Before Alexander proceeded to Atlantica he had stopped into Castle Oblivion to see Etzolix. He sent his voice through the halls, whispering for the serpent. "Etzolix," the voices whispered into the wind, the echoes bounding back to his ears and wrapping around his throat like a scarf, constricting his own breathing. Once more, that hideous grin cut itself from underneath the hood. His sword drug along the ground, scratching the reflective and sterile floor but doing so soundlessly, and eventually even Alexander's heavy footsteps faded into nothing but vibration without noise. Alexander had began to hum, while the wind still spoke out.
"Etzolix, I have returned." Not that the serpent would care much-- he was a bit neglectful in that respect. He traveled up the stairs of Castle Oblivion towards Etzolix's throne room, and with his cocky attitude never fading crossed his arms. "I've also a new vessel in tow. A Neverland Pirate ship, stolen straight from under the leadership's nose. Two loose ends left, but I'm certain they're more frayed than anything else." He shrugged and laughed.
"In our last meeting, you failed to divulge a more detailed description of this 'Oriel' to me. I would require such before our vessel departs to Atlantica. Any information about that world as well would be of help." Some changes had been occurring in Alexander's mind that he hadn't noticed. The insanity he had in the field was feigned now more than it was true. His intelligence was, for truth and for all, resurfacing.
The future is not fair to the past because by definition it has already surpassed it.
"There was a sickness."