The Kingdom Of Curses

Chapter One

»I have already traveled too far, my mouth is the color of his mouth«

In the corners of Heaven and Earth laid a small stretch of lush acres which was ruled by monarchs. It's land was green, cows fat, and crops hearty and flourishing. Many said that Demeter herself had blessed their lands, making that small kingdom one of the most powerful in the land.

In this land, was a young man with hair the color of dandelion petals. He went by many names, women whom he had previous affairs with cursed his name as if he was Actaeon, and they Artemis, while others praised the boy like a true God. Yet, whether he be God or man, the young boy answered simply by the name Satoru.

"Satoru," someone called out, speaking his name in a low and smooth tone.

The boy didn't so much as lift his eyes, reclining lazily over the gnarled roots of an olive tree. He had been lounging for hours, asking those nearby to bring him the necessities that he needed- Wine, bread, fruits, lamb, and anything else which he desired. Tricks like that always worked for Satoru, he was charming, rich, and handsome.

"Satoru."

"Hm?" He said in a low, lazy, hum.

"You're parents would like to see you."

The boy hadn't even turned his head to look at the person talking to him, he hadn't felt the need to grace them with his attention. Instead, he sighed, raised a half-eaten lamb shank to his mouth, and took a large bite. The meat was freshly cooked, its juices dribbled down from his lips and glistened across the skin of his chin. He chewed, swallowed, sighed once more, and then finally turned toward the conversationalist.

"No, thank you."

Satoru had piercing blue iris's which invoked a stirring feeling in the hearts of any person who stared back at him. His eyelashes were the color of snow, practically translucent as they fluttered a few times while he adjusted his sight to the bright sun in the east.

"Is that you, Nanami?" Satoru adds, noticing the figure of the man before him, hands on his hips in vexation.

"I haven't the time for your idiocy," Nanami replies sourly.

Nanami was tall, close to surpassing Satoru in height, with golden locks that were combed back and held in place in a wreath of vines- vines which Satoru had plucked himself. Nanami, whether he enjoyed it or not, was hired as a messenger of sorts for the King. He doted on Satoru and the rest of the nobles, weaving his way through castles, estates, and vineyards with messages and packages and secrets. He was, for lack of better words, the entire city-state's secret keeper. Within Nanami's mind was an entire arc of secrets and gossip, things which he only kept to himself, and of course those whom he was told to deliver such words to.

"Nini," Satoru called to him once more, taking it upon himself to bestow Nanami a nickname.

"That is not my name."

He sighs, turning his entire body toward the blonde-haired boy and propping himself up on his elbow. "I never said it was," he snickered.

"If you do not come I will send word to your father that you have fled town," Nanami threatens bitterly.

"Good."

The blonde almost bites his tongue clean off, teeth-gritting so coarsely in his mouth that there was an awful squeaking noise that sounded in his eardrum.  So brazenly defiant, Satoru was. And it was not in just his words, his entire being rejected any type of structure, each hair on his neck cascading into pure gluttony and sloth. His pink lips curled into an adroit smile as he slowly crawled on to all fours, movements cat-like. The young boy's white cloaks slithered slightly downwards, specks of wine-stained its shining fabric.