up with her free hand to snap her hand over Azlyn’s head.

Azlyn winced at the pain. “What were you thinking?! Using arcanist spells with your own aether? Are you trying to die while young? You don’t have an unlimited bounty of aether, you fool!”

“S-sorry. The arcanists said not to without the appropriate equipment—but he was expecting an axe. Not a ruin spell.” Azlyn explained, she looked at her own blood on her palm. “I won’t do it again. The headache and pain in my chest is worse than I imagined it would be.”

The Miqo’te shook her head, waving her wand all over her. “Side effects of channeling magicks inappropriate. Let this be your only lesson.”

Azlyn nodded. “Understood.”

Y’shtola looked down at the dead Ascian on the ground. She returned to the topic at hand again. “It would seem our suspicions were correct. It is they who have been manipulating the beast tribes.”

Azlyn thought back to when she was younger, remembering how her father talked with Archon Louisoix about the Ascians. It was such a long distant memory that she only remembered it when Y’shtola said the word. It was also strange how that same robed person was in her vision prior to her arrival to Limsa Lominsa, as well as the one time when she was a child where she was thrown back and away from the crystal tower.

“I wonder if the Sharlayans have encountered them before, maybe they have further information on the Ascians. The Students of Baldesion might—” Azlyn spoke comfortably to the Miqo’te who gave her a quizzical glance in return. It was then that she again revealed too much about her.

“Pardon? You would know if we Sharlayans have encountered Ascians before?” She tapped her chin with a wry grin. She was getting curious again. “I have never spoken to you of my homeland. How did you know whence I hail? And the Students of Baldesion on top of it.”

Azlyn groaned, deciding to reveal a bit of her history. “I was raised in Sharlayan. The Isle of Val to be precise. My parents investigated the strange visions I had as a child. But I lived normally, playing with several of the children in the orphanage. Your markings—and goggles were a sign of your homeland to me—I only thought it commonplace.”

Y’shtola grinned unexpectedly. “You were raised in Archon Baldesion’s orphanage! That explains quite a bit now that you mention it. Wait...were your parents Nahz’el and Liliana?”

She looked away. “Yes.” 

It was quiet between them. Several moments went by before Azlyn turned back to her with a small smile. “Strange things have been happening to me as a child, so they tried to do the best they could with what they could find. Sharlayan had more answers than any other place so…”

Y’shtola nodded. “I do begin to see you have been blessed with a special gift. It wouldn’t be odd to say that the fates had quite the role to your upbringing. Right under our noses—so to speak.”

Before they could continue their conversation, Ryssfloh and some of his squadron were running back over. They saw the dead gargoyle in the open courtyard and went a shade paler than usual.

“Are you alright? If I’d known a mean bugger like that was hiding in the bushes, I would have left you a squad or six to keep you company.”

Azlyn waved his concern off, she flexed her arm. “It’s all taken care of. I did what anyone else would have to protect the hopes and dreams this land promises.”

He grinned, swiping a finger under his nose. Behind them several of the Yellowjackets were taking custody of the body of the Ascian. Ryssfloh nodded to them to continue their retrieval. “Well at least now we can call this kidnapping investigation to a close. Those Reavers were the ones spiriting folks away in the dead of night, and this bastard here was pulling all the strings.”

Y’shtola nodded up to him. “A trifle simplistic, but not inaccurate.”

Ryssfloh gave her a confused look, wondering why she was even there. “When did you arrive Lady Y’shtola?”

She explained. “I came as soon as I sensed his presence, but I never thought to find such a scene of carnage. Yet we prevailed. And thanks to your heroic actions, I have learned much.” Y’shtola gave a wide smile over to Azlyn, who looked away from her knowing look. It would appear Y’shtola did learn quite a bit more than what she did before.

Ryssfloh clapped Azlyn on her back, she buckled under the weight. He grinned. “Aye. ‘Heroic’ is the word. I don’t want to think about what would’ve happened if our Bloody Princess hadn’t been there.”

Azlyn flushed a deeper red.

