The sun was shining unusually bright in the morning as Princess Celestia strode through the hallways with a spring in her step. She smiled widely to every guard and servant going about their daily duties, greeting them with a cheerful demeanor not seen since Princess Luna had returned. Despite winter arriving, the air outside had warmed significantly, causing the weather team to try and gather some clouds to try and form the scheduled snowstorm in four days. In the Royal Gardens, part of the grounds crew had been recalled to contain an outbreak of Sun Gnats.
"Hello, Grassy Knoll," she said, stopping next to an old gardener spraying smoke into a hedge. "Wonderful day, isn't it?"
Grassy peeked at her through his worn hat and nodded. "Beautiful, your highness," he said in a shaky voice.
"Pesky things, aren't they?" she said, leaning in to look at the hedge closer. "Are there lots of gnats?"
"Yes, ma'am," Grassy replied, spraying another puff into the bush. "They've been trying to make these hedges their new homes for quite a while now."
Princess Celestia stared at the small branches, watching for any sign of movement when she heard the hooffalls of a pony rushing around the garden. Her ears perked up and she lifted her head, glancing around as Grassy Knoll sprayed another puff of smoke. The sounds gradually shifted around and she noticed they were following the lines in the hedges.
"Princess Celestia!" somepony shouted. "Princess, are you in here?"
Turning back to Grassy Knoll, she smiled and bowed her head slightly. "It seems I am needed elsewhere."
"Your highness," he replied, nodding to her.
She turned and trotted around the hedge, leaving Grassy to toil with the Sun Gnats. A smile touched her lips when she passed the statue of the cellist, watching it while she passed by. It was a lovely statue that rarely got any attention back here in the Royal Gardens. Perhaps she could open up the Royal Gardens to visitors again, especially since the changeling threat had finally blown over. The Royal Guard surely wouldn't care much for standing guard among the hedges, making sure nopony wandered off.
Her eyebrows raised as a Royal Guard darted past another statue not too far away. "Princess Celestia!" he shouted, scanning down the pathways before turning and locking eyes with her. "Oh, thank the goddess I found you!"
"What seems to be the trouble, dear guardspony?" she asked with a smile.
He breathed heavily, managed to snap a salute and said, "My Princess, your sister has requested you to meet her in the Observation Tower. I am here to escort you there."
Celestia raised her eyebrows. "Oh? What does she want? I thought she would be asleep by now."
The guard shook his head. "She ordered me to find you as fast as possible."
"Oh dear," she replied, glancing up at the tower in the distance. "I do hope nothing is wrong."
"If you would come with me, your highness," he said, sweeping a hoof towards the castle.
Celestia nodded and trotted along behind the guard, still smiling and greeting all the help they passed as they maneuvered through the corridors. Though it seemed this was a matter of importance, Luna hadn't been specific in why she needed her, meaning this was probably something personal. She had been rather moody and upset since returning to her station, her emotions boiling over on that infamous Nightmare Night episode and the dreadful Tantabus incident. Perhaps there was something she still felt guilty about? Regardless, it failed to dampen Celestia's mood as she eventually arrived at the Observation Tower, smiling to her escort.
The door creaked open and she strode inside, glancing about. She had to repress a chuckle when she noticed the books strewn about the room, the cup of lukewarm coffee sitting atop a stack of parchment and Luna's face buried in a book. Despite having a shorter temper than her older sister, Luna often would become a bookworm if left alone for long enough. Celestia willed the door behind her shut and Luna's ears perked up.
"Sister, we have been expecting thee," she said, snapping the book shut.
"So I've heard," Celestia replied. "Is there something on your mind?"
"Actually, there is. There was a disturbance in the dreamscape last night, a powerful one. We feared it might have been the Tantabus again, but when we investigated, we found your dream was hidden from us," Luna said, trotting over and sipping her coffee. "We are most curious how and why thou would hide thy dreams from us."
Celestia tilted her head and knit her brow. "But I wasn't hiding anything, dear sister."
"What was thou dreaming of, then?" Luna asked, raising her eyebrows.
