I've always wondered – if the senshi were reborn once, who's to say they weren't reborn other times, and simply not awakened? Do they lead normal, boring lives? What if those lives don't intersect – do they feel unfulfilled?

I'd love to explore the concept with other characters (and indeed, some may appear here and there), but this fic is set to focus primarily on Venus and Mars. Their names will change throughout the fic as we bounce from one life to the next. Hopefully, I'll be able to make it clear who's who!

Disclaimer: I own none of the characters or historical figures that appear in this work of fiction. It is written purely for entertainment purposes and is not meant to infringe on copyright in any way.

Prologue

"In every end, there is also a beginning."

- Libba Bay, 'A Great and Terrible Beauty'

Silver Millennium, 1309 B.C.

War. The thunder of hooves and the clatter of blade on blade, archers at the ready under the command of the Lunar guard's unofficial lieutenant. The last one had died in the wars before, the smaller-scale attacks. Mars wouldn't dream of taking a mount into battle, not with her power. There were creatures from her homeworld, long since destroyed, that might have been able to handle her flames. None such thing existed now, not anymore.

It was an odd thought that this was meant to be her element, the sounds of bones breaking and flesh slapping and sinew snapping, when she could hardly stand to think of the noise. It echoed heavy in her head, held her captive for a moment as she swayed. Blood and guts and gore and the smell of charred skin overwhelming her senses in that moment. This was supposed to egg her on, send her bloodthirsty into battle with a bow on her back and a blade in-hand, fire at the ready.

Instead, she stood frozen in the middle of a veritable battlefield, knowing that it was only a matter of time until she died. It didn't seem to matter how, but death was coming for her. This much, the Guardian of Fire and Passion could say with all certainty. She had seen in the flames that this would happen, had tried to warn those who would listen. Dissention in the ranks had led most to think she was spewing nonsense.

She hadn't been, but this was no time to gloat, even if her pride demanded it.

Adrenaline coursing through her veins, Mars finally felt herself move, narrowly avoiding an arrow aimed for her neck as she took off, the soldiers behind her roaring to life as she led an unintentional charge. Duty said she was honour-bound to lead these brave men and women to victory, or a death that meant something. Logic said that she should have thought of a better plan.

Her heart said, Go to her, and so that was what she was doing.

Venus, Commander of the Lunarian Army by birthright and uncontested, stood atop a hill of what had once been artificial greenery. Now, it was ash and mud, like the rest of their world. She watched the planet fall to pieces around them and wondered if there was a point in continuing on. Pride drove her, and love sustained her. With these in hand, quitting was not an option.

She drew her bow, a fantastical thing that came to hand out of the nothingness of the smoke-filled air around her. The fire felt good in the palm of her hand, danced in her veins the way her heart would dance whenever they had touched. She shot an arrow directly behind her lover, not bothered in the slightest by the incredulous look being shot her way.

"I had him, Mars," came the chastising remark before the dark foe had even fallen, still screeching and trying to extinguish the fiery arrow that had pierced his flesh, disappeared within him to cook him from the inside-out.

"I was feeling helpful," she retorted, quirking an eyebrow and waiting to see if their banter would continue as usual, one challenging the other. In their younger days, before they understood things themselves, such behaviour had led to skirmishes their advisors had only been able to sigh and shake their heads over. Later, it had become a much more private thing, a sort of verbal foreplay that others would allow when they were kept from being able to touch one another until the world around them had fallen asleep. Deadened senses made for easier lovemaking, when you needed to be some grand secret.

But Venus did not engage, blue eyes betraying just how shaken she had been as she nodded. "Thank you, then. Any sign of Jupiter?"

It seemed strange, holding a conversation on a battlefield, no matter how necessary. The words that would have been whispers before were shouts scarce heard above the din of battle now, and the mention of their friend shot through Mars' heart like an arrow. Though she kept a grimace from marring her features, she did shake her head, confirming what the pair of them already knew.

Last two standing. Just as she had seen.

"I'm down to my last fifty." It shouldn't have surprised her, but it did. Perhaps it was just the readiness with which Venus had offered up the information, or maybe it was simply because she hadn't realised how close they were to the end of it all. "You?"

"About the same, probably." She swallowed, noting the relative, eerie peace that had settled around them. There was war to every side, and none to be found where two of the most powerful women still alive were standing metres away, looking at one another with wild eyes and heaving chests.

She didn't move, not even a little bit. She didn't try to resist when she saw Venus let her sword fall to her side, or when the Guardian of Light and Love came forwards to throw her arms around her, pressing lips and tongues together and tasting the salt of sweat and tears there. "I love you." She didn't seem to be waiting for an answer, attacking Mars' mouth once again, speaking only through short breaks in their embrace, both initiated and ended by her. "I will find you, I swear to Aphrodite, I will find you. In the next life, or the one after that, or the one after that, I will find you."

"Try not to make promises you can't keep, Venus," she scolded gently, tucking a wayward strand of blonde hair behind the other woman's ear. The way her mouth seemed to form a straight line in response usually meant that Mars was in trouble. This time, it meant something else entirely.

"You do not give up on us, alright? Remember me. I will find you."

She swallowed. "Okay." She feels the blonde pulling away and does nothing to stop it, even though dying together seems a lot more romantic than being killed separately on the battlefield, that isn't the way it's meant to be. "I love you too, by the way."

She watches as her battle-hardened leader merely nods and rubs a dirty hand over her eyes to hide the tears on her face before going to urge her men on to their deaths.

History would forget this battle entirely.

But they would never forget each other.

Egypt, 1186 B.C.

Of all of the things given to her throughout the course of her life in the palace, Rashida had never understood how she could feel so alone.

With her father, Setnakhte, becoming the morning and evening star of Egypt, she had assumed things would get better. Less lonely. Less like there was a gaping hole in her chest sucking everything into it and still begging more.

Things did not get better. Her ka, she was certain, wanted more.

Perhaps she would speak to a wise woman in the morning.