"My hands do not belong to me," says Xûr, almost to himself.

"They are attached to this body, and yet their actions are those of the Nine, or perhaps the impossible horse…"

His hooded visage turns toward you. You can see the vague suggestion of his eyes.

"My hands have made you a key, Guardian. They engraved words upon it, but they did not permit me to see what they were. The message was not for me."

For a moment, Xûr looks at the bizarre splendor around him. "Though I stand amongst treasures, I am but a conduit. They belong to you."

"Tell me, Guardian," he says softly, "is it not wonderful to be loved so deeply?"

Then there is a shift in his countenance, reality shimmers around him, and Xûr falls silent once more.