She knew the so-called ‘Archmage’ Jelindel dek Mediesar, and was not impressed that she had sought an audience. Onala hadn’t forgotten her first meeting with Jelindel when she was a mere neophyte. Jelindel had ensnared her with a binding word and humiliated her in front of her fellow seniors. Onala did not forget that sort of thing, and she looked forward to putting Jelindel in her place.The High Priestess donned her most impressive vestments in a leisurely manner: a burgundy-trimmed robe with flared cuffs, a black velvet mitre with stiffened wings bordered with exquisite silver and gold embroidery. She placed her ceremonial crosier with its staff-long tassels by the table.Onala kept Jelindel waiting two hours. Finally she sat behind her desk in a high-backed chair that looked more like a throne. Satisfied, she had Jelindel ushered in by a fawning neophyte. Her brown tabard with the Temple’s rising sun emblazoned in golden yellow across the front were the only colours allowed such lowly clerics.‘Leave us,’ the High Priestess said imperiously to the neophyte, who seemed to almost worship the famous archmage.
