[Solas, who is not the sort to indulge in comforting untruths, does not put faith in Aymeric’s judgement on how changed Francel has or has not been. Nor can he trust himself to know if he himself has been changed by this world. He remembers with amusement and affection the Inquisitor’s point on this subject. If it had, do you really think I’d have noticed?]

The manner of possession I allude to is not thraldom: it is more... peaceful symbiosis.

Many times I have witnessed its dark inverse. The unheralded destruction as wreaked by abominations... [Dryly:] Take heart, Lord de Haillenarte. That is more bloody, and invariably involves less tea parties.

[He continues apace, as Francel is not exactly distressed, and, well, he's just gotten warmed up.]

In my world, spirits served as a catalyst of creation. Perhaps it is so here, and thus the native Monsters were formed.

[He thinks this extends to himself and the other newcomer Witches as well as Francel and the Monsters, so he adds:] Perhaps curious spirits watched us as we crossed through our mirrors, and wished to make sense of us. With benevolent intent, they sought to fit us into the order of this world. [Or perhaps not! Still, he takes comfort in such contemplation, and he’s known stranger things to happen.]