Y’shtola quirked an eye, but grinning. “So you’re the one behind the rumors!” She started to laugh into her hand.

“It was only one time!” Azlyn raised her one finger up to try and explain it only took one opportunity to get such a rabid-rumor based title that spread like wildfire.

Ryssfloh chuckled. “The way she fought valiantly, and the way she brought down the black feathered bird—she was the epitome of regal.”

Y’shtola pointed up to her tiara marred with blood. “It suits you well.”

Azlyn dropped her head. “I’m never going to hear the end of this.”

The captain of the Yellowjackets tapped his hand to his chest and bowed to both her and Y’shtola. He smiled to both. “Thank you—your assistance is much appreciated. Lady Y’shtola please give our regards to the Scions.”

The Miqo’te was holding back her laughter as she nodded.

Azlyn stood there miserably as Ryssfloh bid his goodbyes to finish the rest of his investigations. Y’shtola turned to her with mirth. “I am glad to have played a role in bringing what I hope is the end to these disturbing spates of abductions. And to also find out another fun factoid about you.”

“Please pretend it never happened.” Azlyn rubbed her face in her hands, hoping it would bury whatever shame and dignity she had left.

Y’shtola gave her a warm smile. “Nonsense. I think it rather fits an adventurer like you.”

Azlyn sighed.

The Miqo’te raised one of her arms to her side, demonstrating to the Auri. “I know the threads of your fate forms a part of a most intriguing tapestry. Mayhap we will be afforded the chance to speak more in the near future.” She looked to the returning marauders and Yellowjackets passing the town gate. “I’ll leave teasing you for later. For now, you should see this particular tale to its conclusion. Send my greetings to Commodore Reyner when you do.”

Azlyn nodded, “Thank you Y’shtola.”

She walked away from her, taking her time to say hello to several passing marauders and Yellowjackets she knew before disappearing out of sight. Azlyn walked over to some of her Marauder friends. Solkwyb looked her up and down with a frown. “You look like you’ve been through shite again.”

She waved her wand over her, while Azlyn chuckled. “You guys missed the fearsome gargoyle.”

Axemaster Wyrnzoen started to boast loudly. “Nothing that our marauders can’t handle! Let’s head back to Coral Tower and report our victory!”

Everyone agreed, the long night’s battle had finally come to a close.

As everyone started to teleport away, Azlyn’s attention was taken elsewhere to the ground. It was strange how no one saw the darkness emanating from a darkened crystal. She studied it from a distance, before starting to make her way over. As she approached, a dark energy dissipated from the crystal and completely eroded it’s physical form.

She stared down at the ground, watching it disappear from sight. “Strange.” She murmured, looking up to the sky with a bewildered expression. “Why did it look so similar to that crystal I found in Seasong Grotto?”

No one was there to answer her as the town had grown quiet when everyone teleported back to Limsa Lominsa. Deciding not to keep them waiting any longer, she activated the teleport magic and disappeared into the night.

The soft glow of Limsa Lominsa’s plaza welcomed her. There were hardly any people around as she reached out to the crystal to teleport over to the Coral Tower. The aethernet activated, jumping her over to a rather boisterous tower filled with booming voices cheering for victory. Azlyn walked in with a smile, and everyone stopped in their celebration to look at her.

Axemaster Wyrnzoen beckoned the crowd with his authoritative voice. “Victory—or no words at all!”

Azlyn grinned, as she too joined in the cacophonous voices of everyone celebrating a clear victory in Swiftperch. Commodore Reyner eased his way into the Marauders, reaching a hand out to clasp onto her arm. He smiled broadly at her.

“Azlyn! Eagerly have I awaited your return! Come with me.” He motioned for her to follow him up the upper landing, a bit away from the celebratory chants and excitement. “Word of your exploits is already spreading through the ranks. My troops and I owe you a great debt of gratitude for your timely assistance.”

She smiled. “I’m glad everything turned out well.”

He nodded. “You have shown yourself to be possessed of a sure arm, a strong spirit, and sound judgment. Would Limsa Lominsa had more of your like. I have little doubt that you shall one day join the ranks of Eorzea’s greatest adventurers. It is but a matter of time.”

