Although it had been absorbed into the Golden Oaks Estate when Twilight Sparkle became a princess, the Golden Oaks Library nevertheless continued to serve as the public library for Ponyville. With the additional royal support, its collection had even expanded somewhat to include more obscure texts that suited the somewhat obscure interests of the now resident princess. Truthfully though, the most significant change was that it was no longer subject to Twilight’s reorganization experiments; she simply didn’t have time anymore.
Spike the Dragon similarly did not have time to devote to the library the way he once did, most of his day now taken up by his new duties as Twilight’s major-domo. As such, the maintenance and organization of the library was made possible only by the contributions of a few part-time and volunteer assistants.
Most recently, these duties had come to Driftwood of Portside (even if his residence there was, for the time being, only technical), a changeling newly residing in Ponyville. Although he did not truly need employment, as his paramour was more than capable of providing his room and board, he needed some activity to maintain his sanity, and the library was in need of a more permanent caretaker. Although lacking an advanced education and generally regarding libraries as places that were seen rather than visited, he nevertheless took his duties seriously, even if his most common duty was shelving books.
It was in the middle of this duty that Driftwood had stopped. He had forgone a disguise so that he could leverage his horn for levitation magic to aid in reshelving a few books, and it was without a disguise that Twilight Sparkle had asked him the question that made him stop and turn his attention to her, a book floating next to his head in an acid green magic field. “What brought this on?” he asked.
“Well, I was talking to Rainbow” — Driftwood half-heartedly threw up a tarsus and rolled his eyes, the book floating beside him drifting low and settling on the floor as the field dissipated— “And after she finished preening about being too smart to be tricked by you, she mentioned something about being a role model for little changelings because she was virtuous, and I’ve been curious about that.”
Driftwood nodded. “Seems a sensible thing to be curious about,” he said. “I take it that you’d like to know more about our virtues?”
Twilight nodded vigorously, and then stiffened. “That is, if it’s alright to ask,” she said.
“Oh, it’s fine to ask,” Driftwood replied. He stepped away from the stacks and moved towards the small reading nook near the window, where several soft cushions were kept for instances such as this, or indeed, any instance where someone was tired of standing. “I just never thought to bring it up. I suppose I figured that since you have your Elements of Harmony already, you wouldn’t be interested in changeling virtues.” He stopped mid-step. “In hindsight, that doesn’t seem like a very good reason.”
“It’s the reason you have,” Twilight said as she happily trotted over to join him. Already, her horn was alight, a dip pen and several sheets of paper following through the air after her. They reached the nook and settled onto a cushion each. “So. Changeling virtues,” Twilight said with a smile.
“Changeling virtues,” Driftwood repeated with a smile as Twilight’s pen began to move. “There are five virtues that a changeling should strive to embody, for those virtues illuminate the road to Shamayim. Charity, piety, forthrightness, perseverance, and stillness.”
Twilight paused her writing and looked to Driftwood with a quirked brow. “Stillness?” she asked.
Driftwood offered a small smile. “Why don’t we take them one at a time?” he suggested. “And before you say so, the first three are, in fact, not like the three elements you have in mind. Not exactly.”
Twilight open your mouth, closed it, and after a few seconds settled on a nod. “All right,” she said. “They illuminate the road to Shamayim?”
“That’s right. The closest idea that a pony has to Shamayim is Elysium, but that’s not really the best comparison,” Driftwood said. “A changeling’s journey from Gehenna to Shamayim would be more akin to a pony’s journey from the depths of Tartarus back to Equestria. That still isn’t quite correct, but that’s the best analogy I have.”
Twilight paused her writing for a moment and looked too Driftwood. “Rarity said something about Gehenna to me a little while back, but I thought she just misunderstood what you told her. Is living here really like being in Tartarus?” Twilight asked, eyes a bit wide.
Driftwood shook his head. “Not exactly. Tartarus is a place for ponies who fill their life with misdeeds. Gehenna is simply where changelings have been banished to. I told you the analogy wasn’t perfect, it’s just the best one that I have.”
