Imagine nothing. I don't mean simply just pure blackness. Pure blackness is still something, still has a form. The nothingness I'm referring to is absolutely formless, absolutely devoid of anything. A complete lack of existence. In truth, it is essentially impossible to actually imagine nothing, as the very act of imagining is the act of creating something, albeit only in ones mind. A self-contradictory concept, picturing nothing.
The Quiet is the Fear of absolutely nothing, of a pure lack of existence. The Quiet itself is, in fact, quite paradoxically a huge mass of nothing. It simply isn't. It exists by not existing. One would be lead to believe that there really is no Quiet, if it weren't for the the fact that one can observe it's effects on existence. Wherever things are, the Quiet is not. Wherever the Quiet is, things aren't.
Due to it's nature, the quiet does not have servants. There is, however, a cult known as "The Hushed Monks" who seem to worship The Quiet. They have taken a vow of silence, and while they still can communicate by reading lips, this has made it almost impossible to learn their true reasons and motives for being followers of The Quiet.
It has been theorized by some that The Quiet was brought into...existence, for lack of a better term, due to some sort of fracture in reality, such as The Shattering .