FR origins story thing IDK

"Urrgh, alright, alright. If I tell you the damned story, will you finally leave me alone?" The scarred Guardian said with a sigh, turning his great head to face you.
You nod enthusiastically, not wanting to betray the excitement within you. After weeks of badgering the dragon had finally caved. People talked of the Guardian in hushed whispers- he'd suddenly appeared on the Sundial Terrace one day, keeping entirely to himself, only communicating with just the one female. He insisted he had nothing to say to people, but the scars crisscrossing his hide told a different story. You'd taken it upon yourself to find out what he was hiding- no matter how long it took. And now he was finally going to open up about it.
His two yellow eyes stared straight at you as he spoke again "And if I told you the story wasn't sunshine and rainbows, nor something I want to tell, would you still insist on being told it?"
You nodded again and the Guardian groaned, letting it turn into a small growl as he dropped his body to the ground with a small thud. He turned his head slightly, keeping just the one eye on you. "Well you had better make yourself comfortable. I don't want to tell this again, so I had better make sure you got all of it to spread around to everyone." Without thinking, you too lay in the grass, the little blades tickling against your belly as your tail swished with excitement.

"Well then, I'll start off by saying you don't need to know where I came from, or my parents. I had two of them, they looked after me, I grew up. Pretty normal stuff. I had the one sibling, but he'd grown up long before me. When I hatched, he'd already left the nest to do his own thing. I only saw him a few times and even then only in my younger life, I barely remember him and no, I have no idea where he is now.
Quite obviously, I left the nest. What was there for me there? My parents to coddle me? One day I just took to the skies and never looked back. I spent some time in my home clan, honing my skills, but I didn't really feel like it was the place for me. So, I drifted. Took to the skies and let the air currents choose where I went. Eventually, I attracted others. Males and females alike, from all backgrounds, breeds and clans. There were those of us who didn't want to talk about where we'd come from and no one cared. We looked out for each other, gathering food, fighting off attackers, tending to each others wounds. Those first years, they were good.
But we soon grew too large. We couldn't find good enough hunting grounds to satisfy our needs and we began to starve. Eventually there was only one thing to do- steal. We came across one small lair and our mouths salivated at the vast riches of food they boasted. We had the numbers and so we attacked. We attacked the few that stood in our way and made off with as much food as we could carry between us.
A few of us weren't proud of what we did, but it was the only way we could have fed ourselves. We tried to go back to hunting, but our hearts weren't in it. We'd found a new way to hunt and we were no longer satisfied. We started doing it more regularly, going to weak lairs and taking their food. Because we crossed from clan to clan, we were hard to track down and no one ever managed it. Despite being thieves, we had honour. We never attacked those who weren't a threat to us, we tried to keep things non-fatal, we didn't take all the food and we never ever touched the nests." He spat the last words, nostrils flared and teeth bared in obvious anger. You weren't entirely sure what it meant, but it was clear you were going to find out.

The Guardian cleared his throat before continuing. "Our numbers continued to grow and soon we ran out of clans we'd never visited before. It didn't take long before we heard the whispers about us. The Clanless they called us. Sometimes even the "Godless"."
You gasped. When you were just a whelp, your parents often told you stories of the Clanless. They were said to be ruthless killers, the kind who flew into lairs at the dead of night and took away misbehaving dragons. But everyone knew they were just stories to frighten young dragons into going to bed on time. The Guardian turned his head slightly towards you, eyes focused directly on where you lay. He made no effort to move past that though, and you fought the urge to breathe a sigh of relief. If he wasn't just trying to scare you off with tales about the Clanless, then he wasn't a dragon you wanted to be on the opposing side to you.
"Yes, the Clanless aren't just a story. Don't think I have no idea what people say about them. We never marked each other in any way, so when we were in our home clans no one realised who we were. Stories have a habit of growing once you let them out. I'm sure I'll hear this one in a few years time with some utter nonsense thrown in. Even when we were still thieves, these stories were around. A few accidental corpses suddenly becomes "whole nests slaughtered". We didn't care. We knew the truth, let people think what they want.
As the years went on, we expanded beyond raids of food stores. We were cocky enough to go from thievery to banditry, ambushing goods along the roads. Sometimes it was just food, other times treasures. Not the kind that not even the most imaginative little hatchling could dream up, but treasures none-the-less. Banditry, though, leaves behind far more corpses. And soon a few grew to enjoy themselves too much. The more we did it, the fewer we left alive. At the centre was a Mirror that went by the name of "Theo". He was fairly new to us, only a year or so, but there was just something about him... we never said no to new dragons, you see. If they wanted to come along, all they had to do was keep up. But we should have seen the trouble he'd cause us and refused him.
Soon, we split into two factions. Tensions ran high. We argued over who got what shares. We argued over our methods. One day I had had enough. I sprang at the Mirror, letting out all my frustration over what he'd done to my brothers and sisters. We were both evenly matched, neither of us could get the upper hand in the fight. We grew tired and eventually those watching could break us up. If tensions were high before, they were ready to snap after that night. "

