Cursed totems did not belong in the archive of Sarenrae’s temple, and yet somehow one had ended up there. The fiend bound in the totem waited for sometime to be found, until one day a young cleric named Amina searched through an unremarkable box. When her fingers brushed against it she froze, the brief touch enough to let it gain a hold on her soul as her body fell to the ground seizing.
The priest’s heart broke then - the sort of breaking that it would do again and again without shattering.
"I believe you little one, that just like us the spirit wants to live. If I could I would offer it a Good life."
With a deep breath he continued: "But I cannot. And if we don’t act to stop it than someday many others will be hurt."
The priest smiled a grim smile - proud of the Good he saw in his pupil. He knew what lesson he would need to teach her, though it wasn't an easy one to learn.
"Even if we can’t say who it will hurt, we know it will hurt others. We’ve seen it before little one, in the lessons of ages gone by. Normally disciplines are only taught about this when they are older than you are now, because we do not wish to poison them against Evil and so first we teach mercy."
"But I don’t think it’s a favor to you, or to the world, to hold off on this lesson now." he said, his voice apologetic.
The history that the priest showed her was one of mercies gone wrong, of how lessons that they hoped Evil would learn were ignored, of the mortals and Gods alike turned to ends that hurt and broke more to Evil in turn. Brutal conquerors who grew their armies with the aid of healers, starvation caused by thieves who had failed to reform again and again, and how it took a grand tragedy to save everyone from the mercy and acceptance of Sarenrites when they had allowed an evil to fester above a vault holding the end of the world.
"Perhaps, but I will make no promise to abstain for my life's sake, for I refuse to stay my hand from the Evil that I am," said the fiend.
It thought then that it would perish, and within the secrecy of Amina's heart it was glad that its death would wound her so terribly to allow. A final act of malice, for that was in its nature.