"Merciful Sarenrae! Dawnflower! Hear the prayer from your apostate! I am powerless to fix what I've done, but

"Merciful Sarenrae! Dawnflower! Hear the prayer from your apostate! I am powerless to fix what I've done, but I can prevent others from following the same road! Grant me courage and light my way in the eternal darkness that awaits!" For a moment, the dim room is brightly illuminated — a flower, made of blinding light, blooms in Tristian's palm. The cleric utters a last sigh — and presses his palm engulfed in sacred fire, to his eyes. With his other hand, he releases the Oculus of Abaddon, and it falls to shatter on the ground.