(The novel by Nicée 1/7) On the way to the Council

The exhausted gulls are falling from the open sea. For three days, the storm that accompanies the new moons let them reign alone on the raging waves of the “large sea in the middle of the land (1)”, off the city of Alexandreia*. Demetrios likes these winged creatures that he often comes to greet early in the morning, on the port, on their return. At 15, he sometimes dreams of being able, like them, to fly one day to the open sea. At the end of the pier, the old lighthouse which has made the reputation of the city for centuries is only the shadow of itself: the last time the earth trembled in the region, the floor which wore the tank where a fire maintained every night was built in the sea. Will its light shine again on the world?

It is another light, that of the bright sun, which draws Demetrios from his reverie. The great star, so venerated in these lands of Egypt, already rises above the ruins of what was once the temple of Cleopatra. How time has gone! His master Athanasios will still wait for him for the weekly meeting of Christians in the city! Tighten his shoulder bag against him, he starts running through the alleys of the old town. Crossing the Jewish district, he branches off towards the necropolis surrounded by teeming of the world, as if the life had, even on the outskirts of this immense city of the dead, rejuvenate constantly. Stunned, he rushes under the porch of a three -story house, greets two diaconoi* with a gesture that serve poor families with breads full of olive oil, and leads to the large interior courtyard. It is there, in the beneficial shade of centenary palm trees, that each beginning of the week, the Episkopos* Alexandros brings together its council, composed of officials of the different Christian communities of the city, and some men and women respected for their generosity and their wisdom. Demetrios comes to sit discreetly, on the ground, next to them. From his bag, he quickly took out his calame 2 which he dips in the water, kneaded the ink powder in his pocket and covers his tablet with papyrus leaves. Only then, he dares to raise his head towards Athanasios, his master, who trained him in the art of writing. His smile reassures him: for once, he is on time.

It is another light, that of the bright sun, which draws Demetrios from his reverie. The great star, so venerated in these lands of Egypt, already rises above the ruins of what was once the temple of Cleopatra. How time has gone! His master Athanasios will still wait for him for the weekly meeting of Christians in the city! Tighten his shoulder bag against him, he starts running through the alleys of the old town. Crossing the Jewish district, he branches off towards the necropolis surrounded by teeming of the world, as if the life had, even on the outskirts of this immense city of the dead, rejuvenate constantly.

Stunned, he rushes under the porch of a three -story house, greets two diaconoi* with a gesture that serve poor families with breads full of olive oil, and leads to the large interior courtyard. It is there, in the beneficial shade of centenary palm trees, that each beginning of the week, the Episkopos* Alexandros brings together its council, composed of officials of the different Christian communities of the city, and some men and women respected for their generosity and their wisdom. Demetrios comes to sit discreetly, on the ground, next to them. From his bag, he quickly took out his calame (2) which he dips in the water, kneaded the ink powder in his pocket and covers his tablet with papyrus leaves. Only then, he dares to raise his head towards Athanasios, his master, who trained him in the art of writing. His smile reassures him: for once, he is on time.

A speaker named Areios

Besides, Alexandros still holds his hands along the body, a sign that his words are nothing official and should not be noted at the moment. As usual for several months, he expressed his concern towards an Egyptian presbyteros, Areios. “The recent convocation of an assembly of managers of our communities in the Nile and Libya valley has obviously served nothing,” he explains. According to our information, far from returning to reason, AREIOS continues to use his speaker talents to turn the head of our brothers and sisters, now in Kaisareia and other cities in Anatolia (3). The division grows, even between the venerable patriarchs of our churches. So much so that today, the emperor himself gets involved. By the official letter here, Flavius ​​Valerius Aurelius Constantinus summons all those responsible for the churches to extinguish the fire that we cannot fight alone. He sighs. “Perhaps he is right. After all, Constantinos has ended the political divisions and the persecution of Christians in the Empire. Today he uses his authority to collect this great council. We should trust him. »»

At the end of the morning, while the young scribe brings his handwritten sheets to Athanasios, the latter takes him apart, in the official document room: “Demetrios!” Did you hear? Alexandros will leave in three days, with me and a few other delegates. We are going to join Bithynia, to Nikaia* where we are summoned. Prepare. You go with us. »»

(1) Mesogeios Thalassa “The large sea in the middle of the lands” is the name given to the Mediterranean in the 4th century.

(2) Small rose -cut in point for writing.

(3) Greek term which designates what was called Asia Minor, which covers a large part of current Turkey.