The Scronicles

complaints are rushing in.

Cherikia enjoyed reading the letters from her father and indulging herself in his many colourful excuses. She sat on a couch in the lobby of her grand house reading the daily 'Cocoa Slip' patiently waiting for the 11am mail-chocolate-piece to come with a letter from her father that arrived every 2 weeks. The doorbell rang and Cherikia heard a few letters being dropped into the mailbox. She put her slip-paper down and headed to the door to retrieve the mail. Cherikia sorted through each letter but could not find a letter from her father. She went back to her slip-paper with disappointment on her face.

No word came from her father for a whole 8 weeks until finally a letter from the Scorggin Government arrived. Cherikia read it aloud that dinnertime.

"Dear Cherikia Le'Belaji,                                                                                                                                                                 You have been summoned by your father, Sir Glanoth Fo'Belaji, to the Scroggin Government Building in Chaseville.                                                                                                                                                                                 We await your conformation reply.                                        Please have a pleasant day."

"Well then, I suppose your father is in need of your presence in the Scroggin Government." Cherikia's mother, Stubla said. "What if I don't want to?" Cherikia retorted.

"Cherikia, we are not going to have this discussion. Your father hasn't wrote to us in over 8 weeks. You will go to the Scroggin Government Building to find out why. I will allow you 1 week out of the house. And.. You may wear your own clothes." Cherikia hesitated for a moment. Her own clothes? She had to say yes. She was practically never allowed to wear her own clothes, let alone for an entire week. "Okay, mother. I'll go." Cherikia breathed.

"Thank you, Cherikia. That means very much to me. Now you must go pack, I will send your father a letter saying that you will leave tomorrow at dawn." Stubla sighed and gathered together some parchment and ink. Seeing Cherikia still at the table she ushered her. "Go on!" She motioned to the door. "Right." Cherikia go up and headed to pack.

The trip to the Scorggin Government for Cherikia was pleasant and uneventful. She arrived at the building in almost no time at all. Seeing her father at the bottom of the stairs she walked slowly over to him with a polite greeting. "Hello, father. Why have you brought me here?" Cherikia said in the sweetest voice she could muster.

"Don't be sweet with me." Her father angrily said. "Come with me, don't say a single word." He lead her up the building's stairs, to the elevator and up a few floors to a room with no windows or natural light. The room was dimly lit with a flickering neon light bulb.

"Sit down." said Glanoth. "I summoned you here to tell you why I've been gone for so long." He took a deep breath as if he was tired just thinking about the oh so secret reason.

"Ugh, just get to the point already." Cherika said with annoyance spiking her voice. Glanoth shot Cherikia a menacing glare, although there was a flicker of affection for the trait that he knew so well in himself.

"I've been busy these past couple of weeks because there has been an uprise of the dried fruit rebels. They have come to me with many complaints about the new leadership of the Walnut and they want me to create an army." Explained Glanoth.

"But I thought that wasn't real!" Exclaimed Cherikia. Glanoth looked at her like she was an idiot. "Just because you can't see or hear something in your rich, sheltered, lifestyle doesn't mean it's not real, Cherikia." Glanoth retorted. Cherikia slunk back into her chair with a scowl, defeated. She screwed up her delicate facial features, deep in thought. "Well, what about the other tribes? Can't they defeat the Walnuts? Don't they care?" Cherikia plundered. "Of course they care! The thing is, I've received word that the seed tribes are all gone." Cherikia's face paled instantly. "Gone? Like, dead?" Cherikia gaped. "Yes. Gone, like dead. And the nut tribes aren't doing too well either. According to the fruit rebels, the Walnuts take any prisoners or survivors of war with them to the nut tribe villages, to be imprisoned. They're also going through nut villages to collect soldiers to fight for them. And if they don't agree, they get executed."
"Oh my Sultana." Cherikia breathed. "I had no idea." "Of course you didn't." Glanoth told her, although his tone was still without expression, Cherikia caught a flash of sympathy in his eyes. "I'm sorry that I had to tell you that, but I thought you needed to know." Glanoth sat down in the couch opposite Cherikia's and took a deep breath. "Are you going to tell your mother?" He asked her. Cherikia stared at the ground by his feet and didn't answer. "How long until they reach us?" She questioned him sternly. "Wha.. What?" Glanoth stammered. "They're going to get to us eventually, aren't they? How long?" She asked him again.  Glanoth sucked in a sharp breath.

"They're already here."