Azlyn wondered about that. She wasn’t doing this for glory, or for her future assets. She just wanted to help. At first it was trying to make a means of living to survive—but after all this time—all of the people she helped in several of their villages and communities—Limsa Lominsa grew on her. It almost felt like she was back home on the Isle of Val.

“Baderon’s been a great help.” She replied, thinking back to how much he actually set her up for success. She wouldn’t have gotten where she was today without his support.

Reyner agreed. “Clearly Baderon’s eye for potential remains as sharp as ever, though I doubt even he imagined you capable of such feats.” It was then that Reyner asked her about her own retelling of the events that night.

She explained everything as best as she could, from the Reavers rushing in, to the flying creature that she sent spiraling down with her axe—the Ascian who instigated all of the beast tribes to kidnap civilians and how she and Y’shtola took him down along with the summon voidsent gargoyle.

Everyone in the Coral Tower turned to her, and started cheering when she started to get into the storytelling. She pretended to use her axe, and fooling the masked mage by summoning magic instead. Most of them were shocked that she was talented enough to switch tactics as quickly as she did.

Commodore Reyner exclaimed happily. “Y’shtola has been working with us for quite some time, you see. And she was all too willing to assist the Yellowjackets in the kidnapping investigation, proving herself a stalwart ally of Limsa Lomina yet again.” Several marauders cheered.

“Needless to say, after your part in thwarting the attempted sabotage of the Victory, and the small matter of your deeds at Swiftperch, you too have proven yourself a valued friend of the Thalassocracy.” Commodore Reyner thanked her, and more cheers erupted.

The doors opened up in the Coral Tower, a Yellowjacket who had been by the door shouted over everyone’s boisterous chants. “Admiral!”

To say the room’s loud chants died down would be an understatement. Clearing a path, both the Marauders and Yellowjackets moved aside as a tall Roegabyn woman stepped forward. She was dressed in a sleek, black uniform corseted dress with long black sleeves and white cuffs. At her side, was a crimson red firearm. She was well endowed, short white hair like a lions mane tucked behind her eyes. Her face as stern, with a deep shade of lipstick on her plump lips. Her eyes were silver, and had quite the glow. Standing next to her was a decorated Roegabyn officer with red, white, and blue decorums. His goggles obscured his eyesight from the view. The uniform reminded her of a really updone version of the Maelstrom’s outfit.

Commodore Reyner stepped forward from the crowd. Up to the one called Admiral. “May I present to you Admiral Bloefhiswyn.”

The Admiral smiled, her voice husky as she looked down at Azlyn. She said. “So this is the adventurer I’ve been reading about in the field reports. I am Merlwyb Bloefhiswyn, Admiral of Limsa Lominsa. On behalf of my people, I bid you thanks for the deeds you have done this day.”

Azlyn stepped forward, giving her a small curtsy. She remembered her parents teaching her about addressing a leader of a government with respect and care. “Thank you for your kind words Admiral.”

Admiral Merlwyb looked to her second in command, raising her hand for him to approach the young Au Ra. Azlyn waited for him to walk over to her with a stern expression.

“A token of our gratitude. What worth is high regard without just reward, after all? Ha!” The Admiral continued, as Azlyn was gifted with a heavy bag of coin and several miscellaneous items for her usage. She was humbled by the amount given to her. “Since you have set foot in our city, my good friend Baderon and Commodore Reyner have taken turns regaling me with tales of your exploits.” The Admiral smiled, gesturing her arms out wide. “Safe to say, they left an impression. Join me at the coming banquet tomorrow afternoon. A seat of honor at the celebratory feast is the least I can offer the woman who foiled the Sahagin.”

Many of the Yellowjackets and the Marauders gasped at the invitation. Azlyn was startled by the sudden noise behind her. She turned back to the Admiral with a hasty nod. “O-of course—it’d be my honor to join. Thank you Admiral.”

