Hah'en's story had not been fiction, not completely. Dramatized, yes, but Hah'en had heard the story from another dragon and dragons did not tell lies to one another. The dragon Hah'en had heard this tale from had explained it was the story of their mother, who'd been stolen away as a young dragon maiden from her cave by a human rogue. Just like in the tale only the flower, that dragon's mother, had come out of their adventure alive. And when Hah'en had experienced her first love as well as its end she'd spoken said tale many many times. Hah'en had felt the flower's pain, because she had been betrayed by her love only to see him die and despite his betrayal she had felt unbearable sorrow. It had been...a dark period in Hah'en's life. Which was why she always told that story the best, why she expressed emotion so genuinely.
Hah'en expected praises or sweet words from Adryan, but instead she saw his face sink. This reaction was surprising, and Hah'en realized her disappointment from earlier must've hit Adryan harder than she had intended. Perhaps Adryan was experiencing the alcohol's effects as well.
"Adryan-"
Hah'en began, but he beat her to it as he started a story. A story that Hah'en was absolutely certain was true and Adryan's very own. It was a story that Hah'en had heard many times before, from many different lips. But this story was Adryan's and thus one of a kind. Not for a second did Hah'en doubt Adryan's words, as she listened to him quietly, all her attention captured by the man before her. And when the story ended Hah'en was speechless.
"...Thank you."
That was all Hah'en said after 10 or so seconds of silence. And she meant it, from a man like Adryan a story like that must've required a lot. Hah'en felt guilty for partially manipulating the man to tell it. But that merely meant that Hah'en would have to return the favour. No matter how hard it would be.
Hah'en downed the rest of her drink, she needed to be bit more drunk for this, and set the glass down with precision.
"The first time I killed someone I was 15."
Hah'en began, keeping her voice as steady as possible.
"I spent most of my childhood in captivity. I had my own room, got decent clothes and ate three warm meals a day, but I was owned. A slave. It wasn't freedom. The one I killed was the woman who owned me. She had killed my family, and she in turn taught me how to kill. She said I had potential to be an assassin. But all I wanted was to kill her."
There was a dark tone to Hah'en's voice now, and her dark blue eyes went even darker as she looked at her empty glass.
"It was the afternoon three days after my birthday. It was very warm. We stood in the training hall, it happened in an instant. I think she allowed me to cut her down, she could see I was finally ready, that I had had enough. And when I did it I felt no remorse, only satisfaction."
Hah'en paused, perhaps giving the impression that she was done. But no. Hah'en continued after few beats of silence, the dark tone gone now, only leaving behind a tinge of sorrow.
"The guilt came few days later, after I'd fled to the mountains. My tears and cries didn't stop for hours, I felt blood on my hands and face for days. I have killed many people after that, but the first time will be the only time I will remember for the rest of my existence."
