The announcement went up on the central courtyard notice board on a bright, cold morning three weeks into the new term, and Finn discovered it before anyone else in the group had even finished breakfast.
FNN: THE SPORTS FESTIVAL IS IN TWO WEEKS.
He announced this by bursting into the refectory at a dead sprint, skidding slightly on the polished floor, and arriving at their usual table with an energy that suggested he'd run the entire distance from the notice board without pausing.
BRR: We know. It's an annual event. It happens every year.
FNN: I KNOW IT'S ANNUAL, BRIAR, THAT'S NOT THE POINT. THE POINT IS REGISTRATION OPENS TODAY AND I NEED EVERYONE TO COMMIT TO EVENTS IMMEDIATELY.
ELS: Why immediately?
FNN: BECAUSE THE GOOD EVENTS FILL UP FAST. LAST YEAR THE RELAY TEAMS WERE FULL BY LUNCH.
He produced, from somewhere within his robes, a folded piece of parchment covered in his own frantic handwriting, diagrams and lists crossed out and rewritten multiple times, the particular chaotic evidence of someone who had clearly been planning this for considerably longer than the notice board had technically existed.
FNN: I've already drafted our team assignments.
YSE: You've drafted them. Without asking any of us.
FNN: I asked myself what would be best for the group, and then I answered on everyone's behalf. It's more efficient this way.
BRR: That's not how consent works, Finn.
FNN: Consent is for things that matter. This is a SPORTS FESTIVAL.
He unfolded the parchment with dramatic flourish, revealing a considerably more elaborate document than the situation seemed to require, complete with a small hand-drawn diagram of the festival grounds and what appeared to be strategic notations regarding optimal event timing.
FNN: Alright. Listen carefully. Briar, you're doing the academic relay, obviously, given your general aptitude for anything requiring rapid information retrieval.
BRR: I suppose that's reasonable.
FNN: Elsie, precision wind-navigation course, since your control's considerably better than your raw power, which plays to your strengths.
ELS: That's actually a fair assessment.
FNN: Yseult, open Alchemy demonstration, because you're going to win regardless of what event I put you in, so we might as well let you win somewhere impressive.
YSE: I appreciate the confidence.
FNN: Mira, the strategy tournament, since you think more clearly under pressure than anyone I've ever met.
Mira, considering this, offered a small, surprised nod of acknowledgment.
FNN: Arthur-
He paused, his usual rapid momentum stalling slightly, and Arthur, watching the hesitation, felt a small flicker of concern.
FNN: I genuinely don't know what to put you in. You don't have an ability to showcase in the ability-specific events, and the physical events feel almost unfair given whatever it is you're capable of doing that none of us fully understand yet.
The table went briefly quiet, the particular careful silence that settled whenever Arthur's unusual situation surfaced directly, and Arthur, feeling the weight of it, considered the question honestly.
ART: What events don't require an ability at all?
FNN: There's the endurance course. Straight physical trial, no abilities permitted, purely conditioning and technique.
ART: That one, then.
FNN: Are you sure? It's genuinely brutal. Most people who attempt it without an ability boosting their stamina drop out halfway.
ART: I've had six years of sword forms and considerably more stubbornness than sense. I think I'll manage.
Finn studied him for a moment, something considering crossing his usually chaotic expression, and then nodded with sudden, decisive approval.
FNN: I like this energy. Endurance course it is.
BRR: What about you? What event have you assigned yourself?
FNN: I'm doing everything.
The table stared at him.
ELS: Everything?
FNN: Every event that permits multiple entries. It's an efficient use of the festival's full duration, and also I simply enjoy competing.
BRR: That's not efficient, Finn, that's exhausting.
FNN: Efficiency and exhaustion aren't mutually exclusive.
He rolled up his parchment with the particular satisfied finality of someone who considered the matter entirely settled, and Arthur, watching him prepare to launch into whatever came next in his elaborate planning, found himself, despite everything, genuinely looking forward to watching the whole chaotic spectacle unfold.
Registration itself, when they finally reached the courtyard table an hour later, proved considerably more disorganized than Finn's careful planning had apparently accounted for.
The line stretched halfway across the courtyard, students calling out event names to a harried-looking upperclassman managing the registration ledger, and Finn, upon reaching the front, attempted to register for what turned out to be seven separate events simultaneously, causing the poor upperclassman visible distress.
UPP: You can only register for four events maximum. It's in the rules.
FNN: SINCE WHEN?
UPP: Since the rules were written. Which was before either of us were born, presumably.
FNN: That seems like an arbitrary limitation.
UPP: It's to prevent exactly what you're currently attempting to do.
Finn, visibly wounded by this revelation, spent a considerable further stretch of time agonizing over which three events to eliminate from his original seven, muttering calculations under his breath while the line behind him grew progressively more impatient, and Arthur, waiting his own turn with the rest of the group, found the whole spectacle genuinely, thoroughly entertaining.
ELS: This is taking forever.
YSE: Watching Finn make decisions under pressure is its own kind of entertainment, though.
BRR: He's been standing there for ten minutes.
FNN: I'M THINKING STRATEGICALLY.
He eventually settled on four events, registered with visible reluctance at having to abandon his original ambitions, and stepped aside to let the rest of the group finally register their own single events with considerably less drama.
By the time they finished, the whole group stood together in the cold afternoon light, officially committed to the festival two weeks hence, and Finn, having apparently fully recovered from his registration disappointment, was already deep into strategic planning for how he intended to approach his four remaining events.
FNN: We should start training immediately. All of us. As a group. Mutual support and encouragement.
BRR: The festival's in two weeks, Finn.
FNN: Exactly. Two weeks is barely enough time to properly prepare.
EL****S: You've had this planned since before the notice even went up, haven't you.
FNN: I refuse to answer that question on principle.
The group made their way back across the courtyard together, Finn already outlining an elaborate, entirely unrealistic training schedule that nobody else had any intention of actually following, and Arthur, walking alongside them in the cold, bright afternoon, felt the particular easy anticipation of something genuinely fun approaching, the whole chaotic energy of the group settling comfortably into whatever came next.