"Um, let's see. I was on a beach, enjoying the sun when this wonderful stallion stepped on my mane," Celestia said, tapping her hoof on her chin. "We started talking and after that, I don't remember much. I do know he was handsome, had a funny accent and--"
"Are you sure this is what you were dreaming of?" Luna asked as she stepped closer, her horn starting to glow.
"Quite sure."
"Doth thou mind if we take a look at thy memories, then? We are not suspicious, just perturbed by you being cut off from us."
Celestia smiled. "Of course not, dear sister. I have nothing to hide, though I am curious as to why my dreams were closed off from you as well."
Luna stopped walking closer and turned her hear, illuminating a space in the air with her midnight blue magic. A scene much like the starry sky filled the space, each star twinkling and some brighter than others.
"This is a normal night when we traverse the dreamscape," Luna said, waving her hoof at the image. "Nothing out of the ordinary or strange, would thou say?"
"I agree," Celestia said, staring deep into the image.
"Now here is thou," she said, pointing to a particularly bright segment near the center of the map. "Thy dreams are quite strong in the ether, meaning thou is sleeping well."
"I see."
"This was yesternight," Luna said as the image shimmered. It looked very similar to the previous map, but there was a slim beam of light stretching up to the top of the image, past the edge of the map and starting where she had indicated Celestia was.
"Oh dear," Celestia whispered.
"'Tis a phenomena we have yet to encounter before," Luna said, looking at the image as well. "It appeared as if there was something there that ought not have been, stemming from thy mind. Can thou remember anything odd at all from thy slumber?"
Celestia blinked. "No, nothing I..."
Luna raised her eyebrows again as the image faded. "Nothing thou what, sister?"
"I don't know," she replied, shaking her head. "I just remember the stallion having a funny accent and talking about nonsensical lands."
Luna sat on her rump as her horn glowed, eyeing her sister with a curious expression. "May we see for ourselves?"
Celestia nodded as she felt a cool wind wash down the back of her head, following her spine while she watched Luna's eyes glow pure white. A flash later, she found herself reclining on the beach again, sighing as the warm wind blew her mane gently. The perfect day seemed to go on forever until she felt a hoof step on her mane, tugging it as she leaned forward. "Hey! Luna!"
Jacques pressed himself through a small crowd as they shouted in unison, waving their arms in the air and cheering when loaves of bread were thrown into the mass of people. They clamored over each other, ripping apart the loaves and stuffing the chunks into their mouths when Jacques finally shook off the last body pressed against his. Wiping off his overcoat, he straightened his collar and strode off down the avenue, listening to the roar of the mob fade away.
La Cité was a place of heavy turmoil when the Revolution took hold, becoming the stronghold as the army moved to defend the cathedral of Notre Dame. They had barricaded the interior, facing cannons at the entryway and setting up perhaps the largest store of gold and art from the palaces and galleries to, in their words, 'preserve France's treasures'. Despite the largest church in all of France under martial law, though, people still flooded the islands, scrounging for food from the various wagons and boats that passed by. Jacques glanced at the courtyard in front of the cathedral as he walked by, keeping his steps light. A formidable mob had formed in front of the impressive walls, shouting to release the treasures within and to be allowed access to pray.
Cringing, Jacques kept walking with his head down, slipping between the various other citizens parading and reveling like a shadow. As he walked, thoughts swirled about his mind of what happened last night. From a boy, he had been taught God communicated with people through dreams, sometimes directly or with angels. While the woman in his dreams claimed she was not of divine origin, a pit formed in his stomach when he remembered her perfect face and intoxicating eyes. Surely, she was something more than just a simple figment of his mind, whether she told him or not.
He jumped as his shoulder collided with something firm, staggering back when a huge hunk of a man turned to him. He wore an eyepatch and snarled like a rabid dog.
"Pardon," Jacques said, nodding quickly before turning to continue down the street. Unfortunately, his jacket collar tugged sharply and he was thrown back, slipping and falling to the ground when the man stepped up to him.
"What do you think you're doing here?" the man grunted as he slammed the butt of the pole into the mud.
Jacques coughed as he stood, wiping the dirt from himself. "Nothing, citizen. I am just heading to church."
