L'Eglise Aristotelicienne Romaine The Roman and Aristotelic Church

[Ferecide]

The Hall of the Prophets had been set up by the staff of the Museum to host the presentation of the new exhibition about the life of the First Prophet. The wonderful marble floor reflected the intense sunlight coming through the windows, giving the room a supernatural appereance. Many chairs had been set up, and different silk curtains covered the paintings that would have been revealed today. Monsignor Ferecide as Prefect of the Museums oversaw personally the organization of the staff, and once everything was ready for the exhibition, ordered one of his assistants to open the tall gold plated wooden doors. It was time for the collection "The Life of Aristotle" to be shown to the world: many artists had put much effort to present the best works of art in this holy gallery, and now the moment all of them had patiently waited for was here.
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[Lunax]

EN

Luna was in her palace when the messenger arrived, his presence announced by the light, measured footsteps echoing along the silent corridors. With a solemn gesture, he handed her a sealed letter: the official invitation to the exhibition at the Museum. As she read it, an immediate wave of excitement washed over her. She knew Ferecide well and was fully aware of the dedication and effort he had poured into this exhibition, as with every task he undertook; his precision and rigor were legendary.

Without a moment’s hesitation, Luna began to prepare. It was winter, and her outfit reflected the season: heavy fabrics that fell elegantly around her legs, a lined cloak that wrapped around her like a second skin, light gloves that creaked softly with every movement of her fingers, and a sober stole to complete the ensemble. Every detail had been chosen with care, from the fur-trimmed hat to her sturdy yet refined shoes.

She informed Daniele, her husband, of the invitation, sharing her excitement for the event. Together they arranged the journey, and shortly afterward, they climbed into the carriage that would take them to the Museum. Upon arrival, the carriage slowed before the Museum, which stood solemn under the cold light. Luna descended gracefully, the sound of fabric rustling under her feet mingling with the soft crunch of snow. The biting cold brushed against her face, but it did nothing to diminish her enthusiasm. Daniele offered her his arm, and together they entered, greeted by the composed yet vibrant atmosphere of the occasion: staff moving about, guests arriving, and the whispered anticipation that preceded the official opening.

Luna advanced toward the Hall of the Prophets with a confident step, feeling the solid Museum floor beneath her feet and the light weight of her gown and cloak resting on her shoulders. Everything she saw was the fruit of meticulous effort and passion, as always, and a shiver of admiration mixed with excitement ran through her, fully aware that she was witnessing a moment unmistakably marked by the hand of the Prefect of the Museums.

ITA

Luna si trovava nel suo palazzo quando il messo giunse, il suo arrivo annunciato dai passi leggeri e misurati lungo i corridoi silenziosi. Con gesto solenne le porse una missiva sigillata: l’invito ufficiale alla mostra al Museo. Nel leggerla, un’immediata ondata di entusiasmo la pervase. Conosceva bene Ferecide e sapeva quanto impegno e dedizione avesse riversato in quell’esposizione, come in ogni incarico che assumeva; la sua precisione e il rigore erano leggendari.

Senza perdere un attimo, Luna si preparò. Era inverno, e il suo abito rifletteva la stagione: tessuti pesanti che scivolavano elegantemente attorno alle gambe, un mantello foderato che la avvolgeva come una seconda pelle, guanti chiari che scrocchiavano leggermente al movimento delle dita e una stola sobria che completava il tutto. Ogni dettaglio era scelto con cura, dal cappello bordato di pelliccia fino alle calzature robuste ma raffinate.

Informò Daniele, suo marito, dell’invito, condividendo con lui l’eccitazione per l’evento. Organizzarono insieme il viaggio e poco dopo salirono sulla carrozza che li avrebbe condotti al Museo. All’arrivo, la carrozza rallentò davanti al Museo, che si ergeva solenne sotto la luce fredda. Luna scese con grazia, il suono del tessuto che si piegava sotto i piedi si mescolava al lieve scricchiolio della neve. Il freddo pungente le accarezzava il viso, ma non scalfiva il suo entusiasmo. Daniele le porse il braccio e insieme varcarono l’ingresso, accolti dall’atmosfera composta e vibrante dell’occasione: il personale in movimento, gli ospiti che arrivavano e i sussurri di attesa che precedevano l’apertura ufficiale.

