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REB-1B.15 Confessions: The Treasure of Eldorado®


2012-01-01. The Treasure of Eldorado.

“Confessions of a Rebel Angel; The Wisdom of the Watchers and the Destiny of Planet Earth.”. – Book 1B. Chapter  15. ~ by Timothy Wyllie

“A Yucatan Welcome, Astral Espionage, the Politics of Violence, and the Truth about Dogs”



Confessions of a Rebel Angel. Book 1B. Chapter  15. The Treasure of Eldorado.

When the first expeditionary force, and the two subsequent rescue missions Caligastia instructed to cross the desert disappeared without a trace, the Prince had to give up on his invasion plans. The priests, through whom he’d issued his instructions, lost a certain amount of prestige as a result of these failures. However, the ritual self-immolation of the high priest and the subsequent quantity of human sacrifices demanded by the fire god they served, soon restored the awe and respect of the fearful populace. Thus started what I think of as one of the darkest eras I have had the misfortune to witness in my time here. Life in this world had never been particularly easy, as you will have gathered from this narrative. For a number of millennia following the angelic rebellion, the chaos that ensued effectively destroyed any semblance of what M A’s mission had so laboriously built up in the almost 300,000 years the city was flourishing. It was true. All the irritation and frustration we went through in the era before the revolution was far preferable to the terrible times that followed. I’m speaking here of Caligastia’s Northwestern Empire after the Prince finally felt confident enough to abandon all restraint. He’d convinced himself by this time of his divine right to act exactly as he saw fit.

He knew he was unlikely to get any interference from M A, and with Van well out of the way and forgotten about, he instituted a regime across his many principalities of such harshness that this world soon became known as the most unfortunate of all thirty-seven planets aligned with the rebellion. Van’s many small settlements, distributed from Persia to China, including the Indian subcontinent as well as on some of the larger of the islands in Indonesia, all followed Van’s teaching to one extent or another. Progress had been painfully slow without a full complement of staff. Everything had depended on Van and the few midwayers who remained loyal to him. Superhuman though Van might have been, he was a single being who could only be in one place at a time. Caligastia’s modus operandi was different. On the few occasions his midwayer espionage agents had managed to break through the layers of subspace shrouding and return with news of Van’s slow and halting progress, I could see that the Prince thought the comparison laughable.

Although the failed invasion was never to be talked about, the Prince was still savvy enough to want to keep an eye on his enemy. This was not as simple as it might appear. Granted, he may have had many more midwayers at his disposal to do the spying, but it didn’t take more than half a dozen of Van’s midwayers to throw up so much subspace scrim as to make it almost impossible to penetrate. Naturally, this was also true in reverse. However, Van’s interest in Caligastia’s empire had become negligible after the invasions failed and the Arabian deserts were proving to be such an effective barrier. The new regimen the Prince had been implementing for the past three hundred years throughout his many principalities had capitalized on the mutual suspicion and hostility his midwayers were covertly sowing among the ruling kingdoms. As previously mentioned, this had resulted over the years in two dominant powers, each of which had absorbed its immediate neighbors into its own sphere of influence.

Almost all this activity was focused around the Mediterranean region and the Middle East, to use contemporary terms, with one kingdom stretching from the Atlantic coast of Spain, through southern Europe to the western shore of the Black Sea, and then south to include Turkey and Palestine. The second kingdom extended along the North African Mediterranean coast to Morocco and then south down through Sudan, Ethiopia, and Somalia to Kenya and the Great Lakes, with its political center near Alexandria. It should also be remembered that what is now the northern Sahara Desert was at this stage, before the changing climate later rendered the whole region a desert, a fertile, wooded region with many shallow lakes, rich in game, and with a rapidly growing human population. Caligastia would have been well briefed prior to the mission about the anticipated climatic changes that he might encounter during the half a million years he was expected to remain active on the planet. He understood the rhythmic pulsing of the ice ages.

He knew that the most recent of the great ice sheets had started to recede, and the ice sheets that had pressed down to cover most of North America, northern Europe, and Russia were now gradually withdrawing. Back around the time of the rebellion some 110,000 years earlier, when climatic conditions had been dramatically changing for several thousand years, this most recent period of severe glaciation had started reaching deep into the Northern Hemisphere. This had forced a massive southerly migration of the tribes that had ventured into the northern regions of Europe, as well as the many species of animals and birds seeking warmer habitats. This migration south had contributed significantly to the chaos Caligastia encountered when he tried to bring the kingdoms under his control. However, because the ice sheet took almost 100,000 years to creep so far south, Caligastia also knew the ice would take about the same length of time to fully withdraw. This information was giving him the distinct advantage of knowing which territory would open up as the climate changed and the conditions became progressively warmer.

