Love Rituals of Meran Valley - Pt. 01 by Vintage87 703

Author's Note:

This is not going to be a quick read. However if you like building romance and not just the sex but love and personal development with physical intimacy I think you will like this book. This is also my first time writing anything, let alone erotica. I've work hard to fix spelling and grammar many time but there might still be a few errors. AI was only used for research for details on topics presented the story, no part of the actual story was written by AI. I've felt compelled to write this as recently I've made some life changes that I'm proud of.

I've felt much like Korban did much of my life at the start of this book. A nice guy that considered himself just average in many ways, often overlooked by others. While I have recently lost a lot of weight and taken more interest in my appearance, I've found it is confidence, bearing and a genuine love for others (still being the nice guy) that is what gets one noticed.

Enjoy the book and let me know what I can improve on. I think I have enough for a parts two and three ready for release that has the spicy stuff in it. Depending on the feedback I get on this first attempt.

To all the nice guys who feel average out there, never give up on yourself. Work on you and improving yourself for yourself first, find your confidence and you'll find a greater feeling that will naturally be seen by others.

To the women with a nice guy in their lives that might not have a lot of confidence, give them a chance and encourage them in any way you can. You might find one day they are still the nice guy you knew, now with the confidence to reach their full potential.

Love Rituals of Meran Valley Synopsis

On the brink of death from a failed expedition to South America, Korban Steele is rescued by the enchanted women of Meran Valley, a place full of and protected by magic and an ideal matriarchal society, composed of all races from around the world. There is a catch, the magic of the valley renders all men, including Korban, incapable of telling a lie and he must do anything any woman commands, the magic compelling him.

Korban soon grows to care for each woman as a friend as he learns their free spirit way of living, laboring alongside them. Alara, Fio, Eri and Tara their Queen soon become enamored by him due to his kindness, caring nature, hard work, roguish handsomeness, with all others in the village following suit.

His talents, that helps improve their community, something which no man in the past has ever done, only makes Korban more desirable. They soon ask more of him, something they need that only a man can give, if their way of life is to continue. Korban grows from each unique experience; navigating his feelings of inadequacy, romantic inexperience and the society's intense, even kinky mating rituals. He becomes the confident man these women need, to have their village survive into the next generation.

Love Rituals of Meran Valley

Chapter One

A few excerpts from Korban Steele's journal.

April 10th

My research is sound. A rare orchid known to grow only in an area called Meran Valley in the deep jungles of South America is said to be a cure for memory loss and dementia in aging humans. I found this information in a 23-year-old journal of explorer Charles Mann and some scientific medical notes from the time. Mann spoke of a miraculous valley tended by an enchanting people who grew the flower and other plants with astonishing healing powers and medicinal uses. Mann brought a specimen back with him, which was scientifically studied for a time. Mann himself disappeared a few months after delivering the plant to the scientific community.

The results were astounding! It did indeed prove, if not a cure, to aid in drastically reducing the effect of memory loss in test subjects. Can you imagine prolonging life where the mind is sound? Unfortunately, a fire in the lab where the flower was studied destroyed the specimen before more knowledge could be gleaned.

I must find another specimen and bring it back to the United States for further study and to see if the plant can be grown or its properties synthesized. I've become obsessed with getting to the valley. I've gotten funding and am putting together a team to recover a flower. Mann's details about where the valley is located are unclear; he speaks of rivers, cliffs, and waterfalls only. With new technology, much research, and even an odd intuition on my part, I believe I know where the valley is, deep in the heart of the South American jungle. The trip will be perilous, as no pilot is willing to fly us. They are superstitious, saying strange things happen in that area; odd malfunctions of equipment force adventure seekers to turn back. In some cases, people have never returned, trying to reach it or fly over it. It will be over a 100-mile hike through dense jungle, cliffs, and rivers and the same distance back, but the reward for quality of life if we succeed will be immeasurable.

