Author's Note: Hey guys and gals thanks for checking out my story. Hopefully you enjoy and leave feedback and suggestions for where the story should go. If you want feel free to add your own chapter's just make sure to re-read before posting and follow the guidelines. Now on to the story.

James had been dreaming. Not the, “forgot to study for a test” or running in quicksand kind, but more like visions coming to him, almost like memories. Usually these visions are of kings, emperors, and pharaohs, each one commanding thousands of subjects and having every whim catered to them. The only thing odd about them all was that each one shared his face. Up until last night he had considered it a phase, probably a side effect of too many hours spent late night gaming after practice, but last night, the night he turned 18, things were different.

This time he was alone, in a room all by himself, when he heard a voice call out to him. “James!” the voice boomed “I am the will of your ancestry, here to bestow upon you your rightful inheritance. The Voice of the Kings”. James felt lost “What are you talking about? The hell is the Voice of Kings?” James nearly collapsed when the voice responded. “The voice is the one quality that has connected every great ruler, compelling those who hear it to do their bidding. Some have used it for good, while many have used it for evil. The only constant is that it is always passed onto the rightful male heir of the voice. You James, are the first Male heir in almost 500 years. Like wine the power of your voice has only grown more powerful over the ages. By now you can compel MOST any being to do your bidding. Of course we must take steps to ensure their won't be as noticeable of a gap this time. We shall bestow upon you the power to form a harem more grand than all before you. Your seed will catch like fire and pour like rivers into your maidens. and your rod shall be enough to satisfy all. Take this gift child, AND RULE!”

James wanted to ask more questions, but before he could speak, a burning sensation filled his throat, like acid washing down into his chest. The pain was so unbearable that James fell to the ground writhing. He reached out, hoping for something, someone to ease his suffering. As he began to slip out of consciousness he heard a faint chuckle. “Stop being so dramatic boy, tiss a small price to pay for power” and like that the world went black.