The priests serving the Prince gained the most from this knowledge. To the expanding population pressing northward, as they followed the retreating ice, their priests seemed to have a supernatural prescience about the changing climatic conditions. Prince Caligastia’s scheme, as far as I could discern it at the time, was to ratchet up the speed of technological advancement by supporting a constant cycle of violence between competing powers. He appeared to have no preference for one side over the other; he only seemed concerned about subtly increasing the level of fear and anger on both sides, provoking their technological ingenuity and their ethnic pride. At first over the centuries, and then over the millennia, a succession of rival kingdoms rose in opposition to one another, each with a growing number of specialists devoting their creative energies to the development of more and more destructive weaponry. With his midwayers working through priests on both sides of the conflicts, Caligastia maintained overall control of technological development.

From observing him in action, I came to understand that he never allowed one side to gain too much technological superiority over another, because that inevitably slowed down the speed of progress. Thus, while great powers rose and fell, the weapons they developed continued to get more and more deadly. This puzzled me for a long time, because I saw no good reason why Caligastia was pushing so hard for weapons development. It was hard to believe that he gained any personal satisfaction from the terrible violence and the massive death toll resulting from the almost constant state of war, generation after generation. For all his many faults, Caligastia was no sadist. He was largely indifferent to human life by this stage and was only interested in people to the extent that he could use them to further his plans. When I heard the Prince talking with a couple of his senior midwayers, however, I started to understand what he was working toward. I should have known better. He had never forgotten his humiliation at the hands of Van. Although he’d kept it quiet, his pride had been so severely wounded by the failed invasion that he’d become obsessed with the idea of avenging the defeat.

Living endlessly, human time meant little to Caligastia. He could afford to wait as generations of humans lived, reproduced, and died, while their inventive genius produced progressively more and more destructive weapons—and the inevitable weapons delivery systems. As I said previously, this instigated a long, dark time, which I believe ultimately fell completely out of the Prince’s control and led directly to a series of dreadful catastrophes that almost finished off the human race. If I’m to plot the events described here on a pre-historical time line, the inevitable conflict brewing between these two Western powers within the Prince’s domain was coming to a head around 85,000 years before the current era. I call the conflict inevitable because by this time I had a much better idea of Caligastia’s plan. By encouraging a level of constant hostility between the two dominant powers, he’d forced them into what became the first of the world’s major arms races—the first of many, as it was to turn out.

As the centuries passed I observed the skill Caligastia used in manipulating this constant development of ever more sophisticated and deadly technological weaponry. Seldom was any advancement lost, because whenever a victor emerged in this ongoing battle for supremacy, the vanquished power’s technology was taken over, carefully examined, and the strong points were then capitalized on in order to produce ever more destructive weapons. Any study of weaponry over the many stages of human evolution will demonstrate a subtle symbiotic interplay between their development and the impact those weapons have on the societies that devised and made them. The recent cold war from 1947 to 1991 vividly illustrates this dynamic. Weapons both shape society and are, in turn, shaped by the fears and ambitions of that society.

Yet, another way in which a society becomes dependent on weapons development are the spin-offs that prove so valuable in everyday life. In this way, any society that seeks to be dominant will gradually and inevitably become a technologically advanced one. The few societies in history that have chosen a less belligerent path have invariably been overrun, sooner or later, by a more aggressive one. That’s been the way of the world ever since the days of the rebellion. Contemporary scientific belief holds that the human species— from its infancy about a million years ago all the way through to the modern era— has been moving in one fairly continuous chain of development. Many indigenous cosmologies, however, teach of a number of previous global civilizations—geneally four—that have flourished before their destruction. It is a modern hubris to believe the technology of today represents the single summation of the human journey. The rare examples suggesting that this might not be so tend to be ignored or brushed neatly under the carpet, including stones cut and joined with the utmost precision; a level of astronomical precision that continues to perplex; areas in the Sahara where the sand has fused as a result of intense heat; the dressed stones of Baalbeck, some weighing in at more than eight hundred tons and mysteriously transported from a local quarry.

These, and many more puzzling developments that will be emerging over the years, continue to challenge this limited viewpoint. Of necessity, these examples are relatively recent, drawn from merely the past fifteen thousand years of human activity. Little remains of anything from an earlier date. What hasn’t disintegrated back into dust has been lost in the earthquakes, fires, and floods that have periodically interrupted human affairs. There are some happy exceptions to the natural forces of entropy and decay that I have no doubt will be revealed at some point in the future. These objects and artifacts fall under a covert midwayer operation that has become known as the “Treasure of El Dorado,” lying at the root of many tenacious legends about a city of gold lost somewhere deep in the jungle.

