1 Prologue

The boy stood at the yawning entrance, his green eyes wide in disbelief. The desert winds dusted his dark brown hair with golden sands, the cloud of a softened yellow briefly blocking his view of the gaping hole in the sandstone floor. He stood in silence in the middle of the ancient temple, momentary shock just starting to wear off. His pickaxe slipped out of his hand and dropped to the ground, swiftly getting buried by the sands, just as the entrance in front of him had been. 

He quickly glanced around the weathered quartz pillars, looking for any clue at what the darkened pit might be. Seeing nothing except the endless sands and evidence of curtains that used to hang from the flat rock slab used as a roof, he took a deep breath and edged near the hole. He slowly stepped down into the hole, the thick, jagged edges snagging his white robe that protected him from the slowly sinking sun in the sky. Carefully maneuvering, he clung onto the side of a semi-steep drop, moving down at a steady but terrifying pace. He stuck his foot out every now and then, reaching for a ledge, and had to scramble to retain his grip as it came back empty. The feeble light was soon swallowed by the dark pit. The boy was now relying solely on his hands and feet to guide him. 

After what seemed like an eternity, his leather boots hit the first ledge. He fumbled with his multi-compartment backpack, opening each section and sifting through to find his lantern. His hands finally hit the soft rubber of the handle after the third compartment. He promptly yanked it out, turning the gas and sparking the flame.

 Taking a couple steps into the softly illuminated cavern, he edged his way around a giant gap in the very center of the chamber. Not paying attention to his feet, the boy tripped over a rock ledge, landing hard on his knees. He grunted, the lantern fumbling out of his grip, clanking against the hard ground, the hollow noise echoing through the ghastly chamber. The scraping metallic sound on rock told him that the lantern had rolled away, but not off the ledge. The small fall had allowed for minimal damage to the sides, but had killed the light, making the boy crawl around in the darkness to find his lantern. Finally, his hand found the warm metal of the base, and he grabbed the handle, sparking the flame and hoping he hadn't wandered too far down the path.

All around him, golden designs were painted on the rough yellow walls, swirling down the pit he had landed in. The warm light gleamed off of the polished symbols, giving him an egyptian feel. A small slope was added to the ceiling, gradually cutting inward towards the entry. A crudely made staircase winded down the passage, inviting the young architect to continue. 

He did. 

Turning to look at the designs, he found that the hieroglyphs weren't in egyptian, but some other ancient language that he couldn't name. He tentatively reached a hand out, and traced the first design he had seen. It was a strange, winding shape that resembled a mixture of a p with a few extra curving lines attached to the bottom and top. The shape had rich, thick golden lines that shone in the flickering light of the dim flame. The riches and deliberate shaping behind the figure were fairly evident, making him assume that this had once been either a royal treasury or a tomb. For both career and personal purposes, he really hoped it wasn't the latter, as the treasury would tell more than a dead king would, and he had an irrational fear of everything dead. The curving shape's gentle edges and cold metal filling sent chills up his spine, as if anticipating that something would go wrong.  

Sure enough, as soon as his finger slipped off of the last curve, the area started to shake, loose sandstone falling down the deep pit. His lantern was thrown up into the air and cast down the cliff beside him, its light swirling as it fell down, suddenly extinguished as it hit the ground way below with the sharp, distant sound of shattering glass and clunk of denting metal. With both of his hands free, he found a grip on the wall and grabbed it, hanging onto the rugged material for dear life.

His feet slipped out from under him, rolling off a loose stone, and he fell hard on his knees. The rough steps turned hot, the friction of their movements seeping through his thin pants and burning his skin. His hand slipped off of the edge he had found, and his world seemed to spin all around him. The boy was wrestled closer and closer to the edge, the movements harsh and unsympathetic. Just as he was sure that he would be thrown off, the room stopped its assault. He quickly scrambled to his feet, brushing the sand off of his robe, and looked around. The room almost took his breath away.

The once dormant designs were now glowing with a brilliant orange light, each one amplified in its own way so that each letter, picture, and numeral couldn't be mistaken for the next. Everything in the twisting room had its own purpose and job, the boy was sure of it, but it made him feel oddly out of place. Even the rough edges of the walls, with their sandy gold color and wild texture, felt needed, almost essential. It was the weirdest feeling he had ever had, but also the best. 

"Before the Egyptians took over the great gold plane..." A startling clear voice echoed through the room, making the young boy jump with fright. He examined the room, but no one was there. 

