"They accepted me.
After I nearly destroyed their town.
After I tried to make myself into their supreme ruler.
After I ran away twice without so much as a backward glance.
Why? Why are they doing this? Why are they so nice?
Granted, I helped save the world from a corrupt Harmony, but that came later. They accepted me even when they had no way of knowing I'd be important to them, or to anypony in the world.
The Great and Powerful Trixie. How utterly self-absorbed and vain does that sound? Yet believe me when I say it's a necessity in my business. You've got to advertise yourself, make yourself out as the best thing in the world, or nopony will ever pay any attention to what you do, no matter how good you're at it. I've seen performers that brought tears to my eyes with how good they were laid low by an inability to sell their act, either to audiences or to promoters. It's a jungle out there. Only the strong survive.
You might wonder why I sound so cynical. The world rewards the good ponies, doesn't it?
Well, it might. But I've seen the opposite happen far too often to still believe that. The world doesn't really care either way. Sometimes, cynical frauds reach the highest heights of recognition and admiration. Sometimes, genuinely nice ponies get left behind. Life's like that, it's uncaring and painful, and anypony who's trying to tell you different is probably selling something.
That's what I used to believe, anyway. I'll never be able to repay Twilight Sparkle and the others for what they did for me.
Tartarus, she forgave me. I nearly destroyed her town, twice, and she just forgave me. I might sound a tad redundant here, but even now, I still have trouble wrapping my head around that. Spike managed to push through the walls I had built, walls I wasn't even aware of, and liberate the potential I had buried beneath my anger, hatred and regret.
Why did I ever bother with that stupid amulet, anyway? Why did I save up every last bit I made on that rock farm in the hopes they would buy me something useful for my revenge? Why didn't I listen to the shopkeeper's warning?
It was the dumbest thing I've done in my life, and believe me when I say there's no lack of candidates for that particular list.
Come to think of it, no, it probably wasn't the dumbest thing I've ever done. It comes close, but still, getting myself involved with that pegasus stallion still ranks as dumber.
I wonder where he's got to. Or where she is now, for that matter.
Do I need to spell it out for you? I was a stupid young mare - still a filly really - and I was curious. My mother was livid, but my father was worse. He was so calm about it all. He turned me out onto the streets with just enough bits to not starve to death within the week.
Oh no, I certainly won't tell you. No matter how much I hate them for what they did, they're still my family. I couldn't do this to them. Also, I don't want them trying to ride the coattails of my newfound success and popularity, and doesn't that sound bitter and vindictive?
Thoughts like that make me realize I still have such a long way to go. I don't think Twilight could ever think about her family like that, even if they did to her what my folks did to me. I'm not even close to being as good a pony as she is.
I still marvel that an Element would pick somepony like me. Again, I have to wonder why. Was I just the closest thing Respect could find?
Or perhaps that's the whole point. The Elements don't make you special, and you don't have to be all that special to be found by one. I just had all the respect I could ever feel locked away somewhere inside, and it must have felt that. But I'm certainly not a better pony just because there's a shiny colourful metal necklace with a blue gemstone with my name on it somewhere in the palace at Canterlot. Twilight is a good pony, but that doesn't have anything to do with her being the Element of Magic. Spike has his faults, Element of Resolve or not.
I'm sorry. I shouldn't bother you with all of this. Besides, there's something I need to do. Thank you for your patience."
***
The shattered remnants of Zecora's old doorstop didn't answer. They never had, of course, not once in all these years that Trixie had used them as a silent counterpart in these one-sided conversations. But there was a difference this time, the first time she had held one of these sessions since she'd unexpectedly become a hero of Equestria. She felt relieved, and resolute.
She stared at the night sky. It was barely past new moon, and the thin yet waxing crescent struck a chord inside her.
I let you go. Perhaps I was right, perhaps I wasn't, but it's time I finally faced the music for what I did.
She picked up the letter lying beside the doorstop and slowly read the sender's address for what felt like the hundredth time.
Manehattan Adoption Office, 325 Long Street, Manehattan
"I want to know who you are."
Trixie levitated the paper knife over and cut the envelope open.