Isis.

Isis has taken flight. The attack, a fool's surprise. Their army, great. Thousands await secure in hiding for our cities reaction to the first wave of warriors. On my horse, as yet unstruck by the arrows peircing land and flesh all around. Nearby a woman needs help. Swooping her up behind me, we ride. She's showing no fear, only faith. This is Isis, Goddess that she is; running with her people, fighting by their side, unknown of course but equal in honor.

She's begun to guide my way, we approach a nearby hedge maze leading out of the city. There are many routes to choose, but she knows the perfect way.

We dismount and run. The citadel has been taken and the lower town overrun. My only duty now is to protect her. Following closely behind her. Faintly catching the delicate, otherwordly scent of her skin for brief moments when she slows down to take a corner. She looks back from time to time and there is almost a hint of playfylness in her composure.

Not a wrong turn. Just out of luck. They're closing in from every direction. Everyone is looking for us; for her. Horses armed with men armed for battle. Other's hacking their way, slicing directly through the hedges.

She turns to look at me and the fear subsides. She's not crying but there are tears, sweat and blood. She pulls me close. She kisses me, then we explode.

We are safe.