Dragons Treasure Ch. 01

A.N. Hello everybody! Welcome to the new year and welcome to the next round of uploads!

I figured because Valentine's day is this month, it would be nice to upload a bunch :3 And we're starting off with a new story about Dragon's breeding bois!

Welcome to the world of Dragon's Treasure, where villages are dumb about dragon's and dragons just wanna chill with a cute femboy and pump him full of baby making goo every now and again! Lol, first chapter follows Flint, and subsequent chapters will follow different heroes and different dragons with the possibility of us returning to these characters in the future but we shall see.

The Following Contains: Futa dragons and femboys! Now obviously, the Dragons will be humanoid, lol this isn't a hyper story. Though that doesn't mean they won't be well endowed >:3.

I hope you all enjoy!

*****

"Urrrghh!" Flint panted heavily, his hands and feet scrabbling up the side of the snowy mountain, is quilted batting tunic billowing against his torso in the gusts around him. His baggy pants and boots were damp with the powder of snow and worn with his efforts to climb up. He grunted the harder that he pushed himself, trying desperately to keep climbing higher and higher up the tall snow covered mountain side. Glancing behind him to see if the villagers were still hot on his tail.

The dim dots of their glowing torches were still visible, but only just barely. Many of the villagers were older, and lacked the energy that he had packed into his ripe, young body. Having freshly turned eighteen, he could outpace many of the elders when it came to stamina, especially with his build, he was compact and small, only standing at about 5'3, however his body was toned and lean, lithe with plenty of exercise that gave him a great figure.

However, he couldn't exactly be thankful for this whole, in great shape, and coming of age deal. As it came with a few noticeable drawbacks, namely why he was fleeing from his home and the people he once called his friends and neighbors below.

On an annual basis, the village believed that they needed to sacrifice one of their youths to the dragon who rules the snowy mountain. Rumor has it, that the mountain was actually a dormant volcano, and that hundreds of years ago, the dragon of fire and lava ruled from it as their throne. And deemed that for continuous protection of the village, it required one of the come of age residents of the village to be brought up to the mountain, where they claimed they would be sacrificed into the volcano.

Was this true? Did they need to send a life up the mountain to die every year at the solstice of winter in order to appease the Dragon of fire that resided in it?

BULL SHIT!

Flint didn't believe that, it was an old wives' tale to scare children at night. Keep them from wandering off in the village that spun completely out of control and took on a life of its own. Paranoia and fear started to spread throughout the village some years back, some idiot Elder starting to think the tales were true, and now on a yearly basis, they send fresh eighteen year olds up the mountain to die in the cold.

And he didn't simply just agree to go up to his death, he initially flat out refused when he was chosen. This didn't sit well with the heads of the town so they literally incited a mob against him! Claiming he was trying to have their village burnt down, and people that he had once called his close friends, turned on him like the toss of a coin. They chased him out of his home, yelling at him to get up the mountain or they'd drag him up. It's insane how easily fear of an old tale can cause what he thought were good people to turn on him.

So now here he was, scrambling up the mountain as quickly as he could. Leaving behind the angry horde of villagers while he did his best to not slip and fall all the way back down into their wrath.

He panted, given a moment to at least catch his breath though, the adrenaline finally beginning to wear off, he leaned against a rock jutting out of the ground. His silver hair being pelted with matching white dots of snow, and now that the intensity had died down, he was beginning to realize just how cold it was up here.

Down in the village, it was already cold enough, but there were houses, fires and warm clothing. He'd been chased out without the time to grab anything warmer, and was stuck just in his thin, sleeveless clothes beginning to shiver. And up here there was no wind protection, so he was constantly getting buffeted by the gusts that drove by at this height. He crossed his arms and hugged himself, this wasn't good.

He didn't believe in the stupid, sacrifice someone to the dragon or we burn, folk tale, if anything, he half expected to see the bones of other sacrifices lying around on the mountain side. From previous people who just froze to death on the way up.

