It is one of the many mysteries of the universe of where evil originates from, for evil is so varied and differentiated that it is impossible to come up with a singular solution. Ancient legends would tell you that evil is what the universe was pulled from by a Celestial Mother, as she made all that is good in the world. This answer is insufficient - evil is not simply the absence of good, that is Apathy. Evil is far more difficult to define.

Evil can be many things. It can be a villainous action, a villainous intent, a murderous force of nature, or more loosely a different point of view. But this is not so much the omnipresence of evil as it is an incredibly poorly defined term. Some philosophers posit that evil comes from sin - a vanity for legacy, a lust for power, a greed for gold, a lack of care. They are fools who do not know math.

As with all things of the universe, it is at the very base quantifiable. Everything is composed of the various elements, imbued with certain properties. To make a thing, it requires only a precisely general composition. But the minor distinctions are the result of minute variances in their composition. As souls are a thing - just as all things - then it must be that the minor differences in the soul are the result of slight aerious, aqueous, terrenic, and vissic aspects.

This presents one of the foremost challenges of modern alchemy - the quantification and distillation of beauty, life, intellect, and evil.

Taldoray hunched over his workbench, shirking his responsibilities as usual. He hated the council. It was a waste of his talents, and the only reason he even occasionally went was when Fomvin informed him that there was an important council decree that needed to be addressed, and the council no longer allowed votes in absentia. Fomvin told Taldoray that submitting a decree that reinstated absentia council voting was in poor taste. Taldoray submitted it anyways. It was blocked.

And yet Taldoray barely bothered to attend.

His current research? Elixir of Intelligence. It was one of the Eight Great Elixirs - aspects of godhood, liquefied and bottled. Or... perhaps not. This one seemed to become more of a powder actually. Oops.

Perhaps it was the mulberry pulp? Or the ground limestone? He was sure the calculations had been done correctly, though the equations were unproven... and he was aging, of course.

Old age. Perhaps it would be better to find the Elixir of Life? But with the Elixir of Intelligence, as that would grant him the ability to make the Elixir of Life. Hopefully. After all, this was a trap that many alchemists before him would fall into. And perhaps many alchemists would again.

His thoughts drifted once more to evil. It was a strange thing, the concept of bottling it for a sip. Some Alchemists have claimed that it would be something of a universal cure - a poison used as a remedy. But this was a justification. A rationale. No, Taldoray suspected that it was some bizarre and unfortunate kind of addiction ingrained his profession. A desire to find evil, contain it, and bend the power to serve them.

Foolish thoughts. There was little more time.

There was a knock at the door. "WHAT?!" shouted Taldoray.

The voice behind the door was meek and broken, and said "The council requests your presence, Alchemist-Shaman. T-there is a vote."

"Do I have to come."

"Y-yes, Shaman Taldoray. Sh-shaman Fomvin personally asked for it."

Taldoray gave a grunt, and creaked upwards, and then said "Find me my cane." He staggered up and they began off to the Conciliary Palace. Taldoray noticed more activity today, but he could not put his finger on it. Something was off. The skin of his arse twitched.

They moved on before they finally came before the council fires. All the Shamans were in attendance, some even wore their masks. That was a first. The masks were more of a formality. A notification of title. Taldoray hated them - they were hard to breathe through - but fashion was fashion. Taldoray couldn't see Fomvin's face, and it took more than a few moments to pick out the Warrior-Shaman's mask out of all of them. This was going to be good.

One Shaman tried to leave, apparently discouraged from attendance by the pre-council petty mingling. But a pair of spears barred his exit. That was odd. Spearmen weren't supposed to be in the Conciliary Palace, they simply guarded the outside.

Oh.

Oh.

And so Fomvin began with, "Fellow Shamans, Asoriyans. By now, you have all noticed that our city is in bad need for a strong hand to rule, and that our council is woefully unfit to do such. In the days of yore, the Sun Queen was able to push through quick orders whenever she pleased, as the council of her shamans was an advisatory. And her right hand."

"What is this, Fomvin. Get on with it," said Taldoray.

"Please, Taldoray, my dear friend and master," said Fomvin, "nowadays we have no sun queen, and our council can barely accomplish anything. You read modern alchemy from thousand-year-old tablets, and let's be honest my friend. You have no interest in council meetings."

"That may be true, but-"

"My master, do me the honor of letting me finish", said Fomvin, interrupting Taldoray, "it's certainly not lost on you that we have not accomplished much in these past few years. Truly, Asor is but a shadow of her former glory. Foreign empires nip at our heels, and it is time for us to reassert our dominance over them."

"Why?" asked Taldoray.

"Why? Because we must. It is the nature of Asor to be ruling over all others. And there must be a strong ruler to make it happen."

Here it comes, thought Taldoray.

"My lieutenants, come in please. I want you to witness this."

The spearmen came in through the doors of node. No, there were also archers. And swordsmen. And Fomvin had a sword at his hip.

And Fomvin unsheathed it.

"I must ask you shamans to proclaim me King of Asor, and reposition the council back to the advisatory it was always meant to be."

And at that moment, as the council was neutered and the king ascended, Taldoray wished he had the power to bottle evil.