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"So now," Mu says, both hands resting on his hips, "you're homeless."
No need for greetings or formalities. Not with Shaka.
"It's not the end of the world. It's not like I haven't been already in a different life. Or in this same one."
Mu exhales and looks at Shaka, who is facing away from him, sitting on the weathered steps of the Virgo temple. The tips of his long golden mane almost touch the ground.
"You look surprisingly well for someone who has died and come back to life on the same day," he says, waiting for the incoming retort.
"And for what reason, Aries Mu, wouldn't I look well?" Shaka asks with a hint of annoyance, turning his neck toward him, eyes closed.
Mu stares at him. So, despite having expended all his spiritual energy at once, Shaka has begun accumulating power again.
"Open your eyes," Mu says, and it's not his intention to sound concerned or urging, but he does.
To his surprise, Shaka obeys without protesting. Two eyes of the deepest shade of blue meet his. Not even the night seems capable of diminishing the divine glow in them.
"Wait to recover spiritually before starting with that," Mu says, perfectly reasonable. "Even if you had my help, traversing dimensions, especially if you bring other souls with you, requires an inhuman effort."
Shaka keeps him in his sight as Mu sits down next to him. "Inhuman," he repeats, as if the word itself were amusing. "Are you implying I can't do it?" he asks, his lip slightly curved in a smug smile. "How dare you?"
Mu returns the smile. "I would never insinuate something that isn't true," he says, his tone carries an amused lilt. "You might be able to do it, possibly." Shaka snorts and repeats 'possibly' without waiting for him to finish speaking. "Just wait to rest."
Behind them lie the ruins of the Virgo temple. The scorchy, smoky smell of the Phoenix Flames still lingers in the air.
"Can we afford that?"
Mu isn't sure of the answer to that question, so he doesn't respond. "We are mortal after all. Even you," he says, standing up. Teleportation abilities don't normally work within the Sanctuary, but Athena has removed the protections for that night only. "Come with me to my temple. I'll prepare a restorative tonic for you, and you can sleep in a decent bed, not out here exposed to the elements."
Shaka remains on the stairs, looking at him calmly. "I don't actually have any problem sleeping out in the open," he says, pausing before continuing. "But if that makes you happy, I can go with you."
"And I have no problem admitting that it would make me quite happy," he retorts, slightly teasing.
Without further objections, or so it seems at least, Shaka stands up.
"Let's go then," he says, and Mu takes his arm, teleporting both of them to the entrance of the Aries temple. "I didn't know you had spare beds."
"I don't, but I won't need my bed tonight," Mu looks eastward again. The sky is lightening over the rugged horizon. "Today," he corrects himself. "I have too many things to do."
"If you have so many things to do, I could help," Shaka says as they both enter the temple, side by side.
"I haven't fought, and you have. I haven't died and returned, and you have. I won't accept help from someone who should be resting."
Shaka crosses his arms. "Death is for me nothing more than a transitory discorporation at this point," he says, almost sounding bored. "You, on the other hand, seem quite fond of my current identity."
"I am fond of your current identity being in good shape for the Holy War," Mu replies. "Putting that aside, we need to catch up. We haven't seen each other in a long time."
"Just over a decade can hardly be defined as 'a long time'," Shaka says. "Just admit that you missed me and that telepathic communication isn't enough for you."
His soft voice sounds much clearer in the temple's silence.
"Well, there are things that can't be done through telepathy," he replies with a hint of intent.
Shaka laughs, arrogantly.
"Like what?"
The first thing Mu does upon entering his workshop is to make the doors of the herbal medicine cabinet open. A row of little bottles of various colors emerges and floats in the air, settling onto the table.
"I can't invite you for a meal through telepathy," he says, giving Shaka a fleeting glance as he makes a small black mortar float.
"I've been practicing inedia since I was six years old. Food isn't necessary for me."
Mu puts two spoonfuls of ashwagandha powder into the mortar, then adds ginseng, turmeric, and small pinches of various other things. "I'm sure I can offer you something that might persuade you to break your fast."
"Hmm," Shaka seems to consider it. "Maybe, it depends on the delicacy you offer me."
While continuing to crush the contents of the mortar, Mu and he gaze at each other for a long while. For starters, several things come to Mu's mind that he could offer, and Shaka also appears to have a few ideas in mind.
"I'll think of something," Mu says. Once the contents of the mortar have been reduced to a paste, Mu transfers it into a chalice of water, stirring until everything dissolves, and hands it to Shaka. "For now, I offer you this. Drink it quickly."
"Thank you." Shaka takes the chalice and brings it to his lips. Then he drinks until it's empty.
"How is it?" Mu asks.
"Horrible," Shaka responds, his face calm.
"It's the neem sap. It gives it a bad taste, Kiki always complains." Mu takes the only unused jar, scoops a spoonful of honey from it, and brings it close to Shaka. He accepts it, and for a moment, Mu thinks about kissing him. The man he loves and that he temporarily lost. But Shaka needs to recover, and a long day of restoring the Sanctuary awaits Mu. If he could wait for so long, he can wait for one more day. Gently pulling the spoon away, he distances himself from Shaka. "Now, I have to go. You know where my room is; rest whenever you like, have a bath, read something."