Now wasn't the time for those kind of thoughts though, Flint needed to get away from the village and somewhere safe. Hoping that maybe there was an alcove or something nearby that he could huddle into and get out of the wind. So he pushed off the rock and started marching upwards and to the side again, not intending to climb to the top at all, he was away from the villagers, they didn't need to know he wasn't following their lying traditions. He just needed to get somewhere so that he wouldn't freeze.

With one last look down at the place he called home, he turned his head and shuffled on. Leaving behind his house, his friends, everything he knew, taken from him. Because of a story...

It wasn't fair, but it was what he was dealing with now, he needed to soldier on and find somewhere to go. He scanned around his horizon, and along the cliff face, hoping to see anything that could help him out. The nearest town was miles and miles from here so that was pretty much out of the question. He could potentially just sit and wait, grit and bare the cold until the sun went down and than sneak back to the village. Steal some clothes and some food, maybe some money and head out to start a new life somewhere far away. Or even better, hide out on the mountain for a few days, and when no dragon attacks, just walk back down and throw it in their faces that they were wrong this whole time.

Both of those options though required him lasting more than a night in this frigid temperature. And judging by how much his teeth were chattering, his body was shaking, and how soaked his attire was, it didn't seem like that was a viable option...he needed to think of something else.

His arms hugged around himself tightly, rubbing along his exposed skin as much as they could to try and produce warmth through friction. And he continued marching on, trying his best to generate as much heat as possible with his movement. Something the village hunters taught him, he'd need to find some type of shelter and get out of the wind. So he scanned while he walked, looking over every nook and cranny for something secluded enough to protect him.

But every alcove and outcropping just seemed to funnel the wind right down and in to completely buffet him with the gusts. His silver hair was whipping about, hitting him in the face and his teeth were chattering something fierce. All that he could hope to do though was keep looking, just keep walking through the snow, at a taxing incline while trying to traverse the mountain.

Pressing on and on, step after step, each one feeling heavier then the last. Flint had never felt this cold before, and it was only getting colder. His breath a thick vapor that was whisked away in the wind as he went, still wondering how this could have happened. How they could do this to him, it only capitalized on the pain that the cold gave him. The pain he felt in his heart made it worse.

"Just...stop thinking about it...keep going...keep going..." He recited in his head, walking along. A tiny speck on the side of the great mountain, barely visible among the swooping snow and white out mist. It felt like he had been walking for days, even though it was only hours. Everything shivered, he was soaked to the bone, and anywhere that might have been a suitable place to stop for shelter was quickly buried in the snow storm.

He looked around every few feet, hoping to see a glimmer of hope, something that would save him from this peril. But as the white out grew thicker, and he grew weaker, it all just seemed to blend together into a grey and white torrential mist of frosty wasteland.

Eventually, after travelling...Hells...even Flint didn't know how many miles he managed to trek. Three? Four? Seven? It didn't matter, because his boot stepped on the edge of some slipper ice beneath the snow, and skidded right out from under him. "Aah!!" He yelped and hit the ground hard! Landing in the freezing powder while more quickly started pelting him from above. He was so frigid in the cold that the fall felt intensified. It rattled his bones and now buried him half way in the snow.

He moaned in pain for a moment and started to lift his head, only to find that...it took so much more energy than he realized before. He'd been on autopilot for hours, just trudging as best he could, when he was suddenly jolted out of that zone, his system just seemed to flip a loop and crash. Trying his best though, he looked around again, hoping that the glimmer of hope would be out there somewhere. That he wasn't going to become just another 'successful' tribute to the dragon on the mountain. That he could find a way to prove the villagers wrong, that they were the evil ones for committing attempted murder by exposure.

Anything...a cave, a lantern light, anything that could help him.

But alas, he could not see any. No hopeful glimmer in sight, and the knowledge of that just seemed to suck the remaining energy right out of him.

Flints head plopped back down in the snow, feeling the wet flakes of more peppering him from above. Was he literally going to be just buried in an icy blanket for his grave? He was so young...he still had so much left to do...plus he wanted revenge against his stupid village! If there was any comfort in this, he at least could take that he wasn't killed by a dragon. The town was a bunch of idiots, and just killed him out of their own stupidity and fear.

