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Sebastian Duke · **01-29-2015, 07:45 AM**

Wednesday, January 28, 2015 | 4:04 PM Local Time | Illuminatus World Headquarters | Death Valley

To say that all is well in the Nevada desert since the resurrection of the Illuminatus Prince Thaddeus, would be an outright lie. Since the Illuminatus is not Eli James, there are no lies here. Only the truth. Good, bad or indifferent, when the King of Darkness allows you to steal glimpses of his personal life, nothing is held back. Everything that you see, is real. It's live. There's no retakes or re-shoots. Its not a set. Its not a reenactment. There is no director or producer. There are no writers, and no script. Just one single camera man employed by the Xtreme Wrestling Federation, sent to capture the story of Sebastian Duke.

The resurrection of the young Illuminatus Prince, Thaddeus Duke, was as real as it gets. The young man was killed by what Sebastian Duke referred to as a tyrannical King. Sebastian Duke came upon the scene just moments too late and was too far away to stop it in time. The King put a bullet in young Thaddeus Duke. He died several minutes later with his head cradled within the hands of his father. Your King of Darkness proceeded to take the Kings head and the cooling body of his son back to the Compound where Thaddeus would rest in peace for several months.

Sebastian, on the other hand, became a recluse. He retreated to the depths of his New England Compound, brooding and blaming himself for his sons death. It wasn't long before his brooding became an obsession. He removed the decaying flesh from the Kings severed skull and wore it as a mask. To hide his pain? His sorrow? His guilt? No one really knows. Several weeks had passed between his seclusion, and his rising from the bowels of the Compound, though it would not be a pleasant time for the residents in and around Old Saybrook. The small coastal Connecticut town would be ravaged by the charred remains of its children, their parents, and their homes. A vengeful Sebastian Duke cut down nearly twenty residents until he was discovered by authorities and recognized by the parents of a young victim. A simple mistake by the King of Darkness nearly brought him down permanently.

He was incarcerated, awaiting the trial of the century, at least in that quiet, usually docile local community. It was up to his Illuminatus to clear his name, despite his obvious guilt for the atrocities he committed in order to, at least in his view, avenge the death of his son. Something they accomplished by force and the power of manipulation. Barring any recurring similar crimes, Connecticut and federal authorities are prevented from trying to bring him to justice again. He's largely kept his nose clean since that time.

All of that changed less than a week ago, when as King, Sebastian Duke ordered that the High Priest of the Illuminatus resurrect young Thaddeus.

That begs the question, doesn't it? If Father Asmodeus has had the power to summon spirits of the deep, whether they be good or evil, all this time, why then, did Sebastian Duke wait until now to have his only begotten son resurrected from the eternal grip of death? What is the significance of now, rather than any other? Why terrorize those poor innocent souls? Why murder all of those kids that were so full of life? Why cut them down while still in their youth and not near the prime of their lives? These questions can only ever be answered by the King of Darkness. He'll tell you that everything he does has a reason, a purpose. Yet he rarely ever discloses that purpose.

Since the day of resurrection, Thaddeus has slowly been integrated into the society that is the Illuminatus. After all, he's the Crown Prince, heir to the throne. The Illuminatus, his future subjects. In his infinite wisdom, Sebastian Duke has ordered his most highly trusted adviser, Jacob, to look after Thaddeus. To answer his questions, or more appropriately, his demands. To ease him into the throws of greatness.

Prince Thaddeus stands high upon the balcony overlooking the parade grounds. Down below, the 'programmed' Illuminatus soldiers are at rest. They eat and converse with one another after a long day of training for the invasions that are yet to come. Jacob quietly approaches the young prince from behind. Being careful not to startle the young man who has rejoined the living so recently. Something he's not yet even aware of.

”Could you have them march?” he asks of his fathers best-friend.

”What?” replies Jacob, answering a question with a question.

”They're not doing anything. It's boring,” replies the Prince. ”Besides, father wanted me to observe today. I'm not really observing anything, Jacob,” he concludes.

”Thaddeus, they,” Jacob begins before being sharply interrupted by Thaddeus.

”PRINCE Thaddeus, Jacob!”

”Forgive me, my Prince,” Jacob feigns begging for forgiveness, all the while rolling his eyes.

”You will respect me as your Prince, Jacob,” Thaddeus commands, not once allowing his eyes to deviate from the hundreds of thousands of military personnel below. ”Don't think for a second I did not sense your eye roll behind my back, or your insincere apology,” he concludes, finally turning his head toward Jacob.

