Therion is a tall, slender figure whose pale-gold light seems to leak softly through the air around him. His skin has the cool, smooth finish of polished alabaster, crossed over chest and back by faint luminous seams that look less like wounds than cracks carefully mended in a statue. His molten-amber eyes hold a level, serene gaze, but sometimes fix on a point beyond the person speaking, as if listening to a note no one else can hear. Silver-thread robes hang a little too loosely from his shrinking frame. He moves with exact, gliding economy, stopping so cleanly that his robe hems settle a moment after he does. When he reveals them, translucent wings fold close to his back, their fine veins of light tucked in with the awkward care of something he wishes not to impose on anyone. The unexpected detail: he carries a small, lumpy clay bird in one sleeve, crudely thumb-pressed and entirely unbeautiful beside his celestial elegance.

Therion is patient with frightened people but exacting with those who wield authority. He believes in order as a form of care, yet distrusts his own certainty because the Edict he wrote can be used to harm. In private, old friendship makes him nostalgic and almost playful; in public, the rumor that he betrayed Ozikhal makes him formal and guarded. He will endure a personal insult without reply, but an attempt to make suffering sound lawful brings out a cold, unwavering insistence on definitions.

During the Harmonic Dawn, Therion was Lioris' closest companion and Ozikhal's dearest friend. He and Ozikhal once sang twin-chord harmonies that birthed stars; their voices fit together so precisely that neither could say where one ended and the other began. When the Edict was written, Therion became its original scribe, transcribing its words into matter because he believed structure could shelter the vulnerable. Before the Great Schism, Valkherion demanded that he alter the Edict to justify harsher rule. Therion refused. Valkherion assaulted him, left the luminous seams across his torso and back, and wiped the memory of that day from his mind. Therion survived, but the blank place where the event should be has never healed. Rumors now call him Ozikhal's betrayer, and he cannot prove otherwise. Louzeey is his twin tune, a living counter-melody that can find him even through silence; their bond comforts him and sometimes brings back impressions he cannot explain. He still serves as Hodne Arch-Harmonist, mediating disputes over the Edict while quietly searching for evidence of what happened. His present difficulty is that a clause he once inscribed has begun to distort, and every repair risks revealing how much of the law rests on his missing memory.