All’arrivo, la carrozza rallentò davanti al Museo, che si ergeva solenne sotto la luce fredda. Luna scese con grazia, il suono del tessuto che si piegava sotto i piedi si mescolava al lieve scricchiolio della neve. Il freddo pungente le accarezzava il viso, ma non scalfiva il suo entusiasmo. Daniele le porse il braccio e insieme varcarono l’ingresso, accolti dall’atmosfera composta e vibrante dell’occasione: il personale in movimento, e i sussurri di attesa che precedevano l’apertura ufficiale.

Luna avanzò verso la Sala dei Profeti con passo sicuro, sentendo sotto i piedi il solido pavimento del Museo e percependo il leggero peso dell’abito e del mantello che le avvolgevano le spalle. Tutto era frutto del suo impegno meticoloso e della sua passione, come sempre, e Luna sentì un brivido di ammirazione mista a emozione, consapevole di assistere a un momento che portava la firma inconfondibile del Prefetto dei Musei.
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[Kalixtus]

The entrance of Cardinal Kalixtus into the Vatican Museums unfolded not as the mere movement of a body through space, but as an event in which time itself seemed to pause, holding its breath in order to bear witness.

The massive doors of the Museums opened slowly, as though obeying not so much human hands as the silent and inexorable will of the order embodied by Kalixtus. The marble beneath his steps was ancient and venerable, smoothed by the weight of centuries, and yet it appeared to listen anew, as if recognizing its master. The Museums—treasuries of the world’s memory—belonged to the Congregation of Kalixtus, and they were aware of it. Within their halls rested not merely works of art, but power itself: contained, disciplined, and sanctified.

Kalixtus advanced deliberately, in perfect self-command, the purple of his vestments resembling congealed blood—heavy, yet vital. His gaze was lifted, not in arrogance, but in certainty. He did not enter in order to observe; he entered in order to judge, to order, and to interpret. Wherever he passed, heads were bowed; wherever he remained silent, no one dared to interrupt that silence. His countenance bore the calm known only to those who have learned to live with truths that would shatter others.

At the threshold of the grand gallery he was received by the Prefect of the exhibition, Bishop Ferecide—a man of keen intellect and carefully cultivated humility, whose hands had borne the burden of preparing this act of revelation.

For this exhibition was not a simple arrangement of artifacts. It was an act of invocation. The life of the First Prophet—that figure who was the first to hear a voice that does not implore but commands—was here unfolded like an open book of stone, parchment, and light. Relics, fragments, scrolls, and images breathed the dust of origins. Each room constituted a station; each display case, a test of faith.

Kalixtus paused for a moment. The world appeared to gather itself around him. Then he lowered his gaze—not toward Ferecide, but toward the invisible space between them: toward the burden of history, the violence inherent in revelation, and the cost of being the first. A barely perceptible nod sufficed. It conveyed approval, recognition, and warning simultaneously.

With this gesture, the presentation began—not with words, but with presence. Kalixtus entered the first hall, and with him the Church itself entered—not as a comforting mother, but as the uncompromising guardian of origins. The Museums were transformed into a temple, the exhibition into a liturgy, and the First Prophet rose from the dust of millennia, not to be loved, but to be understood anew.

Thus the evening commenced not as a celebration, but as a trial. And Cardinal Kalixtus, head of the Congregation, proceeded like a high priest of memory, fully aware that every truth displayed is simultaneously a wound—and that only those may rule who have learned to bear it openly.

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[Wedzimir]

EN

Wedzimir Lubomirski arrived at the Museums of Rome without haste, accompanied by Rozali - a friend whose presence carried something soothing, almost protective. He felt no need to draw attention; he had come with the hope of spending a quiet, unhurried time, allowing the moment itself to guide him toward silence and contemplation.

When they reached the threshold, he paused briefly and made a simple, courteous gesture with his hand.
- Please - he said softly, letting Rozali enter first with natural politeness.

He followed a moment later.

He received the interior of the Hall of the Prophets with a faint tension. He knew that somewhere among the marble, the light, and the silence hung his own paintings as well - testimonies of faith given form, now exposed to the eyes of hierarchs, scholars, and members of the Church. That awareness caused him to lower his gaze for a brief moment, as if in a wordless prayer.