I am 25 years old and in good shape and determined to go myself. I have a degree in engineering and am starting to study medicine, hence my interest in the orchid. I'll be part of the team and am confident in our success. I feel an unknown draw that I must reach this valley even if we fail to obtain the orchid.

May 20th

It has been two weeks into our expedition, and much bad luck has befallen us. We left base camp with myself, five other men, and two women. All were trained and experienced veterans and adventurers of the outdoors, and each had accomplished much in their lifetimes. All were fit, eager, and capable of this excursion.

Six days in, we lost Allan, a rather jovial adventurer with a pleasant demeanor. We were crossing a large, fast-moving river. He lost his balance on our makeshift raft and drowned before we could save him. It was doubly terrible, as he carried a pack with some provisions, one of our satellite phones, and some GPS equipment. The pack was lost to the river, and we could not find it.

Eleven days in, we lost Kami. She was quick-witted and loved to flirt with all the men. In the morning, we found her tent torn to pieces and covered in blood. A large animal must have gotten her and carried her off, yet we heard nothing during the night. We salvaged what we could from her tent and continued our journey. The next few days, the mood was much more somber.

May 28th

We have had several more setbacks. This week, scaling a cliff, several anchors came loose, and Rick, Chanz, and Eric fell to their deaths. What is odd is that the rest of us had gone over these same anchors just before and checked each one before proceeding, and all were sound. In addition, the rope that tethered us all together mysteriously broke. We had checked it before climbing, and it seemed sound. Perhaps there is something to the superstitions we had heard about in this area.

We are moving in the right direction, I feel it, though it is getting harder to determine our positions. The GPS sometimes malfunctions unexpectedly, and our second satellite phone was in Chanz's pack.

Fred, Sarah, and I are all that is left.

June 10th

We are weak. Disease and malnutrition have taken us; we are getting close to the valley, I'm sure, but our pace has slowed. Most of our provisions have been used or lost with our other companions. We glean food and water from the jungle, mostly fruits and water that collects in leaves from the frequent rains.

We are sick, so we stopped for a few days. On the morning of the second day, we awoke to find Sarah had died in the night, succumbing to fatigue, malnutrition, and disease. Fred and I buried her in a shallow grave. We both cried as we piled the rocks we could find over her body. She had been a fit, beautiful woman with blonde hair. Fred and I are all that is left; our only hope is to reach our destination and get help from the people who supposedly live in the valley. We both fear that we will perish soon, and there will be no one to bury us.

June Sometime

Fred and I are so sick that we hardly make any progress each day. We have been using the sun and night stars to help guide us. All navigational electronics have either been lost or failed. We are thin, weak, and sick. Near midday, we stopped to rest and get some sleep. I awoke sometime later and shook Fred to wake him. He did not stir. I could see he was not breathing, and I checked for a pulse; there was none. He is dead. He had been the strongest, most robust of us all, a burly red-haired man with a muscular physique. Weak as I was, I knew I did not have the strength to bury him. I had slept some but felt that I must expire soon myself. All I want to do is sleep and possibly never wake up, but some unknown driving force is calling me to the valley.

I took what I could from Fred's pack into my own. I ate a small mango from the jungle and licked a few leaves that rainwater had collected on and proceeded in the direction I'm sure is correct to reach the valley.

Unknown Date

I have failed. This is likely the last entry I will make. I can go no further, weak from hunger, thirst, and disease; I'm about to expire. I'm going to find a comfortable spot to rest and sleep. I'll probably never wake up again, but death will be a mercy to how I feel. My clothes are ragged, torn, and dirty; my boots are falling apart, and I can scarcely find food or water. I hear noises near me in the jungle; some animal will likely get my body. I have a revolver in my pack, but I cannot use it. I'm starting to get dizzy and black out at times and would likely miss my target. I hope that one day my journal might be found and reread by human eyes.

End journal excerpts.

