//------------------------------//
// 2. Archive #2 - The Abused Foal 
// Story: The Archives of Equusweyr 
// by Coranth 
//------------------------------//

I remember the day that our Prince discovered one among us whom was abusing and neglecting a foal. He was, as always, resting upon his Throne within the Nexus; a serene smile upon his face, his eyes closed, as between his hooves he manipulated a glowing, cerulean ball of... well, it wasn't magic. Our Prince doesn't possess magic as the Unicorns do. Instead, he wields Psionic Energy; literally the energy of the mind, of thought itself. So there he was, keeping watch over his city via the Observers joined unto him through the Weyrmind... until one Observer caught wind of something in a house at the outskirts. A memory? A dream, perhaps? 

We mortal ponies may never know exactly what the Observer actually saw... but our Prince did. His eyes snapped open, blazing with psychic fire. And then he was rising from his Throne, a hoof outstretched to - tap, tap, tap, tap - gently the muzzles of four of his strongest Templars. Without question they moved to accompany him as he silently left the Nexus. As his Archivist, the Chronicler of His Exploits, I followed him as well. Guided by the directions of the Weyrmind, he and his retinue made their way to this seemingly picturesque house at the outskirts of our fair city. Once there, our Prince touched something on a device strapped to his right foreleg...

Then we were all suddenly shifted inside the house, startling the occupants, a pegasus stallion and his unicorn wife. She clutched a hoof to her chest - near-suffering a heart attack - whilst he went pale. Because our Prince knew. While three of his Templars made to ensure the adults didn't escape or try anything 'funny', our Prince and his fourth Templar made their way upstairs to the room of a young colt. There was no evidence, of course, to suggest that said colt had been abused... or rather, no physical evidence. The colt seemed perfectly fine. But the invisible Observer in the colt's room - watching over him all this time - knew. Through the Observer, the Weyrmind knew. And through the Weyrmind, our Prince knew... 

Of the long-healed bruises, made where nopony would see. The broken, and rebroken muzzle, ribs, legs, hooves. The little one's broken mind and soul. That was certainly telling evidence. And our Prince would know, having been an expert on the mind and its abilities and quirks for over 700 years. Of course, the colt's tears and repeated 'thank you, oh thank you!' as he hugged our Prince for all he was worth added to the evidence. In the end, our Prince - wreathing the little colt with his power - set the little one atop the back of his Fourth Templar; then all returned to the ground floor of the house wherein the Prince faced the pegasus, the colt's father. 

Not a word was spoken by our Prince, though the look of cold neutrality upon the teal alicorn's face was clear: 'Well. I'm waiting...' At first the terrified pegasus tried to deny everything. Then he attempted to blame his wife which also failed, since the poor unicorn mare - Glittersong by name and kindly by nature - hadn't even known the abuse of her colt was occurring! At this hemming and hawing, our Prince took a single step towards the pegasus stallion, the expression upon his face turning thunderous... and it was enough. Weeping, the pegasus, Stalwart Pride, confessed. Here then was a case of Pegasus Pride winning over being a nurturing Father; Stalwart was deeply shamed that his son had been born an Earth Pony; and shame turned to anger, turned to hate. 

For something that hadn't ever been, nor would ever be, the colt's fault. Needless to say, our Prince was not impressed. Stalwart Pride was sentenced the next day; he was escorted into the Nexus wherein he was taken to the Clinic and gelded, cleanly and professionally by the Autodoc. Stalwart Pride's sentence, however, did not end there. Still aching from the surgery as the anesthetic wore off, the now emasculated pegasus was escorted before the Golden Throne to face our Prince, whom sat therein with the colt, Proud Song, at his side. As Stalwart Pride was brought before him, once more our Prince's eyes opened... and this time, he inhaled a breath; at this, abruptly the sound ceased. 

All the Ponies of the Court went silent, for our Prince intended to speak, an event that was rare indeed, for our Prince rarely spoke at all, not unless he had something of deeply profound importance to say. Gently, the Prince rested a forehoof upon the colt Proud Song's forehead; then he leaned forwards to rest his other forehoof upon the forehead of the colt's abusive father. Then, his eyes glowing with psychic power, our Prince intoned a single word. "Memory..." he stated. The word was soft, it was whispered, it bore not the slightest hint of malice... but everypony in the court felt the sheer mental power imbued within it - especially Stalwart Pride - as it rolled through their minds like a muted thunderclap...

And then in the blink of an eye, in the beat of a heart, it was done. Sighing through his nose, a satisfied smile upon his lips, our Prince returned unto his rest, leaning back into the rest of his Throne. He was, however, aware on some level, because he often petted, occasionally tickled, and ruffled the mane of the little colt whom cuddled and nestled at his side even as he watched over us all through the Observers that acted as his eyes and the Templars whom acted as his hooves. As for the pegasus stallion, Stalwart Pride... He began to shiver, then tremble, and whimper, and finally wail as he fell to the floor, curling into a ball of shattered pony. Our Prince had shared with him little Proud Song's memories. Every beating. Every bruise. Every broken bone. Every harsh word. Every humiliation. Stalwart Pride experienced, - lived - all of it.

This all was archived by the Weyrmind, of course; and then it was released and shared throughout our fair city. Everypony who possessed a neural transceiver embedded within their spines, everypony joined by that transceiver unto the Weyrmind - all of us - we saw it all. That day, a city gasped, cried, gnashed teeth in furious anger; then we shivered, and held our foals close to us. Foals were precious and not to be abused, the prince had taught us, and we would heed his lesson well for if we did not... he would know. He would always know. And we would suffer the Fate of the pegasus, Stalwart Pride. But... what of little Proud Song? What became of him? Well, he became one of our Prince's most loyal and the Captain of the Templar Guard. But that, my friends, is a story for another time.