After a moment, he raised it again, letting his eyes move calmly across the hall, searching for familiar faces and, with equal curiosity, taking in the new ones.

PL

Wedzimir Lubomirski przybył do Muzeów Rzymu bez pośpiechu, w towarzystwie Rozali - przyjaciółki, której obecność miała w sobie coś kojącego, niemal ochronnego. Nie miał potrzeby przyciągać spojrzeń; przyszedł z myślą o spokojnie spędzonym czasie, pozwalając, by chwila prowadziła go ku ciszy i kontemplacji.

Gdy stanęli u progu, zatrzymał się na moment i wykonał prosty, uprzejmy gest dłonią.
- Zapraszam - powiedział cicho, puszczając Rozali przodem, z naturalną grzecznością.

Następnie wszedł sam.

Wnętrze Sali Proroków przyjął z lekkim napięciem. Wiedział, że gdzieś pomiędzy marmurem, światłem i ciszą wiszą również jego obrazy - świadectwa wiary ujętej w formę, wystawione teraz na spojrzenia hierarchów, uczonych i ludzi Kościoła. To właśnie ta świadomość sprawiła, że na krótką chwilę spuścił wzrok, jakby w bezsłownej modlitwie.

Po chwili uniósł go ponownie, pozwalając spojrzeniu spokojnie przesunąć się po wnętrzu sali, w poszukiwaniu znajomych twarzy i z równą ciekawością tych nowych.
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[Julian1997]

Julian had also joined the great opening of the Exposition for several reasons. First, well, he wanted to support a man that had started becoming a good friend. He was very fond of Ferecide noble endeavour. How could one not applaud his efforts to give life to the culture and arts of Rome? Also, Julian was very curious to see the work of the “rivals”, ore may one say the competitors in this Olympic game of art and talent. Yes, it was not the noblest of sentiments, but honestly, he really wanted to know who the other contributors were. Maybe he could even learn some artistic tricks by observing their work in detail, which could come handy for further works? And last but not least, it was also an excuse to explore the Museum, largely unknown to everybody, one of the perks to be a simple priest.
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[V.i.o.l.e.t]

EN
The invitation arrived on a quiet morning, sealed with wax and bearing the coat of arms of the Prefect of Museums, her great friend. It was not a simple official card, but a personal letter, written in elegant handwriting, asking her to attend the opening of the Museums of Rome as a welcome friend. Maria Costanza read those lines several times, feeling a deep sense of honor growing within her. Nothing would prevent her from attending to pay homage to such a work of art and commitment.

The journey to Rome was short but full of expectations. The Countess crossed countryside, hills, and ancient roads traveled by pilgrims and merchants. As the Eternal City drew nearer, its skyline stood out on the horizon and the sound of bells and the bustle of the streets welcomed her with an almost familiar solemnity.

When she entered the Hall of Prophets, the marble floor reflected the sunlight, creating clear and solemn reflections under her footsteps. Along the walls, the large paintings were still hidden by silk curtains held in place by golden cords. Maria Costanza advanced slowly, aware of the symbolic weight of that moment: amid the light, the marble, and the silent drapes, she felt she was part of a solemn moment.


IT
L’invito giunse in una mattina quieta, sigillato con la ceralacca e recante lo stemma del Prefetto dei Musei, suo grande Amico. Non era un semplice biglietto ufficiale, ma una lettera personale, scritta con mano elegante che le chiedeva di presenziare all'apertura dei Musei di Roma quale gradita Amica. Maria Costanza lesse quelle righe più volte sentendo crescere in sé un senso profondo di onore, nulla avrebbe ostacolato la sua presenza per rendere omaggio ad un tale lavoro di Arte e impegno.

Il viaggio verso Roma fu breve ma carico di aspettative. La Contessa attraversò campagne, colline e strade antiche percorse da pellegrini e mercanti. Man mano che la città eterna si avvicinava, il suo profilo si stagliava all'orizzonte ed il suono delle campane e il brulicare delle vie la accolsero con una solennità quasi familiare.