Korban woke up disoriented, lying on his side. He could not identify his surroundings. Last, he remembered he blacked out on the jungle floor, expecting an animal to finish him. He looked around, his mind quickly clearing. He was lying in a small bed, a light blanket covering him. There were several other small beds around him, all empty. He was in a room made of large stone bricks. Torch sconces lined the walls in a few places but were not lit. A few wooden tables lined the walls with bottles filled with liquids, dried plants, and folded blankets. A large window allowed bright sunlight and fresh air in; he noticed shades could also be lowered to block these out.

Turning on his back weakly, he looked to the other side of the room. Sitting in a chair next to his bed was a young, lithe yet buxom young woman with long braided, dirty blonde hair wearing a modest light blue peasant dress and cream-colored apron. She had been reading what looked like a old book made of parchment. Korban stared at her, confused. "You are awake." She said with a smile, both from her mouth and her hazel eyes.

Her face was friendly and had that girl-next-door look, her nose slightly upturned. "You've been asleep for three days. We could rouse you just enough at times to get you to drink some water and broth, but only a few swallows at a time." Taking a nearby carafe, she poured some water into a cup. "Would you like some water?" she said, holding the cup towards him.

Parched, he reached for the cup, downing the contents in large swallows. "More, please," Korban asked, holding out the cup. She filled it and handed it back to him. Again, he downed the contents quickly and handed it back to her. "Do you want more?" the woman asked, taking it. "No," he said, lying back on his pillow, panting. He was weak and struggled to move. "Where am I, and who are you?" "You are in the infirmary in the palace. I'm Fio; I watch over the ward. Clio, our librarian, royal aide, and medicine woman, has mixed up some herbs to help you heal. It must be taken with food. Do you think you could swallow some broth?"

"How did I get here? Last, I remember, I passed out in the jungle." He asked ignoring her question. "Alara, was hunting and found you. She quickly returned and told the queen, and she sent a few of her guards back with her to fetch you. You were barely alive; another hour or two and it would have been too late." Taking a cloth from a bowl, she wrung the water out of it and pressed it to his forehead. The cool cloth felt soothing. Korban lay there for a couple of minutes as she moved the cloth over his face. "Would you like that broth now?" she said, removing the cloth and placing it back in the bowl. "Yes, please, but first I need to use... umm... relieve myself." "Oh," Fio said with a smile. "Let me help you." Korban made to get up but could hardly move. Fio gently grabbed his arms and helped him to rise. Her grip was both strong and gentle like a woman used ot physical labor. Upon removal of the blanket, he realized he was naked and that he had been cleaned of the dirt and grime he had when he passed out. Embarrassed at first, he quickly got over it. He wasn't sure he could leave the bed, let alone do his business without falling.

Fio pulled a bedpan from under the bed and helped position him to kneel over it. She continued to hold him upright as he used it, both defecating and urinating. Taking some coarse cloth, she cleaned both his front male and inside his backside cleft. He was again embarrassed but felt slightly dizzy. He needed to get back in bed. Fio threw the soiled cloth into the pan and lifted him back into the bed, covering him with the blanket. He lay there panting with the exertion.

"I'll get you some broth," Fio said, grabbing the full bedpan and leaving the room. After a few minutes, she returned with a large cup. Setting it on a nearby table, she took a bottle of dried herbs and put some in the broth. Returning to his bed, she handed him the cup. Wary, he asked, "What did you put in it?" "Some local herbs that will cure you of disease and help you get your strength back. We all take them daily in our food; we never get sick, just injured. You are the first full-time patient I've had in several weeks." Fio said.

The broth was warm but not hot and smelled good. He quickly drank it all, savoring the delicious flavor of chicken and vegetables. Handing her the cup, he lay back down. "I have a thousand questions, but I'm too sleepy." "Sleep now; it will soon be night. We can talk more tomorrow. We have some questions for you too." Fio responded. Turning on his side, he watched as she sat back down in her chair picking up her book. His eyes closed, the last thing he saw was Fio's smiling face.