Admiral Merlwyb smiled knowing. “I understand it is well past midnight, but don’t be late. Your fellow guests will be eager to take the measure of their newest hero, and some do not take kindly to being kept waiting. Till then, may you walk in the light of the Crystal.” She turned and walked out from Coral Tower. Everyone saluted upon her departure, while Azlyn was still holding the boon she had been given before.

Commodore Reyner approached. “I am not sure you understand how unusual it is for the Admiral to invite an adventurer to a state banquet. It is a highly coveted honor. Why, even the officers under her direct command are rarely afforded such recognition.”

Azlyn widened her eyes. “Wh-what?”

He nodded. “But you have earned it. Many of the tasks and deeds you have performed for the Thalassocracy have been both difficult and dangerous. Consider this a reward for all your efforts—a nod to your many achievements, both large and small.”

She paled. “This means I need to look presentable.”

Commodore Reyner smiled. “Yes, now you’re beginning to see the enormity of the moment.”

She looked down at her bag of coins she was more than likely going to spend. “Any suggestions?” She asked, stricken with a bit of fear that the banquet was tomorrow. And it was already tomorrow so to speak.

“Baderon can probably arrange something—he’s surprisingly knowledgeable about such things.”

Azlyn nodded. The Commodore then looked around the everyone still in the tower. “It’s quite late indeed, everyone can head back to your stations and enjoy the rest of your night. We all deserve it. Have a good night Azlyn.”

He bid her farewell, and she made sure to bid them all a goodnight. Slowly she escaped to the outside, where she decided to take her time walking back to the Drowned Wench. It almost felt like a dream. One in which she still needed to find a dress to attend a high society event.

The long walk over to the Drowned Wench helped cool off her nervous energy, as she entered the bar. What she wanted to do was go straight to her room to sleep—but she also needed to get something prepared for tomorrow.

Baderon saw her coming over, his grin widening as he welcomed her. “Well—well, if it ain’t Merlwyb’s guest of ‘onor! ‘Obnobbin’ with the ‘igh an’ mighty now, is it?”

She widened her eyes in horror. “Baderon, Twelve preserve help me—I have less than ten hours to find a suitable dress for this event.”

He laughed at her scared expression. “You should ‘ave seen me snortin’ ale from me nose when I ‘eard the news. I’d be glad to help ye.” He laughed at her. “But damn, ye’ve come a long bloody way, an’ that’s the truth.”

She groaned, placing her satchel on the bar. “Yes, yes, everyone likes to throw the word blood around, I get it—but this dress.”

Baderon pulled out a shot glass and filled it with some unfiltered ale. He slid it over, and she accepted it without asking twice. She downed that shot before slamming the glass on the counter.

She jerked her head to the side, swallowing the horrid flavor down. “Still hate it.”

He chuckled. “It’ll calm the nerves. Alright well one things fer sure—ye’ll not want fer decent grub. These banquets are catered by the bleedin’ Bismarck, no less. This is a grand chance to fill yer belly to burstin’ with fine an’—more importantly—free food.”

“You’re not easing my anxiety.” She replied, staring down at the empty shot. She kind of wanted another, but dared not to ask. She was not going to drink her anxiety away.

“Ye can’t be turnin’ up in yer shite-caked ‘venturin’ gear. No sirree.” He smiled. “I think I ‘ave just the thing. Tomorrow mornin’, get up at dawn and meet me here. I know a guy.” He smiled.

Azlyn nodded, hoping this would solve her dress issue. “Okay—I’m trusting you Baderon. Apparently, this is a whole big deal.”

He nodded. “Aye, it is. No worries, Ol’ Baderon will take good care of ye. Have I failed ye yet?”

She shook her head.

“Good, now get some shut eye. Yer startin’ to get them dark circles under yer pretty eyes.”

She gave him a sly grin, sliding him back his shot with a few gold coins for his trouble. He pocketed her coins and winked. Escaping to her room with her stuff, she stripped out from her adventure gear, and laid out on the bed with just her chemise and shorts. Before her nerves could keep her up all night, her eyes went blurry as the long day of events finally knocked her out. Her headache still pounded, even as her eyes closed shut.