"What is empathy?" I asked. We were in my living room, myself seated on a couch, Onoskelis seated comfortably on a cushion before me. Yesterday, I had given her free access to my library, and by the time that supper was served, she had replaced her feet with hooves and covered her calves and forearms with soft lavender fur. This morning, she had decided that hooves were too inconvenient, but now almost her entire lower half sported carpet-like fur. By evening, I expected, all the fur would be gone to be replaced by some new fancy crafted by her mercurial humor.
She knew to take the question seriously, and answered "An understanding of anothers' mind and heart complete enough to feel an echo of their presumed feelings. The term often implies that this knowledge stems from compassion, but compassion is not the necessary outcome of such understanding." I smiled at her. "A cogent answer, and a workable definition. You're already much of the way there. The only thing truly standing between you and empathy is your instinct to manipulate. But to cure you of that, we need an at least equally strong drive to counter it."
She had gone from merely dutifully attentive to truly interested, tail twisting and curling as she stared unblinkingly at me. "I am going to teach you conscience, and instill principles in you. In the beginning, your principles and morals will be rules--established by me under threat of punishment. The first principle I am imposing on you is the open and mutually beneficial trade."
She leaned a little forward, coyly covering herself with wings that had not been there a second ago. "Not 'even trades', Master?" her tone was speculative, eyes calculating angles.
My response surprised her. "How can any trade ever be even? For a trade to take place in absence of trickery or coercion, each party must gain more than they give up, or no trade would have any reason to occur."
I let her stew on that one for a long moment. "Master... that is very different from my experiences up until now. Trades use force, the threat of force, or trickery to take while giving as little in return as possible. I keep wondering where the trap is in giving me permission to read anything in your library. You are not weak enough nor foolish enough to put yourself at the losing end of the bargain. This concept would make sense of your actions, but it's very new; very hard to grasp."
I shifted position, getting a bit more comfortable. "Lets take your example. I gave you access to my library, giving up the ability to watch you directly at all times. You give me a chance to work on my other projects while giving up additional opportunities to secure your place protected by me. Additionally, I have traded a leisure activity for a more relaxed and cooperative subject. Can you see how we each put more value on what we gain than what we give up; and that each of us values what we receive from the other more than what we give to them?"
her eyes slitted, her wings spreading and vanishing, to be replaced with several tentacles, which curled in front of her into a complex and intricate knot. "This is about the carrot you're using to keep me motivated through all of this, isn't it. I want love from a man, but I've been unable to make the trade mutually beneficial? And what sours--even if they never realize it--is stress built up from the exploitative and neglectful way I treat them."
She sounded like I had illuminated a long and very vexing puzzle, face lit up. Then a frown slowly overtook it, the tentacles knotting themselves further and tensing. "The way I've existed can't work long term, can it? I can't really get what I want through coercion and trickery. Even though I am utterly selfish, the best way to get what I want is to trade openly. A concept I'd never even have considered. It seems... almost a little foolish to suppose that both parties could ever benefit. And yet you've demonstrated it. That is an option, and one that does not diminish me." She shook her head, golden hair catching the overhead light. "You've sold me on accepting at least one principle. How is it that you succeed in this where countless priests have failed?"