Parliamentary Procedure

Ekon

~Goddamn sun!~

Bright morning rays stabbed at my senses as I stepped out of the limousine in front of the gargantuan Leopold House of Parliament.

If not for my throbbing head, I might have been able to appreciate the grandiosity of the imposing medieval palace.

You’d think after all the times I’d been drunk, I’d be immune to hangovers by now.

No such luck.

I could feel it building in my bones.

It had been years since I had last visited the Leopold House. Not since the Great War, before I lost my sight.

But I could still remember the stark image of the medieval fortress’s dark-stone turrets stretching high into the sky, mingling with the Alpine peaks.

Most wolves go their whole lives without setting foot in this epicenter of supernatural law-making.

Only in times of war or crisis did anyone besides elected representatives of the world’s magical populations find their way to the hidden mountain valley that houses the parliamentary complex.

The building was all at once awe-inspiring and intimidating. Its gargoyle-bedecked edifice and towering columns had once been home to the eccentric Lord Leopold back in the days of the Holy Roman Empire.

Outcast from society for his belief in the pagan occult, he was the first human of note to open his home to the oppressed members of magical races who coexisted in much less secrecy and segregation than today.

After Leopold’s death, he bequeathed his estate to the leaders of the supernatural beings who used the secluded castle to organize their beleaguered peoples.

Over a millennium of triumph and tragedy haunted its chambers. I only hoped that today our efforts would fall under the former category.

“Hey, you okay?”

Bambi stood at my side. I could sense her eyes looking apprehensively up at me.

“Yeah... just tired.”

“Don’t dawdle, you two! We’ve got business to take care of before today’s session convenes.”

Leonardo called back to us from the tall staircase that led into the atrium.

“Ready to do this?” Bambi asked.

“No. But let’s go.”

As Bambi and I ascended the stairs, I swore I could feel the smoldering, scornful eyes of disapproving parliamentarians leering at me.

My suspicion was confirmed when my naïve mate asked…

Bambi

“Why are they all looking at us that way?”

My skin crawled as I caught the death glare of a passing group of vampires in dark sunglasses.

I couldn’t understand why we were being regarded so icily.

Ekon sighed, “Many members of the parliament blame werewolves’ incompetence for the outbreak of the Great War. It’s left a persistent bad taste in their mouths.”

So that’s why everybody was afraid this mission was in vain.

I guess it was kind of true.

I mean, the childish divisions among the packs still caused their fair share of problems.

But still, the leaders of the North American packs had all just come together to thwart what might’ve been the beginning of the next Great War.

Certainly, they’d heard about it.

And that proved something.

Right?

As Ekon and I stepped into the atrium of Leopold House, my breath was taken.

“Holy hell,” I exclaimed a little too loudly.

But I couldn’t help it.

It was stunning.

The room was teeming with all manner of supernatural creatures rushing hurriedly about:

Himalayan sasquatches, African witch doctors, Greek satyrs, Mexican chupacabras, all mingling with one another in both human and magical form.

Intricate tapestries of who I assumed were the founders of the Supernatural Parliament hung low over the room, as if keeping a vigilant eye over the work of their successors.

My stupefaction was broken when a friendly hand tapped my shoulder.

It was Vladimir.

“Come, the Ministry of War is this way.”

He pointed to a cavernous corridor that sat directly beneath the tapestry of a large, ferocious-looking werewolf.

~Figures.~

After padding the long hallway, our party entered a musty old room adorned with crests and archaic longswords. The room was vacant, all except a tiny, petulant-looking elf, poring over some large book on his desk.

Vladimir nodded to the rest of our group, signaling that he would take the lead.

In his sober woolen suit of drab charcoal, he looked every inch a diplomat. Far more than the rest of our motley crew.

As we approached the desk, the old elf’s pointed ears twitched with annoyance.

Clearly, he wasn’t happy to see werewolves on the doorstep of the Ministry of War.

“What do you wolves want?” the snippy sprite squeaked.

“Good afternoon,” Vladimir said with great poise. “We seek an audience with the War Council to plead our request for military aid.”

The dwarf rolled his eyes and groaned, “Sorry, too close to session time. Come back tomorrow.”

“Please sir, it’s a matter of utmo—“

“You just let ‘em know we’re here, you pointy-eared prick,” Ekon growled.

The pedantic little elf recoiled.

Vladimir turned ghost white, clearly flustered.

~Have we blown this already?~

“T… Take a seat. I’ll let them know you’re here.”

The frightened little fellow rushed behind two bronze doors.

Vladimir was not happy.

He turned to Ekon and chided him forcefully, “Any more outbursts like that and I will have you expelled from this building.”

My mate smirked irreverently at Vladimir, “Worked, didn’t it?”

Before the old politician could respond, the elf returned to the anteroom and sheepishly announced, “T… The War Council will see you now.”

I guess Ekon’s bully tactics had worked.

But Vladimir still wasn’t pleased.

“Mind my word, pup. It will do you well,” he spat.

Ekon chuckled as our party entered the chamber.

A chill ran down my spine as we entered the dim, dank room.