It is only now that Jacob remembers a story told to him in private by the King of Darkness after Thaddeus was killed. It was just after Sebastian had returned from county lock up. Sebastian had told him that he never even hinted to Thaddeus that he was indeed his father, yet somehow, Thaddeus just knew he was. It's like he had some sort of extra sense that normal human beings are not equipped with. It's a feeling you get, rather than an exact knowledge. Nothing is in writing in the storage files within the brain, yet the awareness is most certainly there. It's similar in a way, to that feeling you get when you're being watched. You can't see it. You can't touch it. You can't smell it or hear it. Yet, you can feel it rising within you. It's that very moment when you stop and look around for whatever or whomever is watching you. It's a sixth sense, in other words, passed down within the genes of the Duke family.

Remembering this story, Jacob silently condemns himself for his blatant disregard for the respect of the Prince.

”I feel like you're jealous of me,” says Thaddeus as he re-enters his private chambers. ”Whatever the reason, I'd like to hear it.”

”My Prince,” Jacob starts, stammering for the right words. ”I have nothing to be jealous of.”

”No, no,” the Prince begins. ”There's jealousy burning within you towards me. I'm not yet sure what the reason is, but I feel like, I'll have my answer soon enough.”

Jacob feels ashamed of himself. He had no idea he was showing anything outwardly that reflected his inner thoughts. Of course, it remains within the realm of possibility that perhaps he hadn't. Perhaps it was Thaddeus that picked up on some sort of thought or feeling within Jacobs mind or even his heart that has given him up.

”When are we going to war?” asks the Prince impatiently. ”It's so boring stuck in... wherever the hell we are. Where are we Jake?”

”Death Valley, sir,” Jacob replies quickly.

”My father is a smart man,” Thaddeus says with a slight smile. ”Organizing machinery for war in a place called Death Valley.”

Jacob takes a seat on a bench near the wall as Thaddeus removes his crown and tosses it on his bed. Thaddeus' room is decorated much like that of his fathers. Lots of ornate gold fixtures and crimson colored walls. Thaddeus throws himself down on his bed, staring up at the ceiling.

”Actually, you can thank your uncle,” Jacob says as he stands up.

”What do you mean?” asks Thaddeus as he props himself up on his elbows.

”All of this. Everything you see here,” Jacob begins to explain. ”The bombers, the fighters, the soldiers, the tanks, all of these buildings. It was all a gift from your Uncle Theo to your father. Your dad is my best friend, but he had nothing to do with this.”

”This Uncle Theo,” Thaddeus starts. ”Have I met him yet? Is he living here?”

”No, he doesn't. He's a high powered guy, Thad- my Prince,” Jacob says. ”He cares a great deal for your father, and for his father, but he lives his own life. He's quite a successful business man and works in the Intelligence community.”

”Would he like me?”

”Doubtfully,” Jacob replies, inwardly admonishing himself for being truthful. “Listen, I have a meeting with your father in a few minutes. I'll be back after. You can continue your questions then.”

Jacob heads for the door. ”I come off kind of ignorant,” starts Thaddeus. Jacob thinks to himself that being ignorant is an understatement. ”It's just that, I'm so confused. The last thing I remember is standing over a man wearing a crown, a King I assume. I had a sword in the air, ready to plunge it into him. I remember a sharp pain. I remember my father holding me, and then nothing. Just blackness,” he concludes.

”Sit down,” Jacob instructs of the young Prince. ”Your father told me the story after he brought you back from, wherever the hell that was. You had fallen for a young girl, about your own age. Your father tells me she was quite pretty. He thinks she had fallen for you as well. Not long before your 'blackness' as you call it, the two of you consummated your relationship one night.

“A day or so later, that man with the crown you spoke of, he kidnapped your young girlfriend while the community you were living in slept. When your father returned there, you had gone out ahead of him.”

“Gone where?” asks the Prince, deeply interested in Jacobs story.

”Maybe your father should be the one to tell you this story,” Jacob starts to backpedal.

”I'm your Prince, your my subject. I command you to tell me,” Thaddeus orders of Jacob. ”Besides, my father continues to avoid this subject.”

”As you wish, my Prince,” says Jacob hesitantly. ”The militia leader, the man that commanded those in your community, was her father, and he was at odds with the King. The small parcel of land in which that community was located was begrudgingly given to him by the King. Long story short, the King wanted that land returned to his Kingdom. The King,” Jacob says before being cut off by Thaddeus.

”George,” Thaddeus interrupts. ”That was the King, right? King George?”

”I believe that was his name, yes,” Jake confirms. ”Anyway, King George had sent his men out into the night and kidnapped your girlfriend while your father was away. Your father returned the next morning and you'd already left. Headed to the Kingdom to save your lady.

