The morning after Adrian's visit to The Rising Phoenix, Celestia found herself reviewing the encounter while maintaining her restaurant owner's appearance. Crystal lamps cast steady light over her study as she documented every reaction, every phrase that suggested her brother's memories were surfacing.
"Young miss," Clara entered, her water magic carrying fresh intelligence. "The temple knights are buzzing about Sir Adrian's unusual commands yesterday. Some say he spent the night in the temple archives, searching through old records about..." she hesitated, her magic swirling with excitement, "reincarnation."
James, from his post near the door, added, "He's been seen practicing those same evacuation patterns in the temple training grounds, trying to understand why they feel so natural to him."
The crystal lamps flickered briefly as Celestia absorbed this information. Her brother's tactical mind was working even without full memories—exactly as Alex would have approached a puzzling situation.
"And the creatures?" she asked, watching how the morning light caught her currently brown hair—so different from the silver-blonde she shared with Adrian in both lives.
"Growing bolder," James reported, his stance alert. "But there's more. Their attacks seem focused on disrupting any interaction between you and Sir Adrian. Yesterday's formation wasn't random—they specifically tried to separate you both during the coordination."
"The vessel and knight must not align," came the creatures' distant chant, carried on the morning breeze. "Memory serves shadow's purpose divided."
Clara's water magic formed protective patterns around the study. "Young miss, there's something else. Sir Adrian was overheard in the temple library, muttering about 'corporate protocols' and 'Crawford emergency responses.' The other knights think the stress of command is affecting him."
"He's remembering too quickly," Celestia murmured, Elizabeth Crawford's strategic mind assessing risks and opportunities. The crystal lamps dimmed slightly, matching her concern. "Without context, without support..."
"Like trying to wake from a dream too suddenly," Clara observed, her water magic creating patterns that mimicked scattered memories. At the edges of these patterns, Celestia could see how the crystal formations responded differently when representing Adrian's power signature.
Their discussion was interrupted by temple bells—not the usual warning pattern, but something more urgent. Through her window, Celestia saw temple knights mobilizing with unusual haste. Adrian led them, his movements carrying that familiar precision she remembered from corporate crisis responses.
"Young miss," James's voice carried warning. "The creatures are appearing in multiple locations. But look at their pattern..."
The attacks formed a deliberate circle around both The Rising Phoenix and the Temple of Dawn, as if trying to create barriers between siblings on the verge of recognition. The crystal lamps pulsed with warning light as shadows gathered in the streets below.
"The vessel's choice approaches," the creatures chanted, their voices like wind through broken glass. "Memory serves shadow or light, never both."
"Clara, implement Protocol Nine," Celestia commanded, adjusting her merchant's disguise with practiced care. The crystal lamps brightened in response to her focused energy. "James, coordinate with our ground network. We need to guide these memories carefully—too fast could break him, too slow risks losing the connection."
They moved with years of practiced efficiency. Clara's water magic carried signals through their network while James positioned their trusted contacts throughout the district. The morning light caught the crystalline formations that protected The Rising Phoenix, each one programmed to respond differently to various threats.
Through the window, they watched Adrian organizing temple knights with unconscious familiarity—using hand signals from Crawford Enterprise's security team, positioning guards in patterns straight from their corporate playbook. Some knights looked confused, but none could deny the effectiveness of his strange methods.
"The vessel shields the knight," came the creatures' accusation, their shadows writhing with apparent frustration. "Memory fights shadow's hold."
"Young miss," Clara's water magic carried urgent warning. "Sir Adrian's commands... he's using exact phrases from your old crisis manual. The other knights are starting to question—"
A massive surge of corrupted power cut her off. The creatures had changed tactics, no longer trying to separate siblings but instead forcing them to coordinate. The crystal lamps flared with warning light as shadows pressed in from all sides.
The creatures herded civilians toward The Rising Phoenix, forcing Adrian's temple knights to converge on her location. Through the crystal-lit doorway, she could see her brother's expression—focused but troubled, as memories fought to surface through the chaos.
"Standard evacuation protocols!" he called out, then froze momentarily as the words echoed with familiar weight. The crystal lamps caught his hesitation, casting sharp shadows across his suddenly uncertain features.
Celestia maintained her restaurant owner's appearance while implementing their old corporate defense patterns. Each movement felt like dancing on a knife's edge—revealing enough to trigger recognition but not enough to overwhelm him. The crystal formations responded to their unconscious synchronization, their light strengthening where siblings' powers merged.
"The vessel plays dangerous games," the creatures taunted, their shadows forming patterns that looked disturbingly like corporate logos. "Memory is shadow's weapon too."
Adrian's head snapped up at their words, his eyes finding her disguised form with growing intensity. "These patterns," he said quietly, even as his sword cut through shadow-flesh. "They're not just familiar. They're... they're from board meetings and crisis drills and..."
The crystal lamps pulsed with warning as his voice trailed off, memories threatening to break through too quickly. Clara's water magic moved instantly, creating subtle barriers that helped moderate the recognition.
"Focus on the present threat," Celestia commanded, using Elizabeth Crawford's crisis management tone—a calculated risk. "Analysis comes after security is established."
After the creatures retreated, leaving behind whispers about memory and shadow, Adrian remained in The Rising Phoenix's main hall. The evening light filtering through crystal formations cast gentle shadows across his troubled features as he struggled with half-formed memories.
"That voice," he said softly, studying her disguised form with increasing intensity. "The way you give orders, the protocols, even that tone of authority..." His hand unconsciously touched his temple knight insignia, exactly where his Crawford Enterprise badge once rested. "It's like echoes from dreams I can't quite..."
"Some dreams feel more real than others," Celestia suggested carefully, maintaining her merchant's facade though her heart ached to reveal everything. The crystal lamps seemed to dim sympathetically, as if sharing her restraint.
"Crawford Enterprise," he whispered suddenly, the name falling from his lips like a key turning in a lock. "Board meetings and basketball strategies and... and a car crash..." His eyes widened with growing panic as memories threatened to overwhelm him.
Clara moved smoothly, her water magic creating subtle patterns that helped ease the pressure of rushing memories. At twenty-three, she had learned to read these situations with remarkable precision.
"Perhaps," Celestia suggested gently, "some memories need time to find their proper place."
Adrian's hand trembled as he reached for the menu card displaying the Crawford Special. "My sister," he breathed, pain and confusion warring in his voice. "She used to... we were..."
Temple bells interrupted his revelation, their urgent tone calling knights to evening patrol. The crystal formations caught his torn expression—duty warring with desperate need to understand.
That night, after Adrian had reluctantly departed, Celestia stood in her true form in her rooftop garden. The impossible roses bloomed under starlight, their petals catching crystal lamp light like memories waiting to surface.
"He's remembering too much, too quickly," she told Clara and James, who had grown up protecting her secrets. "The creatures know it too. They're trying to use his confusion against us."
"What will you do, young miss?" Clara's water magic swirled with protective concern.
Celestia touched the Crawford ring hidden beneath her clothes, feeling its warmth like a promise between lives. "Guide him carefully. Some memories need to bloom like these roses—gradually, naturally, until they're strong enough to face any shadow."
Below, temple knights patrolled crystal-lit streets while creatures lurked in growing shadows. Somewhere between light and darkness, past and present, a brother struggled to remember his sister.
The time for reunion approached, but like any Crawford strategy, it would need perfect timing.
After all, some memories were too precious to risk breaking in haste.