Twilight watched him for a moment longer. “That isn’t really better,” she said. After another moment, her eyes lit up. “But Tartarus is where wicked ponies go forever, but Gehenna is just where changelings are until they learn their lesson! That’s what the virtues are for?”
Driftwood hummed and rubbed his chin, and then gave a half shrug. “That’s actually not a bad way of looking at it,” he said. “It gets the message across and makes the issue less confusing when explaining it, at least.”
Twilight nodded happily and returned to writing her notes. “Alright, tell me about charity.”
“Charity is the giving of aid to those in need, especially those without the means to aid themselves,” Driftwood said. “It could be in the form of money or some other physical good, but it could just as easily be a kind smile and a friendly ‘hello’ as you pass someone on the road. Many don’t seem to think so, but if you’ve had a row of bad luck, a kind smile and a friendly ‘hello’ can go a long way towards improving your situation.”
Twilight finished transcribing Driftwood’s words with a small flourish. “I think I see,” she said. “Charity is generosity, but generosity is not always charity.”
"Charity isn’t always generosity, either. A real miser might be extremely stingy with their charity, but it’s charity nevertheless," Driftwood added with a shrug.
Twilight looked upward for a moment, and then shrugged as well. “Something’s more than nothing, I suppose,” she replied. “What about piety?”
“Piety is devotion to other changelings, especially to family, above all other ties.”
Twilight’s writing slowed and then stopped, and she said looking at the paper in front of her. It was impossible for Driftwood to not notice, and he frowned. "Speak your mind, Twilight," he said.
Twilight was silent for a few seconds more. “What if you were in a position to help another changeling, but helping them meant betraying someone else’s trust? What would you do then?” she asked.
Driftwood looked down at the reading desk for a few moments, and then back up to Twilight. “Truthfully? I’m not sure. I haven’t been in that position before,” he said. “I suppose it might depend on whose trust I would be betraying?”
Twilight swallowed. “What if it was Rarity’s?” she asked, slumping slightly in her cushion.
Driftwood opened his mouth, then closed it. He looked down to the floor, then to one side and watched the space in front of him for several seconds. Finally, he looked back to Twilight. “I suppose that I’d have to decide which was more important to me, piety or Rarity, and then live with the consequences,” he answered.
Twilight was quiet for several seconds, and then took a deep breath and straightened up. “Alright,” she said, pausing for another moment before continuing. “Tell me about forthrightness.”
Driftwood watched Twilight for a few moments. “Forthrightness is what changelings have for honesty,” he said. “To be forthright is to say what you mean to say, without mincing words, and to do what you say you’ll do, because you said you will do it.”
“What if you can’t say what you mean to say?” Twilight asked. She hadn’t written any of what Driftwood had just said. “If that’s the only way to keep a disguise intact, what then? Or what if you have to break a promise?”
Driftwood shrugged. “I suppose I’d have to decide what was more important, the virtue or the disguise, and then live with the consequences,” he replied.
Twilight was silent, absently looking down towards the reading desk. Driftwood watched her, and then continued. “Then, comes perseverance. Pressing onward even in the face of opposition or disappointment, and especially in the face of our shortcomings and failures, and not letting them hold us back.”
“What good would that do?” Twilight asked quietly.
Driftwood stood up from where he was sitting, walked around the desk to Twilight’s side, and laid an arm across her withers. She turned and buried her face into his shoulder and held onto him tightly. “It’s not fair,” she whispered.
“Maybe not,” Driftwood replied. He gave Twilight a tight squeeze with the arm he had around her. “But it’s what we have. And because it’s what we have, it’s also why stillness might be the most important virtue of all.”
Twilight took a shuddering breath, and then separated from Driftwood, briefly raising a hoof to wipe at her eyes. She took a second breath and, dazedly gazing at the paper that was not near as full as she would have like, asked, “What is stillness?”
Driftwood smiled gently. “Stillness is what makes all the other virtues possible,” he said. “Charity in the face of hardship, piety in the face of uncertainty, forthrightness in the face of struggle, and perseverance in the face of despair. Stillness is the calm insight that shows the path towards them all.” He lifted a tarsus and placed it on the side of Twilight’s head, drawing her attention back to him with a small start. “Stillness of mind, to not be distracted by what we cannot have.” He moved his tarsus down, and placed it against her chest. “Stillness of heart, to not be obsessed by what we do not have. Distraction and obsession obscure the path. Stillness makes the path clear.”