“Your father mounted his horse and went after you. Trying to stop you due to the dangers of being kidnapped or killed by the King and his men yourself. He's not sure what happened or how you were captured but by the time your father reached the square at the castle you were already on the gallows and the tyrant, King George was just giving the orders for your execution.”

”So my father saved my life,” the Prince exclaims.

”The story is not over, my Prince,” says Jacob.

”Please. Do continue,” Thaddeus requests rather than orders. A stark contrast to his demanding demeanor just minutes ago.

”Your father,” he starts, continuing the story. ”He was separated from you by hundreds of people that gathered at the square to watch your execution. Equipped only with a bow and arrow, he was able to place a dangerous shot that could have easily killed you instantly, right through the rope, severing the hangmans noose.

“You fought valiantly, as did my King. King George retreated into the castle and you fought your way into it. Slicing and dicing those in your path. Your father was quite impressed with your skill and determination at such a young age. By the time he fought his way into the castle himself, you already had cornered King George within his throne room. You had him cowering on the floor somewhere between his throne and a pillar.

“Your father was too far away to stop it in time,” Jacob pauses.

”There's part of this story you didn't tell me, but I somehow remember it,” Thaddeus says. ”The part you omitted was that before I went out on my own, my father and I had visited the King, asking for his clemency. He gave me a gift as a show of respect for a fellow warrior. Only the gift wasn't a gift. When I opened the box, it was the girls head. That's why I set off on my own. I knew my father would stop me. That's why I waited until he left the community to go after the King.

“I can not remember the girls name. She was pretty, I remember,” Thaddeus concludes.

”What else do you remember?” Jacob asks.

”I'm not really sure,” he answers. ”It's like everything is foggy, but as you tell the story, some fog gets lifted and I can see it clearly.”

”As I said, your father was a little late to the party. By the time he reached the throne room, he saw you had the King cornered. You had your sword ready to plunge into the King and the pain you felt before your blackness was a bullet piercing your chest.

“Afterward, your father said King George was surprised the pistol had worked as it was the first time he'd ever got it to fire.”

”Afterward? After what?” Thaddeus asks, getting the feeling there's something else Jacob isn't saying.

”That bullet killed you,” Jacob says reluctantly.

”That's not possible,” says the confused Prince. ”I'm sitting here listening to this story! I'm hearing your words! I live and I breathe, Jacob! I'm surely not dead!”

”You laid on the floor, bleeding profusely from your chest. Your father cradled your head in his arms and held you as you expelled your final breath. After you were gone, your father took his dagger and cut the head from King George. Slowly and without mercy.

“You were dead several months before we relocated here. It was only here that you father ordered your resurrection.”

”I don't understand,” Thaddeus says quietly.

”No, I didn't figure you would,” Jacob says, placing his hand on the Prince's shoulder. ”That's why I tried not to tell you that part. You'll learn about resurrection one day, my Prince. It's out of my area of expertise.”

”How did my father react to my supposed death?” the Prince questions.

”Not well. He did nothing good for many months. A lot of people died and it was just a mess,” Jacob replies. ”Your father has a very limited capacity to love. There's no doubt in my mind, that he loved you. If nothing else, he was completely fascinated by you. Your abilities as a man and a fighter were well above anyone near your own age. As if you were a born warrior.

“A matter of pride. He was very proud of you. Fighting so valiantly and with such grace against men that were highly trained and with much more fighting experience.”

”I'm a Duke, Jacob. We're born to win,” says the Prince. ”Surely you should know that.”

”Indeed I do,” Jacob replies as he looks at the clock on his cell phone. ”It's time for the meeting. Your father hates when I'm late.”

”I'm coming with you,” Thaddeus says while standing up and replacing his crown upon his head.

”You should stay here...” Jacob says before being interrupted by Thaddeus.

”I don't recall asking,” Thaddeus interrupts curtly. ”I don't ask, Jacob. I'm the Prince of the Illuminatus- whatever the hell that is- and I pretty much do what I want.”

”As you wish, my Prince,” Jacob says. ”Follow me.”

”No, you will follow me!” orders the Prince. ”Except I don't know where we're going, so I will follow you after all. Next time you will follow me.”

”Your wish is my command, my Prince,” Jacob says, laughing slightly.

”Is something funny, Jacob? Am I humoring you?” Thaddeus asks in a serious demeanor.

”It is funny, actually,” Jacob confirms as he opens the door leading to the corridor outside of Thaddeus' chambers.

”Screw it, let's go,” Thaddeus says. ”I've used up all the seriousness I have.”

They exit the room and head to the meeting.

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