He actually cracked a weak smile on his purple lips, shivering still but the shivers starting to die down as his body began to weaken. His vision starting to darken and the sounds of the storm drifting into the background, they say this is one of the more peaceful ways to go...guess it's time to test this theory out. And hopefully he lived a good enough life to meet the Gods on the other side.

However, as he started to fade out, there was a separate sound cutting through his muffled sense of hearing, and the wind seemed to change direction, as if something was billowing against it and competing for the gust. Followed by a big 'ploof' of white powder kicked up behind him, blowing the snow blanket off of his exhausted body. A sudden, incredibly comfortable warmth then began to radiate from behind him. His tired form managed to actually let out a weak moan as the sensation hit him.

It slowly started to spread out, coming over him like a muuuuch better blanket in comparison to the snowy one he just had. And through his blurry vision, it looked like a large...impossibly large, scarlet colored...tarp? Of some kind was being wrapped around him, only as it got closer, and the soft, leathery material wrapped him up, incasing him in a Heavenly heat. He realized it wasn't a tarp...

...this was a wing. One of a pair of huge, great scarlet red wings, picking him up, keeping him shielded from the wind and letting his cold, soaked body leech up such a glorious heat. He relaxed so much that he immediately passed out in their embrace.

Sometime Later...

Flint stirred slightly, his eyes fluttering for a few moments as his consciousness started to return to him. "Wh...whaa...?" His thoughts were still pretty muddled, but he was coming out of it slowly.

The first thing he realized though...was that he took a breath. He was breathing, so that means he didn't die on the side of the mountain. That was a good thing! But...how? He could remember the feeling of Godly warmth enveloping him, which he thought that was the pleasant sensation some spoke about before freezing. However, if he wasn't frozen...then what was it?

He tried to turn over, and he realized that he was resting on something soft, with something even softer wrapped around him. His hands groped about the surface and felt fuzzy feathers and soft pelts used as blankets and bedding. Flint was in a bed? How did he get there? Did somebody bring him back to the village?

Finally his eyes started to open themselves after a little more effort and he looked around through a tired haze.

This definitely was not his village.

The chamber he was in was huge! With a vaulted like cave ceiling that looked expertly carved, a little ways away he could see a tunnel that stretched back to a bright white light, most likely leading outside. Was...was he inside the mountain? A burning hearth was off to his right, crackling embers and little flames produced heat, about three times the size of a hearth you'd have back home, and there was a large jeweled plate set beside his bed, with freshly cooked food laying out on it.

Eggs, bacon, bread, sausage, seasoned perfectly and beside that, what looked like a goblet of fresh milk. How? Who did all this for him?

Flint sat up finally, although his body ached, still feeling fatigued from the frigid weathers outside and his long, back breaking trek along the mountain side. The blanket slid off of him and he finally realized also...that he was naked. He gasped, and snatched the blanket pulling it up defensively, what happened to his clothes? What happened to him?? The last thing he remembered was that crimson color and warmth, how was he even alive? What was going on?

In that moment though, it seemed like he would finally be getting his answer, as he heard a heavy sigh behind him. But not a human one, definitely not, and the warm gust that pushed some air around him told that it was something quite large as well.

His eyes dilated, and Flint slowly began to turn around, looking back over his shoulder at whatever this was. Only he suddenly had a pretty good idea as his weary brain slowly pieced together the puzzle. The large crimson wings, the intense warmth, a gigantic cavern within the mountain...and the more he turned, the more he saw glittering, shining coinage and trophy items of wealth strewn about. Forming up into it's own little mountain of a glorious treasure horde, and sitting at the top of it...was probably the biggest slap to the face his skeptic mindset could have ever experienced.

A giant...fucking...ancient...red...dragon.

Draped in a lounging pose, claws folded and relaxed over one another, its huge wings laying atop itself like a natural blanket. The rear of the cavern was even larger than the front that he had seen, to account for her massive size, she was gargantuan. And more tunnels had been dug around her forming almost an interconnecting series of paths making the old volcano mountain a type of living habitat. With the mouth of the volcano hiiiiigh up above, sealed off through either some magical or constructed means to prevent snowfall from entering.

