A great hush fell over the room and out into the streets of Annúminas. All eyes fell upon the sceptre Elendil took into his hands. Its silver surface gleamed bright in the midday sun, as if it somehow caught a small portion of Telperion’s beams within its reflection. If one looked closely they would happen to catch the glint of the Ring of Barahir upon his finger. A flash of green hinted at the hopes of new life for them all. But even more impressive was the white star that shone upon his brow. Before them stood Elendil the Tall, a man who bore the past even in raiment, a man that now would be their King, a protector of their hope for the future.