I admit that I was curious when I first observed what was going on, not really comprehending what this small group of select midwayers were doing on such a regular basis, until I’d watched them on a few occasions. The first time was purely accidental. I was completing a personal survey of one of the great mansions near Alexandria, flitting (as I like to think of it) through the elegant rooms. I’d taken to doing these periodic reviews, entering homes and public buildings, observing how people—rich or poor— lived out their lives. I was frequently able to get a better idea of the overall state of a society in this way than by what I overheard in the corridors of power. This particular mansion had evidently belonged to an immensely wealthy man, one of Caligastia’s bankers, I supposed, judging by some of the rare ornaments on display. The house was deserted and yet, curiously, everything in it lay in its correct place undisturbed, as if the family had mysteriously disappeared overnight. The man must have had glorious taste, because every article in the place was exquisitely designed and made.

Then, slipping around a corner, I saw a small group of midwayers, one of them manifesting in the physical world as a tall, blond-haired, muscular man, all looking carefully at a large gold cauldron. It was elaborately carved with a four-inch strip that was encrusted with precious stones encircling the rim. I could tell immediately that it was a sacred object, used ceremonially and completely out of place in a banker’s mansion. This was a beautiful piece of work, but I had no time to admire it. The next thing I saw was the large blond man wrestling the gold bowl off its plinth and carrying it out of the house, accompanied by the other four midwayers looking on from their ultraviolet domain. It was all very surreptitious, and I had to make sure the midwayers weren’t aware of my presence. That time I simply made a note of it in my mind and decided not to follow them. I hadn’t yet completed my survey. The third time I spotted something like this happening my curiosity got the better of me. Again I saw the tall blond man, this time in a magnificently appointed temple on one of the hills outside a settlement that in later ages would become Jerusalem. His little coterie of midwayers surrounded him and once again remained invisible to human senses.

I couldn’t see the object he was holding until he turned with this beautiful artifact in his hands. It appeared to be a staff made of ivory with a pair of ornately carved serpents spiraling in opposite directions along the length of it. I caught a small explosion of red light as a beam of sunlight struck one of the ruby eyes before the man had wrapped a cloth around the staff and headed for the door. This time I decided to follow the small group. Although I shadowed the group to the entrance of a cave complex that I knew burrowed deep into the limestone hills, I chose not to accompany them inside. I admit to a touch of claustrophobia, not an unusual affliction for an angel in my position.

When they finally emerged some hours later it was without the ivory staff. The next time I saw this happening was a couple of hundred years later. On this occasion it happened within Van’s territory as I was visiting one of the great monasteries that had grown up around the Temple of the First Source and Center in northern India. I wasn’t able to see the object. It was in a small, mahogany box and must have been very special, based on the reverence with which the tall, dark-haired woman was carrying it. I plucked up my courage and followed them unseen into a deep chasm in the Himalayan foothills—a massive split in the land broken open by some tectonic event—and then deeper still into caverns leading to farther caverns, deeper and deeper into the body of Mother Earth. When they finally reached their destination and I was able to peer into a relatively small cave, it was hard for me to believe what I was seeing. There’d been a loud hiss and then a rush of frigid air when the woman reached high up above her head and touched a slight projection from the smooth rock face about nine feet off the ground.

The solid rock seemed to dissolve in front of them, leaving a hexagonal entrance into a chamber beyond that was lit in some way I couldn’t understand. What I could see and was unable to make any immediate sense of was an extraordinary profusion of objects, all of different sizes and shapes, some covered in animal skins, others gleaming gold in the soft light— hundreds and hundreds of beautiful artifacts receding as far as I could see into the cave. There were some machines in there, too. So this was the Treasure of El Dorado! Secret caches of some of the best, the most brilliant, and the most beautiful of the artifacts created by humans, from the time of the arrival of the Prince’s staff through to the present time. I’ve since come to learn that small teams of midwayers have been assiduously squirreling away these special objects in deep caves and caverns all over the world and that these hidden hordes will be revealed only after humanity has made its next great transformation.

I am a Watcher Angel and my name is Georgia.


The following is an excerpt from the Timothy Wyllie’s book series on rebel angels, specifically an account as described by the angel referred to as ,’Georgia”.

To view this and other books by Timothy Wyllie, Click on book to view more at


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