Korban awoke to a dim light coming through the window. He had slept well but still felt weak. The chair was empty. Fio had taken the next bed over from him and was snoring softly still in her clothes.

He rose and clumsily tried to pour himself a cup of water from the carafe. He made enough noise to wake Fio. She rose, stretching and yawning. "Let me help you." Taking the carafe, she finished pouring the water. "I'm sorry I woke you. I'm still weak." He spoke. "It is alright; it is nearly dawn. Let me get you something to eat. I was told today you can have more broth and a bit of bread." Handing him the cup, he drank. When done, she replaced it and left the room.

While she was gone, he lay there thinking. His mind was clearer today, but he was still physically weak. His memories came flooding back. He was in a palace? But where was this palace? His face fell, and tears came. He was the only one of his party who had survived. Seven men and women had died, and remorse for their loss was heavy on him as he wept.

Fio returned holding a tray with a large bowl and a hunk of bread. She again put the herbs in it that she had yesterday and brought them to him. "Do you need me to help you?" she asked. "Dipping the bread in the broth will help soften it." "I think I can do it." Taking the tray, he dipped the bread in the broth and took a bite. The bread was hearty, like coarse wheat, and the broth was the same as yesterday. He savored it slowly before swallowing.

"You've been crying; are you in pain?" Fio said with concern. "No, just sad, everyone I came here with has died. I was remembering them." "I'm sorry," Fio said, her face falling. "Were you close to them?" "Not really well, but all life is precious; we were on an expedition to try and reach Meran Valley."

"You made it at least." Fio's face brightened. "This is Meran Valley." Korban stirred, trying to sit up excitedly, sloshing the broth. "Calm down." She chided, easing him back into the bed. "I'm sure you have lots of questions. You need to get your strength back first. Then the queen will tell you all you need to know when you have an audience." "I never asked you your name yesterday; what is it?" "Korban, Korban Steele." He replied. "Korban," she smiled, closing her eyes. "That is a nice name. I've heard the outside world uses surnames. We don't have surnames here. Only our first name. I'm just Fio." Korban continued to eat the rest of the bread and broth as he listened.

They talked for a while longer. Korban tried to ask questions; Fio's answers were guarded, answering that the queen would answer his questions in time. She did let slip a few things. He had felt his hair and beard and commented that he could use a cut and a shave. "A few of our shops are working on making clothes and items that men use from the notes and records in our library." "When you are well, you can go to the village and get what you need there, or have it made." "We have many trades and specialties. Each one of us has a specific trade we are good at, and we come together and help each other when the task is too big for one person. Like raising a hut or building."

Korban was starting to get tired. He had Fio help him use the bedpan again and asked to sleep more. "Rest all you want." She said, taking the used bedpan. "You'll likely be hungrier when you wake. I'll ask Clio if you can have something more besides broth and bread." Korban's eyes shut, and he was asleep before she left the room.

For the next several days, Korban slowly recovered. His clothes were so damaged and dirty that he was told they had been burned. They did keep his backpack; he had slowly dropped what he didn't need on his journey to the valley as his strength waned. Only his revolver, some bullets, a multi-tool pocket knife, his journal, and a pencil remained. On the fifth day, he was given undergarments to wear. They had measured him when he was first brought in, and they fit him perfectly.

A few other women came in with minor ailments from time to time. One with a severe cut on her arm that Fio stitched up and bandaged after administering an ointment. Another with a sprained ankle that she wrapped up. Korban listened as Fio hummed a soothing tune; it seemed to calm him as it did her patients. One had worn a similar dress to Fio; the other had course pants and a light blouse. They never spoke to him, just Fio; he could sometimes feel them looking at him. When he moved to make eye contact, they looked away.

Love Rituals of Meran Valley - Pt. 01

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