He fidgets before he can stop himself, then slowly nods.

"In the end, only Nelyo and I were alive to get the Silmarils. They burned us. Nelyo...fell. Into lava." His voice is oddly stilted and lifeless, shoulders hunched and right hand crawls into a pocket. "I threw mine into the sea. Hopefully Ulmo took it, but it's out of my hands now."

Alone, Echos hollowly between their minds.