Our fears die, usually before we do. That may be a good thing or a bad thing. It depends on how and when they die.
Some fears die because we kill them. I used to be afraid to drive on the highway, but I ran that fear down on I-95 a long time ago. I hate to think of how limited my life could have been if I had continued to avoid the highway. It’s a good thing that I killed that fear.
Other fears probably die naturally, withering away into meaninglessness as life changes. If I ever became paralyzed, I don’t imagine that I’d be afraid to dance in public anymore. The fear of dancing would die at the same time as the possibility of dancing. It wouldn’t be a cause for celebration, though, and the fear would most likely be replaced with regret over not having danced more while I had the chance. Regret is the heir of Fear.
It makes sense, then, to kill our fears rather than let them die of natural causes. If we kill them, we become more powerful. If we don’t, their power goes to Regret.