The man laughed, sounding like a cross between a cough and a wheeze. "Fool, the only church to pray at is behind you."
Jacques cringed at the noise, rubbing his ear. "No, my priest is at Saint-Etienne," he said.
He had little time to react as the man spit in his face and grabbed his jacket, lifting him into the air. "Liar! Only nobles go to Saint-Etienne! You're not a noble, are you?"
Jacques gripped the man's arms as he struggled to hold himself up, staring directly into his one eye. The man snarled, revealing a nearly toothless mouth as more men gathered around, repeating his accusation of nobility. Frantically, Jacques pounded on the man's arms before kicking forward, landing a shot to his chest and his grip loosened. Landing on his feet, he looked up to hear the man wheeze and a shout rise from the men.
"Noble!" they screamed, charging at him.
Panic overtook Jacques' mind as he turned and bolted down the road, barely avoiding the other onlookers and citizens as the men gave pursuit. Their shouts rang out along with the sounds of blades, forcing Jacques to run faster before taking a sharp turn and weaving his way into the crowd in front of Notre Dame. His heart pounded in his ears as he gently made his way through the rabble, glancing back to see the men reach the edge of the crowd. A fresh wave of terror washed over him as he pushed through the mob more, listening as a roar of anger arose behind him.
Once he finished weaving past the mob, Jacques took off around the corner and pressed himself behind one of the support pillars along the cathedral. Gasping for air, he risked peeking around the corner and sighed when he saw only a few people give him a funny look. He ran a hand through his hair and leaned on his knees when a hooded man walked past. He wore a simple brown cloak with a rope tied around his waist, the traditional garb of a monk. Pushing himself from the pillar, Jacques walked up behind him and leaned forward.
"Excuse me, friar?" he asked.
The monk turned to him, looking at him with crystal blue eyes. "Yes, my son?"
Jacques breathed a sigh of relief and placed both hands on his shoulders. "Oh, thank God I found you. I... erm, I had a vision last night I need to speak to a man of God about."
The monk frowned. "I am but a mere servant of our Lord. I cannot interpret dreams. Perhaps a priest or bishop, but not a humble monk."
Jacques frowned. "But if you cannot, would God not lead me to you to interpret a vision he showed me?"
The monk was silent for a few seconds before a smile split his face. Reaching up, he pulled his hood back, revealing a head of long silver hair. He stood up taller, matching Jacques' height and reached out a hand. "Well said, my son. Clearly you were brought to me for a reason. My name is Brother Haugen."
Jacques reached out and shook his hand. "Monsieur Jacques Desmarais."
"Good name," Brother Haugen said. "I knew of several Desmarais before the Revolution began. Wonderful people."
Jacques smiled as he walked with Haugen, listening as speaking on several subjects about being a monk and follower of Christianity before the monk stopped and leaned against the stone wall, overlooking the Seine.
"Yes, being a monk is not an easy path, but I don't think I could've done better with my life elsewhere. Enough about me, though, you said you had a vision while you slept?"
"Oui," Jacques said, leaning against the wall as well. "I met someone in a dream last night, a woman."
Brother Haugen's face hardened as he glanced out at the Seine. "A woman?"
"Yes, a wonderful woman who seemed beyond any woman I've ever met. She had long flowing hair of rainbow colors and wore robes of pure white."
Brother Haugen rubbed his chin as he glanced back at Jacques. "Did she give you a name."
Jacques' mouth dried as he looked down, racking his mind for the name the angel used.
"Celestia," he said, looking up at Haugen.
"What a strange dream," Luna said as Celestia blinked.
Celestia sat down herself, feeling her cheeks burn as the image of Jacques stayed in her mind. If it was possible, she had noticed even more about him when she revisited her dream, noting how gentle he was when he spoke and how often she stared into his eyes. Though she had never met an alicorn stallion before, he was exactly how she envisioned them: as tall as she was and had a commanding presence.
"Sister?" Luna said, leaning over to look into Celestia's face.
"I'm sorry! What did you say?" Celestia said, stiffening.
