Sirus

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Sirus was born to a poor family. The family travelled over all of Sornieth, doing enough odd jobs to get by but never earning enough to settle in one place. Sirus and his family were often employed in the dens of wealthy dragons, their fine things and rich food a stark contrast to the rags and scraps they were used to. Sirus, especially, felt that without such nice things he was somehow lesser than the dragons he served. He grew bitter and envious.
Once he was old enough to make his own decisions, Sirus began to seek higher paying jobs. These were difficult to come by, but Sirus soon earned a reputation for doing them well. What money he did earn he invested. Yet he rarely had enough for a halfway decent meal, let alone the fine things he desired. But he continued to work, hoping that eventually he would earn his fortune.
Sirus's hopes continued until an encounter with a business savvy spiral. The spiral's wealth and business were both well known, and Sirus saw the opportunity for success. After arranging a meeting with the businessman, he waited impatiently for several days.
When the day of the meeting arrived, Sirus dressed in his best clothes, which amounted to a patched coat and a moth eaten hat, and set out to arrive at his meeting precisely on time. Although he was much bigger than the spiral he met with, the tan and red spiral's fine clothing and stately demeanor made Sirus feel small. He began to stutter through his presentation, slowly gaining confidence. By the end he was sure the spiral would agree to his plan. This was not the case.
The spiral spent the better part of the next hour ripping Sirus to shreds. He left the meeting in tears, fearful that what the spiral said was true, that he would never be more than a poor vagrant. Wiping his eyes, Sirus allowed his pain to transform into anger. He vowed that he would one day he would rub the nose of that insolent dragon in a fortune 100 times greater than his own. Sirus would become wealthier than any of the dragons that had employed him. They would beg for his company. He would be the epitome of the upper class. By any means necessary. Sirus laughed at the portly dragon. His joke was far from funny, but Sirus was far from impolite. The portly dragon stumbled a little from laughing at his own joke. His wife helped him to a chair while Sirus turned to look around the room. His fur brushed against his silk hat, creating a slight scratching sound. The room was full of dragons dressed just as elegantly. The furnishings of the room matched their attire. Yet if the dragons knew the means by which his fortune was won, they would not dare be caught in his presence.
Soon after his encounter with the Spiral, Sirus committed his first crime. He was working under the manager of a small bank, a dragon that, although he was by no means rich, lived much more comfortably than Sirus. In Sirus's mind, this dragon had everything he wanted, and if, as the Spiral had predicted, Sirus would never earn this luxury, he would take it.
A forged letter. A free vacation that would take several days for Sirus's employer to figure out. It worked. After he left for the other side of Sornieth, Sirus took everything. Through manipulation of records he gained control of assets and absconded with every penny the dragon had ever earned. And he didn't stop.
After years of cheating, lying, and stealing Sirus was almost as rich as that greedy Spiral who had started him on this path. He was so close to beating the business man he could taste it. Now he just had to decide which of these chumps was his unlucky sponsor...
The quiet chatter was abruptly silenced as one of the dragons in Sirus's employ burst into the room. Two large dragons, officers of some sort, followed the scared dragon and dwarfed him in size. The dragons immediately took custody of Sirus, listing his crimes for all the rich and powerful dragons gathered in the room to hear. Horror marked their faces, but none were more distraught than Sirus. He was led away, cursing himself and anyone he could think of, vowing revenge against all the rich and powerful. His silk hat fell to the ground, his tousled mane gave him a savage look. A privately run jail managed by a group of vigilantes. That is where Sirus was taken. That was who discovered his lies. No funding, no access, just determination. He was ashamed to say he admired them.
Admiration didn't stop him from trying to escape. The prison was a floating fortress in the Frigid Floes, nothing but ice and freezing water for miles. Sirus waited too long. Made too many small attempts to distract from his larger plan. By the time he had bribed and clawed his way out of the prison he was weak from lack of food and space to spread his wings. He tried to fly, he had a decent head start, if he could just make it to the mainland he would be safe.
Dark spots clouded his vision. His shackles seemed heavier than before. No! No! Anger more than fear kept his adrenaline pumping. He would not be beaten. Not this easily. That was his last thought before his eyes refused to open again. Sun reflecting off snow stung his eyes as Sirus blinked awake. The excitement bubbled up inside him, he had made it, he had escaped.
Only he hadn't. It didn't take long for Sirus to realize that the chill of the night before was gone. He was surrounded by snow and ice yet he felt no cold. He easily lifted his shackles, and the clanking of the chains sounded more like an echo. Confused, Sirus studied his surroundings, was he dreaming? Was it a test of some sort? What he saw was the one question he had refused to ask himself. A rumpled, half frozen imperial lay mere feet from Sirus. It's skin was tinted blue from cold and death. Surrounding the body were the vigilantes who had captured Sirus, prodding it, him with a sort of stick.
Sirus fled. It wasn't until later he noticed how translucent he was, or that his silk clothing was back, or that icicles clung to him and snowflakes followed him. Weeks of panic followed. Why was he still here? He hadn't seen any other dead dragons walking about, why was he special? Why did he have to suffer this?
Sirus tried to stay out of sight, although he had learned that other dragons could see him only if he wanted them too, and most took him for living at first glance. Then he saw her. A wealthy guardian. She had succeeded where he had failed. The anger inside him was unbearable. So he followed her. Within a week she had lost all of her fortune, her friends, and almost her sanity. But Sirus wasn't cruel. Only bitter and jealous. And dead.
He went on this way for some time. He could own no possessions, but he could make sure no one else did. Yet this could not last. He assumed they were another group of vigilantes, ghost chasers. Many had tried to capture him before. But these were no hobbyists. Professionals who had trained to capture him, to take him in, to restrain him.
Entering the premises was painful. In essence, Sirus was a being of pure magic energy. The workers of the Canyon Home for Dangers to Sornieth questioned whether he would make it into the citadel alive-or undead. But Sirus was only part Ice magic. Whatever else possessed him belonged to no element, and he survived. The containment module built for him was soon discovered to be imperfect, as he escaped quite often. But soon the guards stopped trying to catch him. He couldn't leave the bubble surrounding the Home. Whatever kept the magic out kept him in.
Danger level: Harmless unless provoked

• Beginning to spend more and more time in the Citadel
• No longer becomes invisible. Unknown if the ability still exists
• Poor relations with Hannover, attempt to keep apart
• Enjoys math, calm down with problems, NEVER use problems with money.
• Insists on following me anywhere he can, considering my financial situation the cause is yet unknown. Perhaps I, as his doctor, make him feel safe.