The morning sun painted The Rising Phoenix's crystal-lit halls in shades of amber and gold, a display that reminded Celestia of Manhattan dawns from her previous life. In her third-floor study, where she could briefly maintain her true form among trusted companions, she reviewed the previous day's remarkable encounter with Adrian.
"Young miss," Clara entered, her water magic carrying fresh intelligence gathered from the morning market. At twenty-three, she had developed an information network that would have impressed Elizabeth Crawford's best corporate spies. "Temple knights are discussing yesterday's coordinated response. They say Sir Adrian hasn't stopped talking about The Rising Phoenix's unusual protocols."
Celestia began crafting her restaurant owner's appearance with practiced care, watching brown hair replace silver-blonde in her mirror. The crystal lamps adjusted their light automatically, helping maintain her carefully constructed facade.
"His patrol route has changed," James added from his position near the door. At twenty, he carried himself with the quiet confidence of someone who had grown up protecting secrets. "He's scheduled three passes by our district today alone."
"The temple knights are particularly interested in how a restaurant managed such efficient evacuation procedures," Clara continued, her water magic creating patterns that mapped Adrian's new patrol routes. The crystal lamps caught her magic, casting rainbow shadows across the morning-lit study. "But Sir Adrian's interest seems... different. More personal."
Of course it was. Even without conscious memory, something in him recognized the Crawford touch in their emergency protocols. The crystal formations pulsed gently with Celestia's carefully contained emotion as she finished adjusting her disguise.
Through the window, they could see temple knights beginning their morning rounds. Adrian's figure was distinctive among them—his movements still carrying that same precise grace he'd shown in corporate boardrooms. The morning light caught his temple knight insignia, making it flash like the CFO badge he'd once worn.
"Young miss," James interrupted their observation, his voice carrying unusual urgency. "There's more. During yesterday's debriefing, Sir Adrian apparently used terms that confused his fellow knights. He called our evacuation pattern a 'corporate crisis protocol' before quickly correcting himself."
The crystal lamps flickered briefly, matching Celestia's startled reaction. Those exact words—they'd used them countless times during company emergency drills.
"He's remembering," Celestia murmured, watching her brother's patrol through the window. The crystal lamps cast gentle shadows across her currently brown hair—so different from the silver-blonde she shared with Alex in both lives. "Piece by piece, protocol by protocol."
Their morning strategy session was interrupted by temple bells—but the pattern was wrong. Discordant notes suggested trouble in the merchant district, where they'd coordinated so perfectly yesterday. The crystal formations flared with warning light, casting sharp shadows across the suddenly tense room.
"Young miss," Clara's water magic carried urgent signals from her network. "Sir Adrian is leading the response team, but..." she hesitated, her magic swirling with concern. "He's implementing more of our old patterns. The other knights are starting to question his unusual commands."
Celestia felt Elizabeth Crawford's strategic mind engaging. Her brother was remembering too quickly, too publicly. The crystal lamps pulsed with her growing concern as she adjusted her merchant's disguise one final time.
"Clara, maintain surveillance. James, coordinate with our ground network." She moved toward the door, every step measured and purposeful. "Sometimes memories need... careful guidance."
The merchant district was chaos when they arrived. Creatures had cornered a group of traders near the fountain square, their shadowy forms more organized than ever. Adrian stood at the center of the response, calling out orders that made his fellow knights exchange confused glances.
"Maintain perimeter security!" he commanded, using the exact phrases from Crawford Enterprise's crisis manual. "Establish evacuation corridors based on risk assessment protocols!"
Celestia, in her restaurant owner's guise, moved through the crowd with practiced efficiency. The crystal lamps lining the street responded to her hidden power, their light strengthening protective barriers while maintaining her disguise.
"Sir Knight," she called out, pitching her voice to carry authority while hiding familiarity. "The Rising Phoenix's eastern corridor is secure. Shall we implement yesterday's evacuation pattern?"
Adrian turned, and for a moment, she saw Alex clearly in his stance—that same focused expression he'd worn during corporate emergencies. The crystal formations above seemed to hold their breath as their eyes met.
"The Crawford Protocol," he said suddenly, then blinked as if surprised by his own words. "I mean... the evacuation... how did you..."
"Standard emergency response," Celestia deflected smoothly, though her heart raced beneath her calm exterior. The crystal lamps flickered subtly, matching her controlled anxiety. "Though your command structure seems... familiar."
Before Adrian could respond, the creatures moved with unexpected coordination. Their shadows twisted into patterns that reminded Celestia of corporate takeover attempts—systematic, calculated, designed to trap and isolate.
Without discussion, she and Adrian fell into perfect synchronization. He directed knights using movements adapted from basketball defense, while she organized civilians using their old corporate evacuation protocols. The crystal formations above seemed to sing with their unconscious harmony, their light strengthening where siblings' powers merged.
"The vessel finds memory," the creatures chanted in voices like grinding glass. "The shadow king warns against reunion."
But Adrian was too focused on their coordinated response to notice the words. His movements matched hers exactly, muscle memory from another life guiding his actions. When he called out "Secondary containment!" she was already moving to the precise position that Alex would have expected Elizabeth to take.
"How do you know?" he demanded during a brief lull, his voice carrying echoes of boardroom discussions. "These patterns, these protocols... they're not from this world. They're from—"
A creature's attack cut him off, but his eyes never left her disguised form. The crystal lamps cast dramatic shadows across his features as recognition warred with confusion.
After the creatures retreated, Adrian stood in The Rising Phoenix's main hall, studying every detail with the same intensity Alex had once used to analyze market reports. The crystal lamps cast gentle light that caught his temple knight insignia—worn in the exact spot where he'd once pinned his Crawford Enterprise badge.
"Your restaurant," he said slowly, touching a table arrangement that perfectly matched his old office layout. "The menu items, the protocols, even the way you organize emergency responses..." His hand trembled slightly as he picked up a menu card. "The Crawford Special. That was... that was..."
"A family recipe?" Celestia suggested carefully, maintaining her disguise even as her heart ached to reveal everything. The crystal formations pulsed softly, as if holding their breath.
"My sister," he whispered, so quietly she almost missed it. "Elizabeth... she used to make that exact dish when..."
Temple bells interrupted the moment, their urgent tone calling knights back to duty. Adrian's expression showed clear frustration at the timing, his memories hovering just beyond reach.
"I'll be back," he promised, his voice carrying that same protective tone Alex had always used. "There's something here, something I need to remember. It feels like..."
"Like something from another life?" Celestia suggested gently, watching how the crystal lights caught his conflicted expression.
His eyes snapped to her face, searching her disguised features for something he couldn't quite grasp. "Yes," he breathed. "Exactly like that."
After he left, Clara approached quietly, her water magic creating soothing patterns in the evening air. "Young miss? He's getting closer."
"Yes," Celestia agreed, finally allowing emotion to color her voice. "The memories are there. They just need... the right moment to surface."
That night, in her true form, she stood in her rooftop garden where impossible roses bloomed under crystal light. Somewhere in the city, her brother would be wrestling with memories that felt too real to be dreams, too detailed to be imagination.
Soon, she promised silently. Soon they would both have their brother back.
After all, some bonds were strong enough to bridge not just death, but entire worlds.