1 Dying Alone?

I sit upon this throne, a throne made of the most precious materials known to me. It always amazes me how even with no windows the throne room is as bright as day. Outside I can hear my legions march to the beat of the drums, I can feel my familiars and those bound to me, and I can see the nobles bowing before me. But I cannot move from this throne that binds me.

My story isn't overly complicated nor is it as grand as people may think. I have read the history books brought to me by my familiars. They are overly dramatic and just untrue.

That's why I decided to write the truth of my history. How I founded this empire. Why I am trapped in this bright room upon this throne.

Powerful? I am. But what is the point if I cannot move? If I cannot eat, or sleep, or love, or hate.

The gods were right.

The life of an immortal is no different than hell itself.

My story begins with my death, and how it led me to find my best friend and my most trusted companion Ash.

Considering how long ago it was I remember it well, it was the largest turning point in my life after all.

It was after a battle between two now long lost and forgotten kingdoms on the Amberth plains. The plains were nothing special with no significant history or resources to speak of. But human greed is endless and sometimes it can spiral out of control.

Then again it isn't just humans that are corrupted by greed, no one is perfect after all.

I died on that battlefield. As a lowly lieutenant, my death didn't mean much. I remember having difficulty breathing, a spear had gone through my stomach.

Although I'm proud to say I was able to finish off the young man that had pierced my stomach. He had a panicked look on his face the poor boy. At the time I felt rage beyond belief as I shoved my own spear into his neck. I regret it now, I was going to die anyway why take him with me?

When I fell to the ground I had some time to think.

I was worried about my family.

My mother and father, would they be alright without my income? Now that I think about it they may have starved to death or worse.

It looked like we were losing the battle so my friends were most likely dead, and if they ran and were marked as deserters they would have been hunted and died anyway.

I'm not sure when it happened but at some point, everything just stopped. I must have died then. I don't remember anything about the afterlife but after going through so much and knowing what I know now I can take a pretty good guess.

Then came the light, a bright light that seemed to take over my world.

"Bhavan shall mo....Ulll fex visathol....emm. Rise and slumber no more. The dead must help the living!" There was a young man in my field of vision. He had a thin build with brown hair and brown eyes. He wore a poor excuse for a robe, tattered and covered in blood and mud, it didn't even fit him properly it was so long.

I groaned as I lifted myself off the ground. I was groggy, after inspecting the young man before me I started to take in my surroundings.

"A forest?" I said.

"Yes! You can speak? That's amazing! I did it I summoned a high tier zombie!" The young man was ecstatic.

It didn't take me long to catch on.

"A zombie?" I was confused, wasn't necromancy outlawed and punishable by death?

"That's right, Zombie! I raised your body from the grave and summoned your soul from the void." The young man looked proud as he explained his accomplishment.

"So that's what you meant by 'summoned'? But why would you want to summon me?" Shouldn't he want to summon a great hero, or raise a supreme master of the sword?

The young man stopped for a moment and looked at me straight in the eyes before speaking.

"Who wouldn't want to summon the great hero of Amberth? The man who killed the prince of Burnia and won the battle for Falstad, Bruyn."

Now I was very confused, I did what now?