So after a month of no updates I think I should probably give some kind of explanation. First I will just let you guys know I AM still at hard work writing Dark Roots Part 4 (which I think I will divide in half and make a part 4 and 5 just to make the size more manageable for reading). However I got a new job not too long ago and it has taken up nearly all of my time getting into that. But things are clearing up now and the writing is back on track.

Considering the content of what I'm currently writing I think most of you will understand why it has taken time as well. I'm shoving what should rightfully be several chapters worth of development into one (two?) parts. And even though I enjoy the challenge it needs to be done properly or it will just come off as incoherent and cluttered with bs.

So yes, still writing and the update WILL arrive. I can't say when for sure, so what I will say is that it will come when it is ready.

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And ehh, why not. Here, have a few pages of the beginning:

The cold wind brushed against Karon's exposed flesh, and with a shudder he tried to curl himself tighter to protect against the chill spreading throughout his body. It was a vain attempt, for there was more flayed skin than there wasn't, and in truth he was grateful for the cold; it numbed the pain, made it distant and allowed thoughts to enter his mind.

Like the thoughts that were slowly announcing themselves, hesitantly, as if scared that thinking might attract Dolor's attention and bring even more pain. Because she had proven herself able in her field, and no matter how far she took her torture, whenever Karon had shown she slightest hint at thinking it couldn't get worse, she seemed to take pride in showing him how wrong he was.

But the worst part, the worst part was what came after. After he had started screaming, after he had started begging, when all that was left was the will to do anything to make it stop, then she would stop, at the very brink of when Karon thought he was going insane, she would stop and pull him back. She would comfort him, cradle his head and heal his wounds. Her touch was warm and soft, her breath soothing, and her voice was always so sweet.

Karon had learned to hold on to that voice. In the beginning, he had held on to hope of escaping, and he had, many times. Then Timor had come, and enjoyed his hunt, enjoyed fooling Karon into thinking he had just managed to make it out, then revealed how wrong he'd been as he captured Dolor's new favorite toy, making sure he knew he could never beat him. Still Karon tried, many times.

After he had learned to stop trusting hope, the rage had come, the pain fueled his anger, and anger grew into blind hate. He had done everything to spite them all, it didn't matter what, great or small every chance to scream in rage, every chance to make their comings and goings a little more difficult, he had done it. Too late he had realized that all the hate had made him forget other important things, things he could now barely remember, like why he was even resisting at all, what he had worth fighting for.

And finally, after his hate had burned out and left nothing, all that was left was her voice. Dolor's sweet voice, even when she hurt him she cared for him, told him secrets, told him truths. About himself. But words wasn't enough she said, she had to show him, which she always did.

And in the end, as she cradled his head and lulled him to sleep, he always thanked her for it.

He had stopped resisting now, when she came to him. Instead he tried to do what she said, listening to every word she spoke intently, and did his best to please her, to answer her questions, to comply with her wishes.

She had noticed it, and said nice things about him more often, and even rewarded him in new ways. Like now, as he laid upon a cold slab of stone, and the snow and icy wind whipped at him hard, he stared out at the mountains he saw stretching out into the distance, and he felt no ill-will towards Dolor. This was a reward for him.

He didn't know how long it had been since last he had seen the sun, half hidden though behind the clouds above. When Dolor had first left him there he had hidden from it, too bright and too intense for eyes that had adjusted to the constant night of their forest.

Surprised at the thought Karon stopped his line of thinking for a second, and instead tried to look at it closer. The thought answered his command sluggishly, and came back into view only with great effort. He had thought of the forest as theirs, but not just the soul eater's, but his too, he was a part of it now, and even though he didn't own it, he belonged to those that did.

“Are you enjoying the nice view?” Karon heard Dolor's voice ask, and felt her both her hands come down and rub his head. The tiny cuts on his scalp stung, but the pain was familiar and comforting.

“Yes I am,” Karon answered hoarsely, the sound easily lost in the harsh winds.

“Good boy, then I think it's time to go home wouldn't you agree?” she asked again, her lips brushing against his ear.

“If that is your wish,” he whispered.

Her arms wrapped themselves around him, and the energy of a gateway opening ran like currents around them both. Reality shifted for a brief moment, and then Karon was looking up into a starry sky, with the shapes of the dark trees standing out, only distinguishable as the deeper of the black above.

“Get up my sweet, and let's take a walk,” Dolor said, her voice tender and caring.

Karon could barely feel any of his limbs, but he knew that Dolor would never allow him to be damaged beyond what she could repair. So he forced himself up on his knees and elbows, the motion sending jolts of tingling pain at the pressure, and gradually, with a lot of effort, he managed to force himself up standing.

Dolor never waited for long, and so Karon had barely found his balance until he heard the sound of her light footsteps heading away from him. He stumbled after, his rigid and cold legs unable to bend yet, and so he was forced to waddle, fighting to keep his balance all the more as heat started to return to his limbs. He was in neigh complete darkness as he did his best to follow Dolor only by sound, and he fell more than once as he walked into a tree or tripped over a particularly big root.

Despite the hardships, Karon never once fell behind. He knew what waited if he made Dolor wait- or even worse, if he made her have to chastise him.

Eventually they reached the manor, and once inside the warmth inside struck against Karon to the point it felt scalding. He started to shudder uncontrollably as heat forcefully returned to his limbs, and his teeth clattered so loudly he almost didn't hear Dolor as she spoke.

“Back home at last. I'm so sorry I didn't get a chance to take you into a nearby city or village when we were back there, but father has forbidden us from doing anything that could attract attention. A pity, it would have been so fun. We could also have hastened your training with a little help, but I guess it wasn't meant to be.”

“I'm sorry you didn't get your wish,” Karon dutifully said, and a small twinge of anger struck on his heartstrings, directed at Maeror for denying her.

“Such a sweet boy,” Dolor said and stroked a hand along Karon's cheek.

The touch stung, the sudden warmth had heated up his body, and blood now flowed freely from the wounds on his body. Even so Karon tried to smile at her, his lips cracking in the attempt.

“Do you want to return to your room and allow me to continue your training?” she asked sweetly.

“Yes,” Karon replied.

Dolor hesitated, and tilted her head to look at him curiously, her bloodshot eyes of fiery orange scanning for something.

“You actually mean it,” she eventually said, her voice pleased and even sweeter than usual.

“Yes,” Karon answered.

“Then I think this part of the training is finally done. You held on long and strong my dear, but you are now free,” she said and grabbed his face with both her hands, staring into his eyes deeply.

“Yes,” Karon replied, his voice a little confused.

“Then it is 'yes mistress'” now,” she corrected him, shaking his head and digging her nails hard into his skin for emphasis.

“Yes mistress,” Karon repeated, doing his best to smile at Dolor while blood trickled down her fingers from the wounds.

“Very good,” she whispered, then brought his forehead down to her lips briefly before letting him go.

Karon didn't say anything, he merely did his best to remain standing and wait for Dolo- no, his mistress, to lead the way. He was starting to feel woozy, and he knew it was from all the blood that was flowing out of him.

But he wasn't worried, his mistress wouldn't let him die. She didn't want that.