Quando fece il suo ingresso nella Sala dei Profeti, il marmo del pavimento rifletteva la luce del sole creando riflessi chiari e solenni sotto i suoi passi. Lungo le pareti, i grandi dipinti erano ancora celati da tendaggi di seta trattenuti da cordoni dorati. Maria Costanza avanzò lentamente, consapevole del peso simbolico di quel momento: tra la luce, il marmo e i drappi silenziosi sentì di essere parte di un momento solenne.
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[Ameliia]

EN

It was the first time she had ever been in such noble interiors, overwhelmed by their vastness and by the echo that seemed to linger everywhere. She walked slowly and with dignity, half a step behind the Reverend Wedzimir, absorbing with her whole being everything that surrounded her.

They entered a great hall where the works of the assembled guests were on display, and where people were gradually gathering. The atmosphere made her heart beat faster; there was so much emotion in the air, and one could clearly sense something that could only be called solemn grandeur.

She struggled to steady her breath, which had quickened with awe, and to calm the trembling of her hands, fearful of committing a faux pas. Leaning closer to Wedzimir, she whispered with a quiver in her voice:
Reverend, do you know the people gathered here? -,
She looked at him with a plea in her eyes.
Please, explain to me who is who, so that I do not bring you shame or say something inappropriate to the wrong person. -,

PL

Po raz pierwszy była w tak zacnych wnętrzach, które przytłaczały ją swoim ogromem, ale i wszechobecnym echem. Szła powoli i dostojnie, pół kroku za wielebnym Wedzimirem, chłonąc całym swym jestestwem wszystko to, co ją otaczało.

Weszli do ogromnej sali, gdzie wystawione były dzieła zebranych gości, którzy powoli zaczynali się gromadzić. Atmosfera sprawiała, że jej serce biło szybciej - było w niej tyle emocji, a nad wszystkim unosiło się wyraźne poczucie dostojności.

Starała się opanować oddech, przyspieszony wrażeniem, oraz drżenie rąk, obawiając się, by nie popełnić gafy. Nachyliła się ku Wedzimirowi i drżącym szeptem zapytała:
Wielebny, czy znasz tych ludzi zgromadzonych tutaj?,
Spojrzała na niego z błaganiem w oczach.
Proszę, wytłumacz mi, kto jest kim, abym nie przyniosła ci wstydu i nie powiedziała komuś czegoś nieodpowiedniego.
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[haydee]

She had met Ferecide at Imperial University, where they were both lecturers.
And they both taught Art (he certainly with more prestige!).
They had hit it off immediately, which is why she had greatly appreciated the invitation.

She had involved Otello, who, to tell the truth, had gladly agreed, and they had gone to the exhibition.
Coming from a completely different culture, but having recently been baptised, the young girl was very curious to see the exhibition on the life of Aristotle.

[Otello_]

Non avrebbe mai rinunciato a quella visita ai musei vaticani assieme ad Haydèe. In realtà non avrebbe rinunciato a stare con lei, per qualsiasi esperienza, per nulla al mondo.
Quella volta addirittura si trattava di una mostra d'arte, che lui amava.


He would never have given up that visit to the Vatican Museums with Haydée. In fact, he would never have given up being with her, for any experience, for anything in the world.
This time it was even an art exhibition, which he loved.
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[Noel.]

The young white knight had set off for Rome, a journey that would be long, but he would have gone to the ends of the earth to fulfil his sacred duty. Discreet but elegantly dressed, his clothes were adorned with subtle red and gold decorations. Humble and reserved, he followed, almost hidden in the shadows, the group around His Eminence Kalixtus, as always attentive with his piercing eyes that let nothing escape him.

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Le jeune chevalier blanc s'était mis en route pour Rome, un voyage qui allait être long, mais il aurait été jusqu'au bout du monde pour accomplir son devoir sacré. Discret mais élégamment vêtu, ses habits étaient ornés de subtiles décorations rouges et dorées. Humble et réservé, il suivait, presque caché dans l'ombre, le groupe autour de Son Éminence Kalixtus, comme toujours attentif de ses yeux perçants qui ne laissaient rien échapper.
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[Branwyn]

Branwyn's footsteps echoed softly across the polished stone floor as she crossed the threshold of the museum. Her movement was steady, unhurried, carried by an attitude that sought no reason to conform.

