The Last Smile in Sunder City (The Fetch Phillips Archives #1) - Luke Arnold Page 0,53

Human tribes put aside their hatred and agreed to a treaty. They combined their resources, shared their land and brought their villages together. The time they’d once spent making weapons or fighting was put into construction and creation. The town was called Norgari, and it soon became a true masterpiece of markets, farms and homes. On the cliffs above the town, overlooking all their subjects, the founders carved out a fortress and called it The Chamber. It was to be the symbol of unification. A monument to their safe new world. The selected leaders of each faction were granted the honor of living there so that they could watch over their people and serve from on high.”

Baxter’s new role as teacher was showing itself. I was getting the dressed-up bedtime-story version with all the frills.

“The construction of the town was a huge success. Almost instantly, the population forgot that they had ever been at war. Norgari became a haven in the eyes of its inhabitants and served as a testament to the strength of Humanity.

“But, as we have seen in history many times before, an unchecked pride in one’s people is the enemy of peace. The very day the tribes forgot that they had once been adversaries, their fearfulness turned to the world outside.

“The Werewolves from Perimoor soon came wandering, wanting to be included in this new utopia. Then the Satyrs from the Groves arrived, searching for assistance and refuge. The people of Norgari, unified in their national pride, felt no remorse when they refused their neighbors entry.

“With these first acts of selfishness, the paradise of Norgari was vanquished as soon as it began. We all fear the other, and if we ever make friends with our enemy, the first thing we do as allies is identify some new foe. There is no real peace, only the brief moments while we turn our heads from one adversary to the next.

“When the outside tribes were told that they were not welcome in the town, they vowed to tear it to pieces. Lycum and Satyr joined forces, intent on breaking down the walls of the Human city that had dared to turn them away. It quickly became clear that the Norgarites were not going to win this war.

“The members of The Chamber were already failing their first test. In desperation, they turned to Uldar Jerrick, the original Necromancer.”

Baxter really laced that last part with school-room dramatics. So much so that I let out a little laugh.

“You must excuse me,” they said. “I’ve been doing school tours at the museum lately.”

“Carry on.”

Baxter sat back in their chair and reapplied a more mature tone.

“Do you know how the Necromancers came to be?” I shook my head. “Perhaps a story for another time. For now, all you must know is that Uldar Jerrick was a great Wizard. That is all the people of Norgari knew when they offered him a large sum of money to drive off the forces from their gates. The Wizard agreed.

“The next night, when the tribes came down the hill with flaming torches and spears, they were met by a terrifying sight. Standing around the city, shoulder to shoulder, were the lifeless bodies of the warriors that had already fallen in battle. Dead men and women from both sides stood up to oppose the invading army. Some of the undead soldiers had only just finished bleeding out, while others had been buried for days. A legion of dead enemies and friends stood at attention, all with empty eye sockets, open jaws and pale hearts.

“The people of Norgari shut up their doors and cowered under their beds when they saw the empty vessels ready to defend them. Some even fled into the mountains or took their own lives in fear.

“Outside the walls, some attackers broke down when they recognized their fallen allies. Men and women who they had seen die days before, apparently alive and ready to oppose them, with maggots crawling from the cracks of their skin.

“Some warriors of Perimoor took hold of their strained nerves and attempted to convince their comrades that the sight before them must be a vision: a mirage conjured from their fears by wizardry or witchcraft. They charged at the walls, hoping that the undead figures would vanish upon their approach. But, no. The empty-eyed sentinels moved to attack, and the Lycum were forced to fight.

“The Werewolves’ claws tore through flesh and rotten skin, but the wounded did not fall. Skeletal fingers without muscle or meat