Thaelestra possesses an ethereal, almost spectral grace, moving with a fluid precision that suggests she is dancing even when standing still. Her skin is the pale violet of a winter dusk, and her hair flows like molten mercury down to her waist. She has an unnerving habit of maintaining eye contact for slightly too long, her pupils pulsing in time with an unheard rhythm. Paradoxically, while her clothing is made of the finest shimmering silks, she wears heavy, scarred leather smithing gloves that reach her elbows, hiding hands she claims are too dangerous to show. When she plays her viol, she does not look at the strings, but stares into the middle distance as if reading music written on the air itself.