"It is not an easy thing to show, and not just because the memories are hard to bear." Solas looks around the ruins, his eyes drinking it all in, his heart in his throat. There is so much more that these places could've been if the Veil had not been made, but he knows why he made the choice he had. He knows why he did it, the choice he made. Does that mean he doesn't regret it? No, of course not. Regrets are a shadow over him.

His thoughts would go darker if she did not bring him out of it. It's been a mess since he walked into her room, but her touch is as grounding here as it had been in sleep, and Solas reaches back for her, letting his fingers take hers, resting on his shoulder.

"I can tell you of it, but with the Veil as it is... It is difficult to replicate the world that once was." He sounds forlorn, at least. "But I can show you the things I have seen amongst the whispers of the Fade, take you to the places where the Inquisition could only hope to go."