Twilight watched his tarsus for a moment, and watched it for another moment once it returned to the floor. “That sounds really hard,” she said quietly.
Driftwood gave a half shrug. “It is,” he began. “But….” He paused for a few moments, looking at nothing in particular. “Envision a still pond.” They each looked at the other for a moment before Driftwood spoke again. “Well, go on, envision it.”
Twilight straightened up suddenly, eyes briefly wide, before they settled to their normal state and were then closed. “Okay,” she said. “Still pond.”
“Now, throw a rock into it. What happens?”
Twilight was silent for several seconds, tilting her head slightly to one side. “A splash?” she ventured. “Ripples?”
"Right," Driftwood replied. "But if you wait long enough without throwing another rock in?"
“Still pond again,” Twilight said.
“Exactly,” said Driftwood. “Eventually, your mind or your heart or both will be disturbed. What matters isn’t trying to avoid disturbances, or trying to become immune to them, but being able to experience those disturbances and return to stillness after.”
Twilight opened her eyes, and looked at the space in front of her. Driftwood sat by her and said nothing. After several long seconds, Twilight drew in a deep breath, and then looked at Driftwood. “If I wanted to practice... if I wanted to live these virtues, can I? Is there anything special I'd have to do?”
Driftwood smiled and said, “If you want to live these virtues, all you need to do is live them, to the very best of your ability. Thinking it might help you understand changelings better?”
“It probably will,” Twilight replied. “But I also think that it’ll help me be a better pony.”
Driftwood nodded. “You’ve already got a start, if nothing else. Charity, piety, and forthrightness aren’t that different from generosity, loyalty, and honesty, even if they aren’t exactly the same. And here you stand, so you already know a thing or two about perseverance.”
“More than the others, I think I need stillness,” Twilight replied. She fell silent again, and Driftwood fell silent right along with her. “I’m better now than I was, and I know that Lyra’s said more than once that it was a normal reaction, but I can’t help thinking about that night. I can’t help but feel that if I hadn’t freaked out, if I had that stillness, then maybe I would have handled everything better.”
Driftwood chuckled. “Well, a different reaction to that night is something you do not have, and a redo is something you cannot have,” he said.
Twilight gave him a wry smile. “Is that my first lesson?” she asked.
“Hardly,” Driftwood replied. “That’s one space where virtuousness and friendship are alike. The lessons are all around us” — He swept a tarsus across the entire library — “Everywhere, everyday. You’ve been getting them since you were born. Once you know to look for them, you'll start to see them.”
Twilight looked down at her notes again. “Looks like I have a few things to think about,” she said.
“Then I’ll leave you to think them,” Driftwood said. “In the meantime, I’ll finish up my shelving and get some more study done.”
“You’ve been studying?” Twilight asked, getting up from her cushion.
“Well, not nearly as much as you did, so I’m told, but if I’m to help administer this library, I feel I ought to be able to offer suggestions, if nothing else,” Driftwood replied as he moved back to the stacks.
“Driftwood,” Twilight said, prompting him to stop and look over his shoulder at her. “I’ve never said this, because I didn’t think I’d mean it, but I’m really glad I met you, and I feel like I mean that.”
“I’m a changeling, Twilight. Even if you don’t say it, I always know,” Driftwood replied.
“I know, but I still like to say it,” Twilight said with an earnest smile.
“I know, but I still like to hear it, too,” Driftwood replied with a smile just as earnest.
Author's Note
First story that was written primarily using speech-to-text while driving. It actually feels like it turned out pretty well, and if nothing else, it allowed me to get writing done at all while I was doing other things. Maybe I was too quick to dismiss this technology.
One issue I see with comparing systems of virtue is that different systems are often times incompatible with each other, which is certainly the case here. This is the kind of conflict that interests me most of all, because I find that kind of personal struggle to do what is right to be the most interesting struggle of all.