"Our next raid was another lair. It was the largest raid we'd done, but I think we all silently agreed we needed to work together to dissolve the tension that had risen. We swooped in at night, using the darkness to cover us as we ran in. As we made our way through the lair, no one woke to disturb us. At the time, we were just glad for things to be going perfectly for us. In hindsight, we should have seen something was wrong.
The ground beneath our feet was wet, but again we saw nothing wrong. It had rained earlier in the day, clearly the ground hadn't properly dried up. I made my way to the treasure stores of the lair, where I met the Mirror that had caused so much trouble. He had been part of a scouting group earlier in the day, then should have been waiting at the edges of the lair, making sure none of the dragons ran off for help. He should never have been there. Rightfully I questioned it and in the darkness I saw his mouth curl into a sneer before he spat fire on some nearby dry wood. In the light he had created, I could see his hide was covered in blood. ... As well as the ground. My own feet, too. Surrounding us were the corpses of the entire lair. The scouting group had slaughtered them in their sleep. But most importantly, he stood within the nest. Around his feet were pieces of eggshell, slime and the half formed hatchlings that stood no chance at life. I was horrified. As far as our morals had slipped, we had never fought those who couldn't defend themselves. Eggs posed no threat, they did not deserve to die before they even lived. Yet he laughed at this. Laughed at my shock, my horror, my disgust. Before I could get my senses back, pain erupted all around me. He had sent those who followed him, over me, to attack. No doubt the fire was the signal they were waiting for. I stood no chance as they attacked me, even if I did fight back. Eventually my consciousness faded."

"I assume they left me for dead there, among the corpses of those I only intended us to steal from."

"Eventually, I awoke. My body hurt all over, my throat was dry, my stomach empty. I groaned and tried to get to my feet- I had to get out, I had to survive for those who couldn't. But my body just couldn't support itself and I slumped back down. An overwhelming sense of failure washed over me. Despite everything, I had lived... only to slowly die. And then I heard a voice. In truth, I still don't know what was said. My mind was too far from the world to really take it in. And that's when she came into my vision. A Tundra female. She had come to see if there were any survivors... only to find me. She alone dragged me from the scene and spent her time trying to heal my wounds and get me to wake. It took me a few days to be well enough to fully understand where I was, or what she had done. But I don't think I've ever been so grateful for someone in my whole life. For what felt like an eternity, I was too weak to move very far, so she let me borrow her scrolls to pass the time. Before my life was on fighting to survive, but she introduced me to a life beyond that. Eventually I grew strong enough to tell her the truths I speak to you now. I couldn't say them before, because I feared angering her- feared losing her help.
But she wasn't angry, only... sorrowful. She gave me a shoulder as I broke down over what happened. For what I had done, I didn't deserve such kindness. Yet she still gave it to me. Since then, I've never left her side. No one else would take someone like me in and I felt obliged to repay her for all she had done for me. Soon I was at full strength, and together we decided it was best to leave, eventually choosing to settle here. Theres... only the two of us, but the quiet is welcome. I haven't been the same since that night... it's better for me to be alone..." The Guardian trailed off, his head now lay facing from you so you couldn't see his expression, but there was sorrow in his voice. You stayed quiet, not really sure what to say to him. It would have been rude to interrupt him, but just as rude to walk away and leave him. Before you could come up with a decision, he let out a deep sigh and turned back to face you.
"There, you have your story."
"T-t-thank you, sir." you managed to blurt out with a bob of your head as you stood up to leave. He stayed where he was, keeping his eyes off you, staring off into some distant memory. "A-and I'm sorry for troubling you, sir."
He lifted his head up at this, raising one of his eyebrows. "The memories come and go of their own accord. At least this way I have control over it." He shook his great head before standing himself up once more "But I shouldn't trouble someone your age with these things. Just keep up your end of the bargain" And with that, he turned himself away, slowly walking back to his own lair. You decided it was probably best if you did so as well- your parents had likely returned with dinner and they hated it when you were late.