Vidora woke up on the third day, according to Desmond, sharp-tongued, irritable, and demanding to know why nobody had brought her proper tea instead of "whatever infirmary sludge this is supposed to be," which everyone agreed was an excellent sign. She didn't mention the prophecy. Nobody asked her to.
Life at the Warrior School settled, slowly, back into something resembling normal after that — training, meals, Stephan's foot healing enough that his limp finally stopped being funny and started just being mildly annoying to listen to him complain about... The usual.
Xavier let himself enjoy the quiet for exactly four days before Elrick tracked them down at breakfast, uncharacteristically chipper, and informed them that training was cancelled for the morning.
"Cancelled," Bruce repeated, suspicious. "You've never cancelled anything in your life. Probably. I haven't known you for your entire life."
"I'm capable of generosity. Occasionally. On days that suit me." Elrick was already walking, clearly expecting them to follow, which they did, mostly out of morbid curiosity. "Meet me at the eastern springs in an hour. Bring nothing. You won't need it."
"The eastern springs?" Stephan said, delighted. "Like, the hot springs? We have hot springs?"
"The school has had hot springs this entire time, yes. You've simply never been invited before." Elrick didn't slow down or turn around. "Consider it a reward. You've earned a day where nothing tries to kill you. Congratulations"
The eastern springs turned out to be a beautiful stretch of terraced stone pools tucked into a fold of the mountainside behind the school, steam curling up into the cool morning air, the whole place smelling faintly of mineral salt and pine. Xavier sank into the nearest pool with a groan that embarrassed him slightly, muscles he hadn't realized were still tight from the pilgrimage finally unknotting all at once.
"Okay," he admitted, tipping his head back against the warm stone. "This might be the single best thing this school has done for us."
"Better than the training?" Bruce asked, already similarly boneless in the pool beside him.
"Don't ask stupid questions."
Stephan, predictably, spent the first ten minutes trying to see how long he could hold his breath underwater before Bruce physically dragged him back up by the collar, and the next twenty complaining that hot springs were "kind of boring, actually, no offense," before falling asleep sitting upright against the pool's edge, which nobody bothered waking him up from.
Elrick arrived a while later, mercifully still fully dressed, carrying a large wrapped bundle under one arm and wearing the specific, self-satisfied expression of a man about to enjoy giving a gift more than the people receiving it would enjoy getting it.
"Up, all of you. Presentable enough. Good." He set the bundle down on a flat stone and began unwrapping it with a flourish that suggested he'd been looking forward to this part all morning. "Consider this both a reward and, frankly, a professional courtesy. You cannot keep doing dangerous, headline-worthy work in whatever you happened to be wearing that morning. It reflects poorly on everyone involved. Call this a reward, or a gift, or whatever you see fit. Ha, fit, get it? Cause they're outfits...?"
Silence followed.
Bruce's outfit came first — a sharply tailored suit and vest in a deep charcoal, cut in a style that looked, to Xavier's eye, decades out of fashion in the best possible way, precise lapels and a subtle chain at the pocket. Bruce held it up, turning it over with the reverent care of a man who genuinely appreciated good craftsmanship regardless of era.
"This is beautifully made," he said, sounding almost suspicious about how much he meant it. "Where did you even find something like this?"
"A tailor who owed me a favor. I had a very specific aesthetic in mind for you. Don't overthink it." Elrick moved on before Bruce could press further, producing the next bundle with even more visible delight. "Stephan. This one's actually sentimental, so try not to ruin it within a week. Or just today. I doubt it's making it past the week."
It was a full samurai uniform, layered dark fabric bound with a wide sash, stitched through with thread that caught the light like it had been woven with actual silver, unmistakably expensive in the way that made Stephan go uncharacteristically quiet just holding it.
"I picked this up years ago, in the Towairaito Republic, long before any of you showed up," Elrick said, softer than usual. "Never had anyone I thought deserved to wear it. Figured that's finally changed. Sort of."
Stephan didn't say anything for a long moment, which for Stephan was practically a speech in itself, then just nodded and pulled it on right there, adjusting the sash with unexpected care.
Xavier's own bundle came last — a long black coat over a plain white shirt, black trousers, black boots, simple and severe and unmistakably deliberate in its lack of ornamentation.
"Understated," Elrick said, watching him shrug into it. "Suits you. You've got the sort of face that looks like it's brooding about something even when it isn't. Might as well dress the part."
"I don't brood."
"You are, right now, brooding about whether you brood."
Xavier decided not to dignify that with a response, mostly because it was true, and pulled the coat fully closed instead, admiring how it settled — sharp, clean, like something out of a story about someone considerably more dangerous than he generally felt. He caught his own reflection in the still water of the nearest pool and, for one unguarded moment, didn't recognize the person looking back. It wasn't unpleasant, just strange, the way a person sometimes fails to recognize themselves grown into something new.
Bruce, meanwhile, had fully committed to the suit, adjusting the vest with small, satisfied tugs, checking the fit of the sleeves with the focus of a man who took tailoring more seriously than he'd ever admit out loud. "I could get used to this," he admitted. "It's practical, too. Deep pockets. Good range of motion in the shoulders."
"You're already planning what tools to hide in it," Stephan said, still admiring his own sash in a borrowed hand mirror Elrick had produced from somewhere.
"I am absolutely already planning what tools to hide in it."
"Good," Elrick said, looking over all three of them with something that might, briefly, have been pride. "You look like people who could actually survive what I'm about to ask you to do."
Stephan's grin faltered slightly. "That's not an ominous way to end a nice morning at all."
"Get dressed properly. Meet me in my study within the hour." Elrick was already turning to leave, the earlier lightness draining out of his voice with each step. "Third and final task. This one's not a warm-up."
"The previous ones were warm-ups?"
Xavier suddenly had a terrible feeling about this.