Argrave wasn’t necessarily opposed to giving those who’d been brought back by Garm’s machinations some generous concessions. The Fruit of Being had chosen Durran, and as a consequence, all of this had spiraled into this. He had started this joking idea about trusting the fruit, but actually going through with it had made clear that the golden snacks had some deep foresight. Without leaving it to them, things would not have turned out half as well.

Just because he wasn’t opposed didn’t mean that he would stand idly by and let these people run roughshod over his kingdom.

The nature of domestic politics, in Argrave’s eyes, wasn’t born of cooperation. It was born of disagreement. Two or more opposing desires or viewpoints would come into conflict, each seeking advantage often at the expense of the other. It came at the other’s expense simply because they debated what the resources of the government might be spent on. The role of a truly good government was to be a system by which this conflict could be resolved in a manner that was not only non-violent, but also synthesized the opposing viewpoints to create a productive compromise.

That was what he had been aiming at with the creation of the parliament. In Argrave’s experience, one worldview seldom held all the answers—not even his own, much as he’d like to pretend otherwise. And now, that was what he hoped would be the result of this Council of the Living and Dead.

“So—we have intel on everyone present. Now… our plan of action.” Elenore pushed aside stacks of paper and rose from behind her desk, walking in front of it.

Argrave, Anneliese, and Elenore—king, queen, and head of parliament—plotted their approach to the negotiation in Elenore’s office. Argrave was rather pleased to see that any frigidity she’d been displaying had evaporated like morning dew. Perhaps it was the urgency of the task, or perhaps Ji Meng’s advice had truly worked wonders.

“Realistically speaking, despite everyone formidable we’ve gathered, I think we still fall short when it comes to experience, intelligence, and insight,” Elenore explained to Argrave and Anneliese as she paced around the room.

“And even if we aren’t, operating under that assumption only helps us stay cautious and prepared,” Anneliese agreed, expounding on the issue.

“Just so.” Elenore crossed her arms and leaned against the wall. “So, assuming they have more intellectual capital than we do… we need to consider our advantages.”

“They lack unity,” Argrave said confidently. “Some of these people met just yesterday. Many of them actively hate some of the ones they’re working with.”

“If we exploit that, we risk alienating certain stubborn figures.” Elenore scratched at her cheek as she remained lost in thought.

“Rather than call upon their dislike of one another, why don’t we focus on emphasizing the voices of the ones we might count on as allies?” Anneliese walked to Elenore’s desk, reviewing some documents. “Felipe I can be relied upon. Others are people of good character, with no indication of racial ties that remain the most hot-button issues. They can be our wedge on the inside that disrupts the stubbornness of some others.”

Silence fell as they considered her point.

Elenore nodded and broke the silence. “I think that’s the best initiative.”

“Seconded,” Argrave concurred. “With three motions in favor, our ghostbusting strategy has been decided.”

Elenore chuckled, but then hid her mouth with her hand and cleared her throat to disguise it. “Alright—we have that. But a pretty damned large problem remains. How in the world are we going to make a compromise that satisfies all of these people? We need to give our side of the negotiation direction—a goal to work toward. Shepherds need to know which field to bring their sheep.”

Anneliese nodded. “I’ve been thinking about what Raccomen did. He requested a zone of empty land to occupy—a steppe south of the Order of the Gray Owl. That’s worked out very well. It would satisfy these people and their demands for special privileges if we can distribute land similarly.”

Argrave shook his head. “Historically speaking, segregating populaces into different zones has had terrible results. We don’t want to divide people up with either distinct privileges or distinct zones. Any ounce of inferiority or superiority, perceived or genuine, in separate populaces can breed resentment that builds over decades. Before long, separatist sentiments are brewing. The nation could fracture as each seek to establish an independent state of their own. And conveniently, we’ve given them zones that would become borders with a now-hostile country.” Argrave shook his head adamantly. “We can’t give them an inch. No privileges. No people of higher or lower status. We should only have citizens.”

Stolen from Royal Road, this story should be reported if encountered on Amazon.

“A… very excellent point,” Anneliese conceded with a nod of her head.

“I have the benefit of having seen some of this stuff play out,” Argrave said dismissively.