Her scales were thick, and the deepest red he'd ever seen, her neck spanning the length of easily the main street of his home, he was barely the size of one of the claws on her hand. "....oh....fuck me..." Flint whispered before he was able to stop himself.

And on that little slip of the tongue, the bright baby blue glow of her eyes opened up, and looked right at him. "Hmm...you're awake little one?" A female, deep, womanly voice spoke.

"....AAAAAAAAAAH!!!!" Flint freaked out right away! He'd never seen a real dragon before! And knowing that the stories were true! She was gonna eat him! Or sacrifice him or something horrible! He needed to run now!

He shot out of the blankets like a bat out of Hell and booked it for the tunnel up ahead, where he could see the white light, knowing that was the snow reflecting, he didn't care that he was stark naked, he was running for his life!

The dragon actually arched a thick eyebrow, surprised at his reaction. She was expecting more of a silent terror given his stubborn personality from what she was able to discern, but definitely not fleeing in squealing horror. "What are you...no, stopstopstopstop." Her calm, bellowing voice nearly echoed in the huge chamber as she leaned off her horde and reached out. Her arm more than long enough to reach down and grab him before he could escape her reach. "Relax...relax, calm dooown little one." She kept her voice as level as she could in this form, it was deep and powerful, echoing with a vibrating alto tone from her huge mass. "I'm not here to hurt you, and you'll die if you go out there, oh-stop squirming." She said, almost annoyed with how as her hand scooped up the human Flint, he thrashed in her grasp right away. But his small size did nothing to loosen himself as she brought him back to his bed and plopped him down. "There, stay." Speaking sternly as his body bounced on the soft feather bed. "The blizzard will last several more days. Run out there in nothing but you're skin you will not last an hour, you're still recovering from nearly freezing to death. You need to rest, eat, and heal." She said with her motherly tone.

"Huh??" Flint sounded absolutely petrified still, his heart hammering in his chest, but after he gave it a moment for her words to resonate with him, he finally started to realize that he was not about to be destroyed. "W...wait...you...you're not gonna..."

"No I'm not going to eat you, nor sacrifice you, nor anything like that. The mayor of your village is an idiot." She said plainly, then with a claw, she pointed to the tray at his side. "Eat your food. It's gonna get cold." Again, a very motherly tone coming from her as she nestled back into her treasure horde to relax and...watch him?

This was rather...unusual. Flint really wasn't sure how he should react at this point, his eyes glancing over to the plate of food and cup of milk that he hadn't yet touched. It looked...well seasoned? He wasn't exactly super hungry at least mentally, food wasn't at the top list of his concerns, but if she insisted, he would.

So carefully he shimmied on the bed closer to the tray, picking up the blanket again to re-cover his nudity. And took up the tray, a silver fork with a leather wrapped handle was nearby so he picked that up too. The smell was yummy, and butter had melted into the bread, did she cook this herself? No way! She was too big, the tray was maybe a quarter of the size of her claw. The funny mental image of her delicately handling human sized kitchenware though did bring a small chuckle to Flint.

Another moment of consideration passed before he quietly began eating it, finally putting some good, hot food in his stomach and warming his weakened body from the inside. The dragon nodded approvingly, "Good boy. Now I've had just about enough of your village and their idiot leadership. Always bothering me with their fearful worship and 'sacrifices.'" She actually made air quotes with her claws, "It's irritating, and judging by your situation I doubt you have any desire to go back to them yes?" She asked with a tilt of her large muzzled face. Flint thought for a moment with a mouthful of eggs and shook his head. Now that he was calming down and eating, he was reminded of his horrible experience they put him through, and a prick of anger welled up in his heart. So he shook his head no. "That's what I figured, well, you're not going back there. For now you're staying in my mountain, you'll work as a servant for me until I determine what to do with that village." She stated, not asking his permission and more just deeming it so that this was going to happen.