"We, the long forgotten Protectors, guarded the area." The designs dimmed, with one picture slightly in front of him still at its normal radiance. It showed a tall figure, hands outstretched, holding a glow like gold in his hands, casting it over a plane covered with gently sloping hills. "Our leader, the creator of Voy, ruled peacefully over the region, using his Glow to heal and help the land. The dry planes you have crossed used to be full of golden crop, with springs of sweet water running down the hills, creating a giant lake where this very treasury is located under." A new picture brightened, allowing the one he was looking at to fade. The new picture showed fizzing, gold water bursting from the ground and covering the land, with bridges to from a large island in the middle forming a sort of web. "Our island was the most beautiful, prosperous land known to man. Everyone was welcome, so everyone came. We were the capital of the world, with no one hungry, and no one left out. It was magical." Suddenly, small shapes started moving across the bridges, bringing crop and money, and slowly building houses way too advanced for their time. 

"But, as always, this comes to an end. The Leader was challenged by an unknown enemy, that soon took over our kingdom," The island was then very dramatically smashed by an invisible attacker, pieces of it flying in every direction. The image faded, but a small shard of it flew down the line and landed into another picture, the designs that it crossed glowing briefly. The boy ran to keep up, his thick, leather boots clanking against the path and creating a symphony of long, hollow, music that  felt empty compared to the Voice. 

"We wilted, and soon were cast into the millions of forgotten societies. Leader was left behind, and was thought to die in this very room." The picture showed an old man crawling down the stairs, curling up beside hundreds of unique items. "The items here are the Voy, each one given to an advanced Guard to make them Voyans. The Voyans had protected our land, but now have vanished into thin air." It showed the items slowly dispersing, but a new one filled the place of every one taken. "Nothing remains of our story, but now that we are discovered, the worthy will claim the Voy and become a Voyan to protect the new Empire against evil. But beware, if these Voy fall into the wrong hands, the world as you know it will be gone." 

With that, the images faded away, and a pile of items started glowing down in the pit. Heart racing, the boy ran down the stairs, his feet sliding into each step, everything purposeful and thought out. Finally, he reached the bottom, panting and doubled over. His head pounded, his heart racing for more reasons than running. This could be his big break.

When he looked up, a mountain of precious items made from premium jewels glowed back at him, each feeling as the designs had. He dropped down to his knees, wondering how no other, more important architect had found something as big and telling as this! His emerald eyes shone gold with the glow, the riches the most tempting thing he'd seen. This discovery would be revolutionary, blast him through the ranks of architects all over the globe. He would finally be taken seriously, given respect by everyone! And yet, the riches seemed to harbor a secret, one that shouldn't be released. 

Shaking his head, the boy got to his feet, dusting off his silky robe yet again, and walked around, examining each object, each curve of metal, each type of fabric, until he was sure this was the most important discovery in History. A small object in the back caught his eye, though, and he couldn't help but notice it. It was a necklace of no apparent importance, yet it seemed to have its own voice. It was thrown between two of the most extravagant, rich things there- a gauntlet, covered in precious gems and jewels, and a crown, strung with pearls and so thin it seemed like spun sugar, but so firm it seemed indestructible with its large pearls and diamonds. But, no matter how beautiful the crown and gauntlet where, the necklace was even more so for him. It had a thin strip of leather as the loop, and a small sandstone carving of the sun as the jewel, with every painted, golden ray of the sun feeling warm and comforting. 

Bending over, he held the necklace in both his hands, cupping it as he would a delicate egg, feeling the worn and weathered leather, breathing in its cozy, musty sent. It was the best thing in the room. He draped it over his neck, carefully working it around his hair so it wouldn't get caught, and turned around, feeling a greater purpose. And standing in front of him was the Leader. 

"You chose the charm of the Sun, eh?" His voice was young, and full of energy, despite his long, white hair and shadowy face that never hit the light quite right. "I guess I have another Light Voyan to train." The Leader stepped into the light and the boy had to gasp. The Leader wasn't a day over thirty, with sparkling gold eyes and even, light brown skin. He had a loose silk robe on that reminded the boy of a cloudy day with its shaded white wisps and light blue background. His white hair was straight, falling around his shoulders like an elegant hood. All around his hands, a golden flame-like substance twirled and roared, lighting the area around him with a comforting glow. 

"Good thing, too," the Leader mused, "light is my specialty." 

Hello, and thank you for reading! This was written over a year ago- I've gotten a lot better since! Any tips or critiques are welcome!