"Truthfully, I do not know. Months, certainly, potentially more than a year. Part of their escape involved Elgar'nan exchanging his place for my own, and so I have been..." Solas hesitates, his mind briefly caught on grey horrors, on the mad rigors of solitary isolation, on Rook's brief visits, "...Rook has the dagger. I do not believe she ever intended to—"

To do any of it, really. To imprison him, to have any connection at all, to free the Evanuris, or indeed to ever again allow him to see the light of day. Realizing he has again fallen silent, Solas breathes deeply, his eyes closed. Focus. You are free now. There is nothing else that can be done, from here.

"...Ghilan'nain and Elgarnan. They are the only two who survive, after so many Blights, and the Grey Warden's work. Ghilan'nain may be dead, I could not confirm it, but Elgar'nan certainly is not. Still, it is bad enough; much of the South is Blight, and I have been held captive and powerless for all the time between their release and my time here."