The mustiness of centuries was heavy on the air, making it hard to breathe.

One large stained-glass window depicting a vignette of medieval battle provided the only source of light.

It backlit a semi-circular table, where nine shadowy figures sat. Their whispers echoed ghoulishly off the ancient stone walls.

“State your business,” a deep South African bass boomed.

It stopped all of us in our tracks, except Vladimir, who proceeded forward calmly.

As far as I could tell, the voice belonged to the imposing figure at the center of the table.

His tall headdress and skeletal face-paint indicated he was some sort of wizard or witch doctor.

“Chair Fakari, esteemed members of the War Council. I bring a delegacy of alphas from the North American werewolf packs. In the wake of recent domestic terror attacks by Rogue forces, they have come to appeal to the Ministry of War to plead their request of military aid before parliament.”

A cacophony of grumbling erupted from the table.

“Rogue wolves?” a stern-eyed satyr leaned forward, his curved horns catching the light.

“Can’t you wolves handle your own in-fighting without bothering the Council?” he bleated crankily.

Leonardo cleared his throat and stepped forward, wearing his best courtroom demeanor.

“Honorable councilmen, I’m afraid our situation has escalated from petty squabbles. The Rogues have enacted blatant militancy against the human nations, killing and wounding hundreds. The U.S. government has threatened to indefinitely intern our packs if we can’t produce these Rogues in a week.”

“What business is this of ours,” a grim-faced orc griped, “as I see it, this still concerns only you wolves. It’s out of our jurisdiction.”

“I’m afraid Representative Reuel is right,” the imposing African witch doctor responded. “For the Ministry to even consider your case, you would have to provide empirical proof that it affected more populations than just werewolves.”

~Were they kidding?~

Could they not see the impact of having supernatural beings under government domain?

I couldn’t believe how near-sighted they were being.

I couldn’t bite my tongue any longer.

I had to say something.

Just as Alpha Vladimir was about to respond, I interjected.

“Members of the Council… I am Luna Woodard of Jedrick Pack.”

I could hear Ekon gasp in protest as I stepped forward.

“The far-reaching impact of our current crisis is exactly why we’re here. It’s no secret we supernatural beings have walked the fine line of peaceful coexistence with humanity for many years.”

I spoke with surprising confidence about the werewolf history I learned from my book club. There was value in learning all those boring old stories after all.

“Your point, Luna,” the cantankerous satyr demanded.

“If North America has neither the numbers nor resources to put up a fight against the government. If it subdues us, what’s to stop other world governments from doing the same to other magical beings?”

“Not all of us are warmongers like you wolves,” a fiery-haired siren retorted from the table.

Vladimir and Leonardo motioned frantically at me to stand down, but I wasn’t stepping back.

I had a piece to say

“Look… we’ve made our fair share of mistakes. But our offensive gifts have kept the supernatural world safe from several evils. A few months ago, we took down two powerful threats—Alpha Matthias and the evil witch Devina. Our combat skill provides vital checks and balances.”

Representative Reuel stood up and shouted, “Awfully proud of you to assume you’re the only ones who can ward off evil!”

“She speaks wisely!”

“Throw them out of here!”

The rest of the council responded with a conflicting chorus.

If nothing else, I’d incited some debate.

Chair Fakari pounded his gavel on the table.

“Quiet down! Let’s put this to a vote. All in favor, say ‘aye!’”

My heart stopped.

“Aye.”

“Aye.”

“Aye.”

“Aye.”

I was shocked. We’d earned the support of four members of the council: a vampire, a harpy, a troll, and a banshee.

I held my breath for a fifth vote to give us the majority. But it didn’t come. The orc Representative Reuel, the satyr, the siren, a zombie, and Chair Fakari remained in opposition.

After the mysterious old witch doctor called for “all those opposed,” he delivered the verdict.

“Majority says that the Council will not pursue your proposal for military aid at this time. This session is dismissed.”

He pounded the gavel one more time and in rushed the elven secretary to escort us out.

I couldn’t believe it.

We’d been so close.

One vote and we’d have had it.

One vote could have saved us all.

But the council’s prejudices remained strong.

“What are we going to do now?” I asked dejectedly.

Vladimir responded excitedly, “Luna Woodard! Your extraordinary, albeit unorthodox, performance earned us a four-vote minority. All we need to do is get one more of the council members on our side!”

“You mean, we can try again?” I asked, hopefully.

Vladimir nodded.

“As long as we make some minor modifications to the plan’s specifics. But that shouldn’t be too hard.”

“But how the hell are we going to win another one of those hard asses over?” Hunter asked, perplexed.

“Wine and dine them. How else?” Leonardo chimed in.

Vladimir nodded, “Fortunately for us, the sirens are hosting their annual charity gala this evening. Every parliamentarian will be there!”

“Oooh! A gala! Finally, a chance to wear that new evening gown of mine,” Ela exclaimed.

Vladimir chuckled, “I’m afraid it’s not that kind of gala. The sirens are known for hosting rather… unconventional affairs.”

“How unconventional?” Ekon huffed.

A smile lit up Vladimir’s usually dour expression, “Did you bring your swimsuits?”