Barcus' instinct is to believe there is always a third option, or a fifth, or a seventh, if you have enough courage and time to search for it. But it doesn't look like Solas was in charge in the moment he just viewed, and he's not reacting like it, either. The gnome can't tell what aspects of this memory have him so shaken up, but it seems like the other person in it is the source of at least half of the disturbance.

After a moment, he settles on his knees on the surface beside Solas, which puts him at a lower height, but maybe that's reassuring. He puts a hand on his arm and leaves it there, a small, comforting presence.

There is no doubt what was being contemplated there was monstrous, probably on a level beyond Barcus' comprehension, and there is also no doubt the horror was carried out. And yet, he finds himself more concerned with his friend, still, because Solas is alive and in front of him, and the slaughter is just a reflection in the water. Speaking of wisdom and compassion being two different things...

"What started the war, then?"