Maglor shrugs at him - he has never wondered why, it is simply the way it always has been.

"Maybe - but I will never know."

He pales a little when his brother discovers the scars and slowly turns his hands so they can be seen.

"I...think you can guess."

Crisscrossing lines run in contractures across his palms and fingers, and right in the centre of his right they run almost straight...as if the facet of a great gem once pressed there.