I cannot express how sorry I am. This was going to be chapter 7, but I can't quite find the right words. I swear I started the thing at least eight times, I just haven't hit on a wording that sounds right. This is what my imagination gave me instead. It's what happens to Pythor before the events of all the other chapters. I shall now apologize in advance for next month, because I know that there won't be a chapter, because I will be involved in a very complicating school writing project. It will last all month, but after that my writing pattern should return to a chapter every one or two weeks. Don't worry, I have not abandoned the story.


A failed plan, that's what he thought of whenever he heard the words "The Great Devourer." He couldn't understand quite what had happened. Why did the Devourer eat him? He, who liberated the Devourer. He, who united the Serpentine tribes. He, who was the last Anacondrai, the greatest to ever live. Only one thing came to mind, one thing that obviously played the lead in the whole disaster, the ninja.

How he wished that he could crush those ninja. How he wished that he could make them feel the pain of losing. It was possible once, but no longer. And why? Why did the Serpentine desert him, when he needed them the most? It was because of those ninja. If he saw one more poster, heard one more broadcast, about how great the ninja were, he would go berserk.

But he was safe from that now, now that he was out of the city. When the Great Devourer exploded, he got blasted far from the site, almost on the other side of the city. For a few days he had to lay low, wait for everything to calm down. Then, he got out of there. High-tailed it to the country.
So, what now? Where would he go? Certainly not back to the Serpentine, not yet. He was making do with looting villages in the night, but such a thing would not be possible forever. One day he might get caught. Sure, he could turn invisible, but who wants to spend their whole life that way. Certainly not he. There was no where to turn, his own kind had abandoned him and where he was now was undesirable. Where-?

Pythor froze his endless pacing at the sound of voices.

"I swear I saw one. It was purple and huge. I think it was an Anacondrai. You've got to come see." It sounded like a little boy, a good afternoon snack.
"I don't believe it, they're trapped remember, behind the iron doors. That and it's not like there are any Anacondrai left." That sounded like an older boy, his voice was deep, deep enough that it was apparent he had at least reached puberty if not surpassed it. A more filling meal than the young one.
Of course then there was the issue of subduing them and the larger boy would be an issue. But invisibility was always an advantage.

Pythor turned invisible and slid out from his cramped hiding place. There were indeed two people out there, a small boy and one who might have been 19 or 20. They would truly be tasty morsels after his many days eating scarce. As Pythor began to creep up on the two, an entertaining idea entered his head. Without much more thought, Pythor turned visible and tapped each boy on the shoulder.

They turned quickly and, at the sight of Pythor grinning at them, fell... on their knees and into a bow. It was hardly a reaction that a large Anacondrai got from his prey, but somehow it seemed only right that foolish humans should bow to those who are stronger. It did not matter anyway, they would be gone in a few minutes.

And then the older spoke,"Oh, great Serpentine, leader and last of the Anacondrai tribe, we are honored that you would show yourself to us."

Well, yes, that makes sense.

"I ask only that you do not eat me."

Excuse me?

"My friend and I can see that you are in a tough situation, you are much too thin and much too dirty, and would like to offer you a place to home is very large and filled with food. It would be an honor to have you lodge with us."

The boy was sly and crafty, Pythor could not eat them without losing the prospect of a better place to stay and could let him live, still with the prospect of a good meal. A great deal of respect was felt towards the boy, but there was also annoyance. Why couldn't he have made it easy? The death would have been quick, little to no pain until he was being digested.

Pythor's stomach rumbled and the boys jumped. Quickly, the older of the two pushed the younger towards Pythor.

"I had not realized you were quite so hungry," he said," This boy was already marked for death, you may eat him."

It did not make any sense, his prey never offered up a young one for dinner. The little boy looked up at Pythor with fear and, for a moment, Pythor hesitated, but then, in one swift, fluid movement, snatched him up and swallowed. Almost immediately, his hunger was sated.

He waited for a few minutes as his meal struggled and eventually suffocated. Once the boy's kicks stopped, Pythor turned back to his shelter, ready to rest and digest.

And then the other guy spoke,"My home is this way."

Pythor had forgotten about him. It was tempting to eat him as well, but the sound of suitable accommodations sounded enticing.

"Are you coming?"

Time was getting away along with his only chance for revenge. In a moment, his decision was made.

"Yes, I will come with you."

The man turned and walked on, Pythor trailing in his wake.