“She’s right, though. It is a good point. I could see such a situation arising if we concede to them.” Elenore tapped her temples, as though she’d a headache brewing. “But… we can’t just deny them one and all. That would be a disaster. We need to have an objective to work towards—something everyone presses toward in all separate conversations.”

Everyone went silent, drafting up answers to this complex question. Argrave started laughing after a while.

“What?” Elenore narrowed her eyes.

“I’ve just had a dumb idea that might be secretly genius,” he explained, then laughed a little harder.

“Do tell,” she prompted, listening curiously.

Argrave looked between Anneliese and Elenore. “Anything that happens today will have incredible weight, right? I mean, all the great heroes of centuries past have come together, here, today. The decision made could impact the future of our nation for as long as it lasts.” He smiled. “And there’s been something I’ve been meaning to do, anyway.”

#####

The living and the dead stared at each other from opposite ends. The king had called together all of his greatest counsel to take part in this debate—and opposing them, some of the most legendary figures around the entire world. He explained this to those that questioned how this had come to be by being incredibly vague, gesturing both at Gerechtigkeit and the Order of the Rose for answers. None could deny these figures—many were recognized, and others had undeniable presence.

And watching this whole event, as uneasy spectators, was the parliament.

Argrave stepped forward. “I’ll take it upon myself to conduct this meeting. The general sensation I’m getting from each of you is that you’re willing to help in the crusade against the Shadowlands and Gerechtigkeit, and you’re willing to accept me as the leader of this operation. The sticking point remains, however, is the price of your mercenary work.”

“True enough,” the former emperor of the Great Chu said.

“Blunt, but true,” the Archchief of the southern tribes confirmed.

“Only a fool works for free,” the woman who’d founded the Order of the Gray Owl claimed—personally, Argrave preferred Castro to her.

Argrave looked between them. “But there’s something a great many of you don’t seem to understand. And that, plainly put, is the situation.” He scanned. “You don’t understand the situation. We’re not having a negotiation today.”

The more paranoid among them braced, looking around as if ready to fight ambushers that Argrave had prepared. But there were no guards, and there were no traps—there was only him, standing before all those assembled today.

“Many of you have been dead for thousands of years. But you show up today, learning small anecdotes about what’s changed, and you think you have the full picture. You think you have a grasp on what changes you could make in the short time you’ve been allotted to leave another mark.” Argrave put his hand to his chest. “You’re all men and women of great repute. But times have changed.”

“People don’t change,” the southron elf emperor shook his head. “They live and die, vying. I’d be a fool to let my people stay by the wayside. The price for my help is your help—simple as.”

“Perhaps we should listen,” Emperor Balzat counseled.

Argrave took the opportunity to continue. “Many of you have returned to find the glory that you built faded. Perhaps it was destroyed by another. Perhaps it withered from within. Perhaps Gerechtigkeit had a hand in bringing an end to it all—and for some few, perhaps it still persists.” Argrave held up and clenched his hand into a fist. “For now.

“If this was a negotiation, we might come to an agreement. The agreements we come to—I’ll honor them.” Argrave tapped his chest. “I will. But I won’t be the only one to hold power. What I build henceforth—like many of you experienced—could crumble after I do. A nation is transient. What I propose as an alternative… is an idea. A concept, and indeed, an agreement. It’s something that will be far more permanent than any deal that we come to today.”

People waited for Argrave to continue. He looked around, calling upon everyone. “Ladies and gentlemen—both those of the past, and of the present. Both the legends of old, the heroes of today, and the assembled parliament. Today, at this council, I intend to create a foundation. It will become an unshakable pillar that will hold this nation aloft. It will be a lodestar in troubled waters. It will be a shield from any enemies. It will be a light when night falls.

“Today, I intend to write a constitution. And I would like all of you to help me determine its contents.”

Argrave smiled as he looked upon everyone. Who better for founding fathers than the most eminent dead of the world? If all assembled here today signed a constitution, no document could be more legitimate, and no words could carry more weight. And in it, Argrave—and most importantly, his allies—could establish the guiding principles for the nation they built forevermore.

And once all that business was done, might as well get an autograph from these famous fellows—it would be the last time anyone could.