The Temple of Dawn lived up to its name, its crystal spires catching the first rays of sunrise in a display that reminded Celestia of modern skyscrapers piercing Manhattan's morning sky. She wore her plainest appearance—unremarkable features designed to blend with other worshippers—as she joined the gathering crowd for morning prayers.
Clara, disguised as another devotee, had positioned herself near the temple knights' entrance. Her water magic rippled subtly through the morning mist, alert for any sign of their target. James watched from the marketplace across the street, his merchant's outfit allowing him to blend perfectly with the early morning vendors setting up their stalls.
Then she saw him.
Sir Adrian moved with a grace that spoke of extensive training, but it was the little things that made her heart stop: the way he adjusted his stance like a basketball player reading the court, how he unconsciously tapped his sword hilt in the same rhythm Alex used to tap his pen during meetings. The crystal formations in the temple seemed to brighten at his presence, as if recognizing something special in his aura.
"Young miss," Clara's whisper came through their coded signal system, her water magic carrying the message like a gentle breeze. "He's carrying a notebook. The way he writes in it..."
Left-handed, quick strokes, then underlining key points. Alex's exact habit from countless corporate meetings. The morning light caught the motion, making Celestia's heart ache with recognition. The crystal lamps above pulsed gently, as if sharing her emotion.
Celestia forced herself to remain still, to observe. Elizabeth Crawford's business instincts warned against rushing into anything, no matter how emotional. The temple's morning light painted everything in shades of gold and crystal, making the scene feel almost dreamlike.
The morning prayer service began, holy power filling the temple in golden waves that made the crystal formations sing. Sir Adrian's response to the power was subtle but distinctive—he channeled it like someone used to managing corporate resources, efficient and precise. Each movement spoke of a mind trained in optimization, in finding the perfect balance between input and output.
"Did you see that?" James's signal came, carried by Clara's discrete water magic. "His power management..."
"Just like how young miss handles business accounts," Clara completed the thought, her magic rippling with excitement.
After the service, Celestia lingered, watching Adrian interact with other knights. His leadership style was unmistakable—the same approach Alex had used with their corporate teams. The way he positioned his subordinates, how he delegated tasks with clear efficiency, even his encouraging smile when junior knights succeeded—it was all pure Alex Crawford.
"The eastern district is secure," she overheard him reporting to his superior, his voice carrying that familiar tone of quiet competence. "We've implemented new patrol patterns based on... traditional strategic methods."
Traditional to their previous world, perhaps. The crystal formations above caught his gestures—the same precise hand movements Alex had used during board presentations, adapted now for military briefings.
Back at The Rising Phoenix, now wearing her restaurant owner's appearance, Celestia reviewed her observations while managing the breakfast rush. Each detail felt like a piece of a puzzle she'd been carrying since her rebirth.
"Young miss," Clara approached with what appeared to be a regular report, her water magic concealing their true conversation. "Sir Adrian's patrol schedule shows he frequently passes through this district. And..."
"And?"
"He's stopped to look at our menu board three times this week. The foreign terms seem to catch his attention." Clara's magic formed patterns that mimicked his movements—the way he'd pause, study the menu, then shake his head as if trying to grasp a memory just out of reach.
"There's more," James added quietly, his voice barely disturbing the crystal lamps' steady glow. "During yesterday's creature attack, he used a phrase... something about 'touchdown defense positions.'"
Alex's favorite football strategy applied to combat. The crystal formations seemed to brighten with understanding, their light catching the subtle smile Celestia couldn't quite suppress.
In her third-floor study, finally in her true form, Celestia carefully documented every similarity, every hint. The high priest's letter had suggested souls could find each other across lives, but caution was still necessary. The evening light caught her silver-blonde hair—so like Alex's had been in their previous life—as she worked.
"Clara," she called softly. "Start implementing Protocol Seven."
"The recognition signals, young miss?"
"Yes. Subtle things from our previous life. Place them where a temple knight might notice."
Over the next few days, small changes appeared around The Rising Phoenix:
- Menu items named after Alex's favorite foods
- Background music played in rhythms he used to tap
- Table arrangements that mimicked his preferred office layout
"Young miss," James reported one evening as crystal lamps cast long shadows through the dining room. "Sir Adrian stopped today. He stood looking at the menu for several minutes. The way he smiled..."
"Like he'd found something familiar," Clara finished, her water magic swirling with shared excitement.
Celestia, in her true form, stood in her rooftop garden where impossible roses bloomed in the autumn air. The flowers grew in patterns now—formations Alex had drawn countless times while explaining business strategies. The crystal lights above seemed to dance with possibility.
"Soon," she whispered to the night air. "But carefully."
Elizabeth Crawford had lost her brother in a rush of violence and betrayal. Celestia Blackwood would reclaim hers through careful planning and perfect timing.
In the distance, temple bells rang as knight patrols changed shifts. Somewhere in the city, Sir Adrian probably stood watching the same stars, perhaps feeling the same sense of something just beyond memory's reach.
The pieces were aligning. The time for reunion approached.
But first, everything had to be perfect.