I was sitting at one of the desks lined neatly along the study room of the Tower
of Dark Fates, pouring over numerous textbooks and manuals perched precariously
throughout its surface, when I was called for the first lesson out of many that
have initiated me into the cabalistic teachings of Nihilism. The gaslamps
flickered and the lone candle burning on my desk was snuffed out as if
smothered as I felt a chill creep up my spine despite the woollen shawl wrapped
around my shoulders to keep me warm as I worked. I was but a young Penitent of
the Fold at the time, barely allowed to walk the dark halls of the Tower and
easily impressed at the wonders steeped in the eerily arcane powers of Nil found
within. What I beheld, however, when I carefully turned around and cast a
searching gaze across the room, was beyond my imagination. I have heard much of
the Nihilists and of the Tainted Plane of Nil before, in fact, I have seen the
deathly composed and concise Priests of Nil travel streets of the Engine with
their demon thralls often. I have even once saw an Iconoclast with an archdemon
that oozed promises of terror and torment following in his steps obediently. I
have attended fervently the rituals and sermons that the Nihilists invited
Magnagorans to witness, as Mother had commanded me, devoted and religious woman
that she was. I have also glimpsed beings that were neither dead or alive, but
nor mortal beings, guarding private areas of the city - ghouls, zombies, ghasts.

But this? Before me was a being swathed in shadows, floating hauntingly in the
air, his eyes glowing with smouldering hatred and contempt for all that which
lived. A waft of frigid air caressed my face tenderly as it floated closer,
gazing at me with intensity that had me rooted in my chair. I have heard of this
being I remembered then. A spectral wraith, a being of sheer malevolence and
with only one goal in undeath - gory revenge. And at the same time I also knew
suddenly whom he served, I have heard the gossip at the Wailing Woman Inn last
week, so I used the remaining scraps of my will to calm down lest he finds my
fear an invitation and a promise of quenching that which was devouring him
whole. He meant me no harm. Or so I kept saying to myself over and over in my
head like a soothing mantra.

He was finally a few feet away from me, swaying back and forth as if fighting
an inner impulse, his tattered grey robes and cloak floating in unseen wind. "Go
forth to the Silent Cathedral," the being finally uttered in a hoarse whispery
voice, "seek her out". And then with a flourish of his cloak, he collapsed in on
himself with a fizzle, leaving wisps of black mist dissipating in his wake
chased by a howling wind. I took but a blink of an eye's worth of time getting
myself calmed and I was already on my feet grabbing at my satchel and dashing
for the door, the thoughts in my head swirling but I knew they would have to
wait.

I arrived at the ominous gates of the Silent Cathedral some time after, leaning
against the cold, wrought iron and seeking temporary comfort in the courtyard's
shade. I had rushed through the city as if a Soulless Himself was chasing me,
unsure on how exactly to behave in the current circumstance. The unnatural pall
hanging in the air softly enveloped me as I stood there, as if reminding me not
tarry, so I steps into the silence. Outside, the noise of the city was distant
and muffled but present. Within, palpable silence engulfed me as I quietly tread
across the onyx mosaic of what I now knew to be the Malkuth Sphere, the
foundation of High Magic. I made a mental note to investigate this further at a
later date as something was telling me it was not coincidence. I made another to
definitely study the Sephira when I saw two stone statues kneeled over
reverently with their palms on the depiction of the Tainted Earth woven amidst
said sphere.

Hard as I tried, I could not find a soul anywhere - live or dead. I peeked into
the fonts
of each Demon Lord and Lady, I checked the side rooms, I crossed the halls
several times.
At last, a puddle of ectoplasm caught my eye and following its trail I found a
secret passage beneath the cathedral, deep within the tainted earth. Elaborate
stone sarcophagi lined the dimly-lit walls of the musty corridor, a coating of
dust embracing them. Oddly enough, the dust has been wiped away here and there
revealing pictograms and runic carvings. Having naught better to do, the feeling
of failure on my quest welling up inside me, I took my time examining them. They
each told a tale of the entombed Nihilist's immortal life and what they have
achieved and still seek to achieve during it. Trailing my finger along one of
the sarcophagi I suddenly realised that the beings within were in fact only
slumbering and not dead. I froze right there and then and felt a presence, a
consciousness other than my own, brush against my mind for a second and then it
was gone. I jumped back and turned for the exit only to pause again as there
stood my summoner, quiet and composed.

