Morning light filtered through The Rising Phoenix's crystal formations, casting intricate patterns across Celestia's study as she reviewed Adrian's increasingly rapid memory recovery. Yesterday's events had pushed him dangerously close to overwhelming recognition.
"Young miss," Clara entered, her water magic carrying urgent intelligence. "Sir Adrian spent the entire night in the temple archives. The librarians say he was searching through records of past lives, reincarnation theories, and..." she hesitated, her magic swirling with concern, "anything related to the Crawford name."
"He's been writing constantly in his notebook," James reported from his post. "The other knights are concerned about his behavior. They say he's been muttering about corporate protocols and emergency responses that make no sense to them."
Celestia felt her heart tighten at these reports. The crystal lamps pulsed gently with her concern, casting soft shadows across her currently brown hair. As Elizabeth Crawford, she knew the dangers of memories surfacing too quickly, too chaotically.
"There's more," Clara added, her water magic forming patterns that mapped recent events. "During morning practice, he organized the junior knights using what he called 'board meeting formations.' When questioned, he couldn't explain why he knew these strategies."
The morning quiet shattered as temple bells rang an unusual pattern. Through her window, Celestia watched Adrian leading a patrol group, his movements increasingly reminiscent of Alex's corporate leadership style. The crystal formations seemed to resonate with his passing, as if recognizing something special in his troubled aura.
"The vessel watches the knight unravel," came the creatures' taunting whisper. "Memory breaks what shadow would use."
"Young miss," James's voice carried unusual urgency. "Sir Adrian is approaching—alone, and not in his usual patrol pattern."
Through the crystal-lit windows, Celestia could see her brother's determined stride. Even from a distance, she noted how his temple knight composure was cracking, showing glimpses of Alex's focused intensity when tackling particularly challenging problems.
"The Crawford Special," he announced without preamble as he entered The Rising Phoenix, his voice carrying echoes of boardroom authority. The crystal lamps flickered in response to his agitated energy. "It's not just a recipe, is it? The ingredients, the preparation method—they're not from this world at all."
Celestia maintained her merchant's disguise with practiced care, though her heart raced at his directness. "Sir Adrian, perhaps we should—"
"The evacuation protocols," he continued, moving through the main hall with growing certainty. "They're corporate emergency responses. I know because I—" he stopped, confusion warring with recognition on his face. "Because someone... someone used to..."
The crystal formations pulsed with warning light as creatures suddenly materialized outside, their shadows pressing against the windows like physical manifestation of Adrian's mental struggle.
"The knight breaks," they chanted, their voices carrying malicious glee. "Memory shatters what was carefully built."
"Basketball strategies in combat formations," Adrian pressed on, each word seeming to pain him as memories fought to surface. The crystal lamps cast dramatic shadows across his increasingly pale features. "Corporate crisis protocols protecting civilians. And that dish—that exact recipe from Sunday family dinners when..."
He stumbled, catching himself against a table arranged exactly as his old office had been. Clara's water magic moved subtly, ready to intervene if his memories overwhelmed him too quickly.
"Elizabeth," he whispered, the name falling from his lips like a prayer. "My sister, she... we were in the car and..." His hands began to shake as the memories of their final moments threatened to break through.
The creatures' shadows writhed against the windows, their presence making the crystal formations flare with protective light. "The knight remembers death," they taunted. "Let memory break what light would heal."
Celestia felt torn between maintaining her disguise and reaching for her brother as he struggled. The crystal lamps above seemed to mirror her conflict, their light fluctuating between revealing and concealing.
"Sir Adrian," she said carefully, using the gentle tone Elizabeth had always used when Alex was overwhelmed. "Perhaps some memories need—"
"No!" His voice cracked with desperate certainty. "These aren't just memories. They're too real, too detailed. The Crawford Enterprise protocols, the basketball signals, the way you move like... like..."
The crystal lamps blazed suddenly as Adrian's holy power flared with his emotional turmoil. "Like my sister," he finished, his voice breaking. "You move exactly like Elizabeth, think like her, plan like her. Even your voice when giving orders..."
Clara and James exchanged worried glances as the creatures' shadows pressed closer, their darkness seeming to feed on Adrian's distress. The crystal formations struggled to maintain their protective barriers as his power fluctuated wildly with each new realization.