Luna raised an eyebrow at her before standing up and trotting back to her desk, stifling a yawn. "It appears thy dream was just a common envisioning of an ideal mate, a dream most ponies have. We sensed no disturbance upon the ether in thy mind as well, meaning there was no outside interference."
"So, I just had a typical dream and no pony was altering my mind?" Celestia asked.
Luna facehoofed and groaned. "If thou wishes to put it bluntly, then yes."
"But," Celestia replied, thinking about the ether map again. "Then what was within your dreamscape?"
Luna stared down at an ancient book, her tired eyes scanning the weathered words. "We do not know. Perhaps a simple anomaly or some bizarre reaction to a certain stimuli. We cannot be sure, but we shall investigate it later."
Celestia smiled as Luna covered her mouth, yawning fiercely into it. "Of course. Do get some rest, sister."
Luna blinked as she turned, her horn glowing again. "Do inform us if thou has any strange experiences when thou sleeps, sister."
"Will do, Luna," Celestia said, nodding.
A bright flash of magic filled the room, clearing instantly to show an empty chamber. Smiling, Celestia sat there in the silence and thought more about Jacques, wondering how she could've come up with such an odd 'ideal mate' as Luna put it. He certainly was handsome, but the dream felt more vivid than before when she thought about what he said. The place named 'France' rang a bell in her memory, from somewhere very long ago and far away. While the other nonsense like 'Africa', 'China' and 'America' seemed like gibberish, the word 'France' stuck in her mind.
She shrugged, though, and looked out to the sunny day and the green castle grounds. Perhaps she would find out more about it when she slept tonight, and possibly more about Jacques as well. While he was a figment of her imagination, it would be interesting to see what her subconscious 'perfect mate' was like.
Another bright flash of light left the room devoid of anypony, even as a small scrap of parchment drifted to the floor. A light gust of wind from the magic pushed it towards the wall where it slipped between the stone and side of a bookcase. It landed silently, its edges curling around the fancy script reading, 'La France'.
Brother Haugen tapped his fingers on the stone, lost in deep thought as Jacques leaned on the wall, staring into the river. It had been a while since either one had spoken, leaving an uneasy air between them. Jacques had told him everything he remembered about Celestia, from her hair to her being the princess of a far off land. While he couldn't remember the name exactly, he could remember the name didn't make sense.
"And you're sure you had not drank any wine before this dream?" Haugen asked.
Jacques nodded, turning to look at the monk. The sun hung overhead, meaning they had been discussing this matter for over an hour now, when Brother Haugen sighed and turned to Jacques.
"I do not recall any angel by the name of Celestia in our studies, my friend," he said, chuckling. "Perhaps she is one sent specially to you?"
Jacques cringed. "But why? I am nothing special."
"Neither was Peter, John and James when our Lord called them," Haugen said, slapping a hand on Jacques' shoulder. "Perhaps God is sending you a message in response to the Revolution? Who is to say he is not?"
A pit formed in Jacques' stomach as he thought about possibly being a prophet. "He wants me to speak the words of an angel no one has ever heard of?"
Brother Haugen stopped laughing and gripped Jacques' shoulder firmly. "My son, pray about it. I shall do so as well and together, we'll see if God will reveal this mystery to us. The way you describe her is nothing like a demon or succubus, but more like a saint. Her very name also seems to have something to do with heaven."
"Yes, but even though she is beautiful to behold, is it right for me to converse with her?" Jacques asked, turning and looking Brother Haugen in the eyes.
A small smile touched his lips as he pulled his hood up. "If God did not will it, then she wouldn't have spoken to you in the first place. Go in peace and tell me more when she speaks to you again. I stay here in Notre Dame for most of the day."
Jacques swallowed hard, but nodded. "I will, friar."
Brother Haugen nodded and patted Jacques' shoulder before walking off towards the towering building, leaving Jacques to stare at the river all alone. His mind reeled as he thought about Celestia and the possibility of her being an angel. She seemed so pure, just like those angels the Bible described, and spoke of being princess to a kingdom. A smile touched his face as he nodded. Perhaps she was indeed an angel sent to communicate with him.
Perhaps she was God's response to what happened three weeks ago.