Silent, not moving, like he was carved from stone, the old King of the Humans sat on his golden and ruby throne. It was unclear how old he was, but his tanned face was carved with dozens of wrinkles. So that this man was old, was obvious. Despite, or maybe because of his high age, the man radiated authority which no-one would dare to question. Upon his head stood the silver crown of the Highking, with blue velvet and four inlayed opals as symbol of the richness of the countries of the four Corners. The countries where he was supreme ruler. Around his shoulders a cobalt blue cloak hung with a woolen collar. It was the wool of the Fazalsheep, a kind of wool only the kings where allowed to wear. A sparkling aquamarine decorated the, already rich decorated, armor, which the old, skinny body of the old king protected.When the old King of the Humans, the High King of countries of the four corners, saw Isis, the Macleain, the Chosen one to defeat the Convenant of Branae, he smiled. Light danced upon the wrinkles in his face and suddenly the old man seemed to be younger."Are you the one who is going to take away my sorrow?" He asked.