"The car was spinning," he continued, his eyes unfocused as the memories crashed through. "I reached for her hand—I had to protect her, I was her brother, I had to—" His knees buckled as the full force of their final moments hit him.
"The knight drowns in death's memory," the creatures chanted gleefully. "Let past pain break present bonds."
Celestia made a split-second decision, one that Elizabeth Crawford would have understood—sometimes protecting someone meant taking a calculated risk.
"Alex," she said softly, letting just a touch of her true voice through her disguise. "Breathe. Like we practiced during corporate crisis training. Pattern your breathing to the crystal lights."
His head snapped up at the familiar instruction, their old grounding technique from particularly stressful board meetings. The crystal lamps pulsed in a steady rhythm, offering the same comfort they once found in office lighting.
"Only Elizabeth knew that technique," Adrian whispered, his eyes fixed on her disguised form with desperate intensity. The crystal lamps continued their steady rhythm, each pulse seeming to strengthen his focus. "We developed it together during the Wall Street crisis, when our competitors tried to force that hostile takeover—"
He stopped abruptly, holy power flaring as memories threatened to overwhelm him. The creatures' shadows writhed with anticipation, their darkness seeking any crack in his composure.
"Young miss," Clara's warning came soft but urgent, her water magic detecting approaching temple knights. Their patrol route would bring them past The Rising Phoenix in moments.
Celestia knew she had to act quickly. Too much revelation would break him, too little would leave him dangerously unanchored. The crystal formations seemed to hold their breath as she made her decision.
"The Crawford Special was never just about the recipe," she said carefully, letting Elizabeth's authority color her words. "It was about Sunday evenings after successful mergers, when you'd insist on celebrating with proper food instead of takeout from that deli near Crawford Enterprise."
Adrian's breath caught. The crystal lamps caught the exact moment recognition warred with disbelief in his eyes. "Liz?" he breathed, taking an unsteady step forward.
But temple bells rang suddenly, their urgent summons cutting through the moment like a blade. The approaching knights' voices could be heard clearly now, calling for their commander. The crystal lamps flickered anxiously, matching the tension of the interrupted revelation.
"The knight stands between worlds," the creatures taunted from the shadows. "Memory bridges break in half-light."
Adrian's hands clenched, torn between duty and desperate need for answers. The crystal formations caught his conflicted expression, casting shifting shadows that seemed to mirror his internal struggle.
"Tomorrow," Celestia said softly, using the same tone Elizabeth had used during their most critical corporate decisions. "Come before morning prayers. Some memories need proper time and space."
"The Manhattan office," he said suddenly, urgently. "Top floor, western corner. The view of—"
"Sunset over Central Park," she finished quietly. "Where we made all our most important decisions."
The approaching footsteps grew louder. Adrian's fellow knights were moments away, their voices carrying concern for their commander's strange behavior. The crystal lamps pulsed with warning.
"Commander Adrian!" The knights' calls echoed through the street outside. "The High Priest requests your presence immediately!"
Adrian's expression showed the same focused determination Alex had worn during their most challenging corporate moments. "Tomorrow then," he said, each word carrying the weight of two lives' worth of meaning. "Before prayers. I'll bring—"
"Your notebook," Celestia finished, maintaining her disguise though her heart ached to reveal everything. "The one you write in left-handed, underlining key points twice."
The crystal lamps caught his sharp intake of breath at this intimate detail. For a moment, he looked ready to dismiss his duties, to demand answers immediately. But years of both corporate and temple training held firm.
After he left, Clara approached carefully, her water magic creating soothing patterns in the suddenly quiet room. "Young miss? Tomorrow..."
"Will change everything," Celestia confirmed, finally letting her merchant's disguise fade in the privacy of her study. The crystal formations responded to her true appearance, their light strengthening as if in welcome. "He's ready—or as ready as anyone can be to remember their own death."
That night, as she prepared for tomorrow's revelation, Celestia found herself touching the Crawford ring, its familiar weight carrying memories of both lives. The crystal lamps cast gentle light over her preparations: documents from their past life, subtle proofs of shared memories, everything needed to help a brother remember without breaking.
"The vessel prepares truth's unveiling," the creatures whispered from the shadows. "The shadow king watches tomorrow's light."
But some truths were worth any risk. Elizabeth Crawford had learned that lesson too late in their previous life.
Celestia Blackwood wouldn't make the same mistake twice.