The robe she wore was made of heavy silk satin, densely woven and dyed a deep purple, a shade that could only be achieved by repeated dyeing with precious pigments. The fabric had little sheen, but rather a calm, closed surface that dampened the light. The skirt was tightly woven, held in shape by internal linen reinforcements, and converged at a clearly defined waist.

The skirt fell in wide panels to the floor. Several gores were inserted into the cut to give the fabric volume without making it appear heavy. The hem lay close to the floor without dragging and moved only slightly with each step. The lining was made of fine silk in plain weave, smooth to avoid breaking the drape of the outer fabric. Tone-on-tone embroidery in purple silk ran along the seams. The motifs were restrained foliage and simple geometric lines, barely visible from a distance, but clean and precisely executed. They served less as decoration than as structure for the garment.

Over the dress, Branwyn wore a long coat, cut in the style of a clerical surcoat. The outer fabric was made of fine wool cloth, densely fulled, also dyed purple. The collar was trimmed with ermine, carefully crafted, the white fur even and without excessive markings. The cloak was worn open, without a clasp, and rested firmly on her shoulders. Around her neck was a simple necklace with a set purple stone engraving, amethyst, worked in silver. It was small enough not to stand out and disappeared into the fabric of the robe when she moved. She wore no other adornments. The sleeves of the dress were narrow, reaching to the wrists, without cuffs. Her hands remained unadorned, free of rings or gloves. Everything about this garment was designed for durability and order, not for immediate effect.

Several guests were already present. The bishop's wife headed purposefully towards the cardinal and greeted him warmly with a brief hug and a hint of a kiss on both cheeks. "How lovely to see you here," she greeted him. As Head of the Congregation, it was only natural for her to attend the opening, so her words were actually superfluous. She should have said instead: How lovely to see you.

After greeting the Cardinal, she looked around for Father Ferecide. He, too, was warmly welcomed and congratulated on the exhibition.

After greeting all the other guests with a nod and a friendly "Good afternoon," she turned her attention to the exhibition. She moved calmly through the room between the large panels and scenes from the life of Aristotle. The violet of her robe stood out clearly between the golden tones of the frames and the darker wall hangings. The fabric absorbed the light without reflecting it back.

When Branwyn stopped in front of one of the paintings, the robe lay still around her. No fold shifted unnecessarily. The fabric followed her posture, not her movement. For a moment, the room seemed collected, as if its order had closed around this point.
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[Wedzimir]

EN

Wedzimir’s gaze moved calmly across the hall. He quickly noticed His Eminence Kalixtus and bowed deeply before him, with due respect. A moment later, he inclined his head toward Monsignor Ferecide, and as he moved on, he attempted a discreet gesture of greeting toward the remaining guests, without disturbing their conversations.

He was still searching for His Eminence Sforza when he caught Rozali’s whisper. He turned toward her with a light, reassuring smile and replied quietly, mindful that this was her first time in Rome and among such a distinguished gathering.

- Some of them, yes - he answered calmly - Some others I know only by name or by reputation. In Rome, that is nothing unusual.

- I hope there will be an opportunity to greet Bishop Ferecide and speak with him about the exhibition - he added after a moment - Provided, of course, that he is not too busy. After all, it was through such a conversation that our acquaintance began, and that is why we are here today.

- Cardinal Kalixtus appears to be occupied - he continued more quietly. In his tone there was the respect due to a former professor.

- We are also waiting for Cardinal Sforza - he added gently - but I hope that, while contemplating the exhibited works, we will also meet new people. - he glanced around the hall - Don't worry, you are not the only one who does not know many people here.

Though he maintained a calm demeanor, deep down he felt a slight unease. He did not allow it to show, letting the place and the moment speak for themselves.

For a moment, he limited himself to observation: clergy greeting one another like old acquaintances, the faithful discovering the Church through art, figures moving with the confidence of people accustomed to such interiors. It made him realize that such exhibitions are not only a narrative of memory and faith, but also a space where paths and experiences briefly cross beneath the same roof.

