L'Eglise Aristotelicienne Romaine The Roman and Aristotelic Church

[Cinead]

The basilica breathed—stone and incense and the low burn of a thousand prayers. Kalixtus’ summons unfurled through nave and transept like a dark tide.

“Cinead of Twynholm… I summon you before the Throne of Titus.”

He rose. A simple Scotsman in a sea of scarlet and gold, he smoothed the edge of his black mozzetta with a workman’s care, drew one steady breath, and stepped into the aisle. The floor beneath him held the history of Rome; his boots remembered peat and rain. He bowed toward the High Altar, then toward the Holy Father, and moved forward with the measured pace that years of service had taught him: nothing hurried where eternity was near.

“Adsum.”

The light from the oculus found the incense and made a river of it. He passed between its bright currents until the throne of Sixtus stood before him. There he knelt, right knee to marble, head bowed, hands joined.
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Chartulary of the British Islands, Bishop of Whithorn, Archivist for the Registers, Translator at Order of Saint Jerome, Theologian at the Holy Office 🏴󠁧󠁢󠁳󠁣󠁴󠁿