The shadow and the flame—solemn, powerful, and the final guardian in the sacred cycle.
Draped in black silk with glinting onyx ornaments, Nang Mahothon Thevi rides a proud peacock, her back straight and eyes sharp. She carries a discus in one hand and a trident in the other—tools of judgment and protection. As the sister of Saturday, Mahothon is the quiet storm, the closing note of a sacred song, and the reminder that endings are as holy as beginnings. Where others bring light or thunder, she brings finality—and the strength to carry what others can’t.
Among the sisters, Mahothon walks with a presence that silences rooms. She isn’t cold—she’s focused. She listens more than she speaks, and when she moves, it’s with intention sharpened by years of watching from the edges. When it’s her year to carry their father’s head, she treats it not just as a duty, but as a sacred reckoning. She is the sister who walks last, not because she’s least—but because she carries the weight of everything that came before her.