I wanted to explain, apologise for my intrusion, but her countenance provided
no invitation to do such so I just bowed low and stood there with my eyes cast
to the ground, my hands clutched at my satchel. Without a word, she strode
towards me and then past me without a glance and I followed her into a small
chamber hidden somewhere along the corridor. I could not tell the intended use
of the room as it was equipped in all manner of contradictory peculiarities
including a ritualistic pentagram, an alembic and other laboratory equipment, a
bookshelf, a bed, a desk and various cryptic artifacts I could not guess the use
of. Confused I stayed at the door as the lady made herself comfortable in one of
the luxuriously-padded armchairs.

"Are the Demon Lords the source of evil?"

The question baffled me at first so I stood there like a furrikin given an
elementary equation to solve. Assurances that They are in no way, shape, or form
the source of evil were trying to make their way out of my mouth but something
was telling me I would have made a fool out of myself. Instead, quite
unknowingly, I helped myself to a chair that stood near the door and perched
upon it softly as I battled my thoughts. Finally I managed to come up with what
strikes me now as a ridiculous and insolent reply and in my daily prayers I
still thank that she did not make me perish for it.

"Well, what is evil really..."

Her eyebrows arched and the corners of her lips twitched, I cannot say now if
in amusement
or anger, but I was still alive and sitting there feeling the fool.

"Would there be no evil without the Demon Lords?"

This time I decided to make use of my brain some more before replying and dug
into the knowledge that I had. How are the Demon Lords a source of evil really?
I heard whispers of people in the Glomdoring Commune slaughtering mere babes and
read tales of abuse from New Celest. I heard of Paladins urinating into the Pool
of Stars and of Shadowdancers enslaving fae to do their bidding. And of a savage
Serenguard slaughtering his whole family in jealous rage that his wife had a
painting of Laeroc, the Fae Queen's Consort hidden away somewhere. And I told
her such slowly and thoughtfully and she nodded once in agreement.

"Why do you think others believe such though and spread rumours?"

Because they want their religions, their beliefs to be dominant? Maybe... I was
not certain but considering such I again realised that whether the Demon Lords
existed or not, it would still be happening. I mused it aloud and she listened
with some modicum of curiosity, nodding when I made a good point. Finally, a new
thought dawned on me when I pondered the powers of Nil.

"They are afraid?"

She finally smiled, a small thin smile that did not touch her eyes. Fiddling
with the damning symbol of domination in her hands she explained that it is fear
that drives mortals to most absurd acts and that the unknown is at once
tempting and forbidden. I listened intently, drinking up every single word of
the tale of religions that smother free will and impose restrictions that
restrain mortals from transcending the pedestrian and dull, fearing that should
they do such - they would grasp for power themselves. And so I learnt that
religion can be a powerful tool for a government to use and can have naught to
do with piety and morals, whilst everything to do with control and fear.

"Why do you fear the gift of Undeath?"

Again, I was stunned. I curled up on myself some and wrung my hands together in
my lap as I cast my eyes down shamefully. Indeed... I had feared embracing the
Gift and was yet to request the privilege. Why? Because I was afraid... because
I did not know precisely what it would do, what would happen. I had feared its
power and how it would change me and absolutely everyone outside of Magnagora
shunned it, including the once tainted Glomdoring. I was born in Magnagora but I
travelled much with my Father till his untimely demise and my joining of the
Nihilists as demanded by Mother.

"You fear."

I nodded and sat there quietly thinking over all she has told be and that which
I studied long into the nights at the Tower library. Fear guides mortals away
from progress, she said. Those who fear, never truly live, she added with an
ironic smile at the play of the words only evident to me now.

What happened later I remember like through a haze... actually no, I remember
it with every single detail but it is not for you to read about but to witness
yourself. Suffice to say the bed was indeed necessary later and as I was closing
my eyes to recover my energy and let my body adjust to the violent change, I
felt neither hunger nor cold of the spectral wraith floating nearby. His ominous
watchful presence, guarding me as I slumbered, enveloped me in neither comfort
nor discomfort, just the feeling of safety and certainty.

No fear.

Fear is for the weak.