"I thought we were going to catch up."
"Ah, of course we will," Mu says, and with a wave of his hand, everything on the table returns to its place. "But it's been a hard day for everyone; I didn't think you'd be in the mood to talk so soon. If you have any important matters to discuss with me, I can stay a little longer."
Mu leans back on his workbench, facing Shaka. He gets up, his steps agile, graceful, and Mu is taken by surprise when he lays him down on the table and sits on top of him, astride.
“Let's catch up,” Shaka says calmly.
A smile gradually forms on Mu's lips. His hand moves to caress Shaka's thigh, moving up to his hip.
“I am not against it,” he says in a low, captivating voice. "But technically this doesn't count as 'catching up'."
"Why not?" Shaka matches his tone, caressing Mu's torso. "It's not like it's the first time we've made love."
Mu stops. The weight of Shaka's body on top of his feels right, comfortable. Since he met Shaka as children, he always felt something familiar about him, as if he had known him forever despite not having seen him in his life. At that moment, he didn't know why he saw him differently from others. However, Shaka seemed to know it well.
"Do you remember the first words you said to me?" Mu asks.
"In this life?" Shaka questions, leaning over him to plant a soft kiss on his lips that tastes like honey. "We meet once again."
Mu can't let him go now and wraps both arms around Shaka's neck to continue kissing him slowly.
"You never told me we had this kind of relationship," he says, when they pause to catch their breath.
"We've had it more than once." Shaka pushes aside his long lavender hair, placing kisses on his neck. "We've been husband and wife, wife and husband. We've been friends, enemies, and now soldiers in the same army."
Mu strokes Shaka's back. When his hands reach the edge of his wheat-colored shirt, he gives it a tug and removes it, tousling his hair.
"Look at you," Shaka adds, and the sentence is interrupted by the hungry snap of their lips meeting. "You don't seem so concerned with making me rest anymore."
Between kisses, Mu replies. "Since you're incorrigible, I've decided to give up and resign myself to the fact that you're going to do whatever you want."
"Is that so? Such a convenient time for giving up."
Mu feels Shaka's lips curve slightly. Then both pause and observe each other, breathing heavily. "I wish I could remember those other lives by your side."
"Let me send you one of my favorite memories."
"At least wait until you've recovered," Mu says, but he immediately feels the familiar connection between their minds.
Then he hears a sound, and Mu's heart skips a beat. A memory they both shared in another life, with different identities. He focuses on the rhythmic sound. It feels distant, as if it's reaching him through a thick blanket.
"The sea," he says, although he's not entirely sure.
"Waves," Shaka confirms.
It's strange to think that they shared experiences by the sea. Mu always considered himself a mountain person and has seen the sea only a few times, mostly from a distance.
"Did we go to the beach together?"
"We lived there," Shaka says. "Let me send you more information."
The temperature in his body suddenly rises. More than it already has since Shaka got on top of him, at least. Mu thinks for a moment. It's a gentle warmth, pleasant. He feels it all over his skin, especially on the soles of his feet, as if he's barefoot on something at a high temperature.
"The sun," he finally says, and Shaka smiles. "A warm place near the sea."
Then his nose detects a salty smell. The ocean, but there's something else. "Flowers?" Mu asks.
"Guess what kind of flower," Shaka says, with confidence.
"I don't know much about ornamental flowers."
"Come on, think. There must be something that reminds you of that smell."
Just to humor him, Mu makes an effort to remember, and he realizes that there is something.
"Orange blossoms."
There are a few orange trees in the fields surrounding Rodorio. Walking around the area was when Mu first saw the trees. Or rather, he smelled them before he could figure out where the refined fragrance was coming from.
Now that he remembers, that time he was walking with Shaka.
"Yes, but it's not orange blossoms. It's tiare."
"I don't know it," Mu says, and with a more seductive tone, he adds, "Will you bring me one?"
"They don't grow in Greece," Shaka says. "I'll take you to that place, if it still exists. Several centuries have passed."
"Send me visuals. That way I can compare when we go."
"I don't have any. I was blind in that incarnation."
Mu holds his intense gaze. Now part of his power resides within it. He's dying to know more, but he knows that when he dies, he will remember. And someday, memories of all their reincarnations will accompany him forever, and he'll be able to discuss all those moments with Shaka. If he decides to stay that long.
"Do we meet often?" he asks, curious.
"Not always. Once, we went two hundred years without seeing each other," Shaka says. "That is why I said ten years is nothing to me."
Another question is itching to escape Mu's mouth. The answer is fairly obvious, but still, he needs to hear it from him.
"You could have reached Nirvana long ago. Why do you keep coming back?"
Shaka caresses his face and smiles. "I'm waiting for someone."
At that moment, Mu rolls them both over, leaving Shaka next to his body. Their lips meet, their hands entwine, and he finally understands why he didn't feel anguish when Shaka died hours ago. It's because even though he doesn't remember, his soul knows they've met before and will do so again someday.
His soul knows that death is never a farewell.