PL

Spojrzenie Wedzimira spokojnie przesunęło się po sali. Szybko dostrzegł Jego Eminencję Kalixtusa i skłonił się przed nim głęboko, z należnym szacunkiem. Chwilę później skinął głową w stronę Monsignora Ferecide, a idąc dalej, starał się wykonać dyskretny gest powitania wobec pozostałych gości, nie zakłócając ich rozmów.

Wypatrywał jeszcze Jego Eminencji Sforzy, gdy dosłyszał szept Rozali. Odwrócił się ku niej z lekkim, uspokajającym uśmiechem i odpowiedział cicho, pamiętając, że był to jej pierwszy pobyt w Rzymie i w tak znamienitym gronie.

- Niektórych tak - odparł spokojnie - Innych znam jedynie z nazwiska lub z opowieści. W Rzymie to nic niezwykłego.

- Mam nadzieję, że będzie okazja przywitać się z biskupem Ferecide i porozmawiać z nim o wystawie - dodał po chwili - O ile oczywiście nie będzie zbyt zajęty. W końcu od takiej rozmowy zaczęła się nasza znajomość i dlatego dziś tu jesteśmy.

- Kardynał Kalixtus wygląda na zajętego - kontynuował ciszej. W jego tonie pobrzmiewał respekt należny dawnemu profesorowi.

- Czekamy także na Kardynała Sforzę - dodał łagodnie - ale mam nadzieję, że przy okazji kontemplacji wystawionych dzieł poznamy też nowe osoby. - rozejrzał się po sali - Spokojnie, nie tylko ty nie znasz tu wielu osób.

Choć zachowywał spokój, w głębi odczuwał lekkie zdenerwowanie. Nie dawał jednak tego po sobie poznać, pozwalając, by to miejsce i chwila mówiły same za siebie.

Przez moment ograniczył się do obserwacji: duchownych witających się jak dawni znajomi, wiernych odkrywających Kościół poprzez sztukę, postaci poruszających się z pewnością ludzi przywykłych do takich wnętrz. Uświadomiło mu to, że podobne wystawy są nie tylko opowieścią o pamięci i wierze, lecz także przestrzenią spotkania dróg i doświadczeń, które na krótko przecinają się pod tym samym sklepieniem.
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[Ameliia]

EN

I listened carefully to what he was saying, trying to remember as many details as possible, and nodded in greeting to the people Vladimir greeted.
Everything was still new and unfamiliar, but as more people arrived, I began to feel more at ease, although I knew perfectly well that I had to maintain composure and rein in my direct temperament.

PL

Słuchałam uważnie tego co mówił, starałam się zapamiętać jak najwięcej szczegółów i skłaniałam głowę w pozdrowieniu osobom, które pozdrawiał Wiedzimir.
Nadal wszystko było nowe i nieznane ale w miarę pojawiania się kolejnych osób zaczynałam czuć się swobodniej choć doskonale wiedziałam że muszę zachować powagę i okiełznać swój bezpośredni temperament.
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[Francesco_maria]

As the sun spread majestically over Rome, my arrival in the Eternal City, Cardinal Sforza reached the Roman Museums. With a leisurely pace, accompanied by a few close associates, he entered the Museums, a place that has always held the memory of centuries of history, art, and faith.

The atmosphere was charged with sacred anticipation. Despite the influx of guests and the typical rush of inaugurations, a moment that celebrates the past and simultaneously opens a window to the future.

Heading toward the main hall, the italian cardinal couldn't help but pause every now and then to admire the works adorning the walls. Each precious work of art seemed to tell a story of toil, light, hope, and faith. Cardinal Sforza was a man without vices, neither in food nor drink, but over the years and his extensive travels had allowed him to amass and expand his collections of ancient books and works of art, particularly statues, which he kept in his Roman palace.

The inauguration of the new collection was an extraordinary tribute to the greatness of our civilization and, in particular, to the central role of the city of Rome, not only as the heart of the Faith but also as a cultural center. At that moment, as the voices of the people mingled, he felt a pang of pride. Not only for the role entrusted to him, but for the opportunity he was given to witness an event that unites past and present in an embrace of beauty and sacredness.

He gladly greeted the friends present: his eminent brother Cardinal Kalixstus, the Prefect of the Museums, Mgr. Ferecide, and Fathers Wedzimir and Julian. He then greeted the other prelates and nobles present.
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