Fiver was stolen from his nest as a child, then broken and brainwashed into being a living weapon. He knows every way to kill a dragon, and he holds the memory of those he's killed in his heart. He knows what it is like to die by his hand in the way only a Skydancer can sense. Fiver can knock other skydancers out of the air with the aura of pain and despair he emits, but most of the time, he is a blank spot on other Skydancers' radar. Almost like he doesn't exist... or his soul is gone.

Sensitive Skydancers, with their empathy, make the best assassins... you just must break them completely first.

Among the priests of the Order of the First Breath, It is said that less than 1 in 1000 survives the breaking.

Too broken to function in normal society and too terrified of vulnerability to ever seek healing, this child soldier turned assassin-slave turned spymaster lives and breathes for war. He uses the tactical knowledge he was trained in to aid Clan AXQU's war effort. He trains up assassins and spies, using all the techniques he has known almost since birth. He assassinates targets the Clan leaders want dead, which was his original purpose to begin with. He kills and he kills and he kills because that's all he's ever done. That's all he is, and it's all he's ever been, at least to his reckoning. Survival meant killing, and obedience, and killing some more. The price of freedom, of ownership of himself, was slaughtering his former Master and his entire House and family. And half of His loyal servants.

Fiver carries it all with him, as a weapon to fry other Skydancers' minds. As he was broken and remade to do. Particularly sensitive skydancers can suffer brain damage from contact with his mind... if he ever drops his shields enough to let them in.

Healing from everything he is, everything he was molded into, everything he has suffered, would require an openness with others that would have killed him growing up. It is unlikely that Fiver will ever choose to heal. It goes against everything that has kept this tired, broken, battered old rooster alive for so many years. The only solace he can find is in his friend Enchant, the former Patriarch... who also suffered at the hands of the Order of the First Breath.

Those who know him, though? Empaths and mind readers can only see the smooth, seamless, impenetrable wall of his shields: bland, colorless, inoffensive. Those who interact with him find him rather boring, with no real interests outside his work. Silent steps, no real sense of humor, not much to say when he's not working. This lends him an air of mystery, which leads him to nest with many fine women, but he has no interest in the offspring and only faint pleasure in the act of nesting itself.

The only time anyone has ever seen Fiver smile is when he's alone with Enchant or his apprentice, sharing a small joke that only the two of them would ever find funny.