Princess Celestia felt herself being slammed into the ground forcibly. A faint aura of light purple surrounded her, and she felt herself being jerkily yanked up, and slammed into the ground again. The lanterns and candles that normally lit the Restricted Access Wing in the Canterlot Archives had all been extinguished, leaving only the light that was emanating from her captor’s horn to give her any kind of ability to discern what she was seeing.
“Tw... Twilight...” Celestia nearly had to spit out, looking at her former protege with true mortal fear showing in her eyes and every fibre of her quaking frame.
“OH, YOU’RE CALLING ME THAT NOW, ARE YOU? I’M NOT ‘THE SUBJECT’ ANYMORE, AM I, DEAREST TEACHER!?” Twilight Sparkle bellowed, slamming Celestia down again in her blind rage. Twilight’s eyes had lost all semblance of humanity, replaced only by empty white orbs glowing with solid magic, similarly to when Twilight had harnessed the Elements of Harmony to defeat Nightmare Moon and Discord. The pony was suspended in midair, floating not by choice, but from the sheer magical energy she was exerting, which pushed her away from the ground.
Celestia groaned, in the throes of pain the likes of which she had yet to experience, even in her 4,000 year lifespan. Her body ached with the pressure of being held magically, paralyzed by her prized student.
“Why... Why, Twilight? Who told you? Who could have possibly known?”
“I could have. Your security is severely lacking in the archives, you know.” Twilight nearly whispered, not able to look her mentor in the eye.
“Twili-”
“DON’T SPEAK TO ME.”
Celestia recoiled in fear, more terrified of her student than she thought she’d ever be in her entire life, which was looking shorter and shorter in length the longer she was forced to carry on this insane conversation with Twilight.
“ALL MY LIFE, IT HAS BEEN YOU WHO HAS SPOKEN. I HAVE SENT YOU MEANINGLESS LETTERS ON A SUBJECT YOU ALREADY KNEW. THEY MEANT NOTHING. AND NOW IT IS MY TURN TO SPEAK. IT IS MY TURN TO BE HEARD. AND YOU SHALL LISTEN.”
“Twilight... That’s not true... Those letters did mean something...”
Twilight smacked the princess hard with the back of her hoof. The white alicorn’s muzzle swung hard to the right, the sound of hoof meeting cheek echoing through the abandoned Archives.
“PERHAPS MY RECOLLECTION IS FOGGY, BUT I DO NOT RECALL GRANTING YOU PERMISSION TO SPEAK. SO KINDLY SHUT. UP. PRINCESS!!”
The lavender pony was screaming now, no regard left for the painful irony of raising her voice in a library.
Princess Celestia chose to remain silent, her hoof raised to nurse her already-reddening cheek. She glared through slitted eyes at her former student. That was all she could think to refer to her as now. The pony that was floating before her was not anything like the one she had once taught.
Twilight did not speak. She simply floated there, seemingly lost in thought.