L'Eglise Aristotelicienne Romaine The Roman and Aristotelic Church

[Zederikus]

Zederikus kneels down in front of the altar in humility and says a quick prayer silently.
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[Francesco_maria]

Addressing the bridegroom, the prelate solemnly asked to the groom:

"Do you accept to take, here present, Aliénor as your legitimate wife according to the rite of the Holy Mother Church?"
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[Zederikus]

The groom answers: I, Zederikus Visegrády of the Fellegvári House, take thee, Aliénor de Lancastre, as my wife, and I promise to take care of thee from this day forward, in health and sickness, in wealth and poverty, to look after thee and love thee, until death do us part, according to the will of the Most High.
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[Alienor_faiza]

The bells and tributes to the Lord rang between the pious walls of the building, letting the cold stone warm up under the effect of the communion of the faithful. Dressed in her royal ermine, both ghost and angel, the young sovereign had walled herself up in a heavy silence to let the service do its full work. The forehead lowered towards the ground, caressed by the long veils which covered the head and the shoulders of this island queen, she murmured in answer to the prelate. When her fiancé showed devotion and submission to their Creator, she acted in concert, her delicate knees coming to kiss the ground without any vanity. Facing Cardinal Sforza, her hands joined in unison, a fiery glow emanating from the ring on her slender finger.

The King of Hungary spoke the long-awaited words and she felt her heart clench. On the one hand, because the moment was solemn and she was about to offer her hand, and thus her life, to a man. On the other hand, because this ceremony was not alien to her feelings and when she heard him promise to God to take her as his wife, she knew that finally it would be him and no other. A love engulfed by duty but as solid as a rock, bearing the pressure of the jewels of two crowns but never wavering.

She too, when the prelate deemed it appropriate, would turn to Him to unite under His benevolent gaze.

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[Francesco_maria]

And then, standing in front of the bride he asks:

"Do you accept to take, here present, Zederikus as your legitimate husband according to the rite of the Holy Mother Church?"
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[Alienor_faiza]

Her eyelids closed on the world to open her gaze to another and she answered the Cardinal as a breeze stirred the sails that rolled down on her graceful figure : I, Aliénor de Lancastre Cognin Franchesse von Waldershut, take thee, Zederikus Visegrády of the Fellegvári House, as my husband, and I promise to take care of thee from this day forward, in health and sickness, in wealth and poverty, to look after thee and love thee, until death do us part, according to the will of the Most High.

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[Francesco_maria]

The public declarations of the spouses are welcomed. A richly dressed young page brought the wedding rings on a white cushion embroidered with gold and presented them to the newlyweds.

Then continuing with the rite he said:

"Dear spouses, give yourselves your right hand" then he pronounced the sacred words:

"I join you in Marriage, in the Name of the Most High and His Holy Church."

And immediately he blesses the rings, saying:

"Lord, hear my prayer."

"And my cry reaches Thee." replied the faithful.

Then he went on:

"Let us pray
Bl + ess, O Lord, these rings, in Thy Name: so that those who will wear them, may keep intact their fidelity to their spouse, may they remain in Thy peace and in Thy will, and always live in mutual charity. Thou who livest and reignest forever and ever. Amen"

So the Cardinal sprinkles the rings with holy water and said:

"Now exchange these blessed rings, a sign of your union before God and of your love"
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[Zederikus]

Hearing the words from his soon-to-be wife has been moving to levels where he had never been, trying to seem calm when emotions are running so high. Everything seems really intense, but then it is his time to exchange the rings, and touching the hand of his beloved calms all nerves.

Zederikus takes the right ring from the cushion with the blessing of Cardinal Francesco, kisses it, and places it onto the ring finger of his beloved Alienor.

-With this ring I marry thee and with my body, I will honour thee and I will give thee all my goods.
For the love of the Most High, of the Prophets, and of the Saints.-
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[Alienor_faiza]

Surrounded by all this grace and beauty, this wealth of faith and love, the young woman laid a delicate eye on this young page who braved the altar like an angel. Her porcelain right hand reached out to the King of Hungary with unwavering confidence. There, at that very moment, they were uniting and nothing seemed to be able to disturb this moment.

Listening attentively to the Cardinal's sacred words, she then observed the rings of such pure gold that they shone on their cushion receiving the holy water. Her finger was adorned with the ultimate token of their love and union and she in turn slipped the ring from her slender fingers to her husband while looking into his clear eyes.


« With this ring I marry thee and with my body, I will honor thee and I will give thee all my goods.
For the love of the Most High, of the Prophets, and of the Saints. »

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[Francesco_maria]

The cardinal smiled at the bride and groom after the exchange of the rings took their hands, joined them and wrapped them in the stole he was wearing, then solemnly pronounced the formula:

"May no man dare to divide what God has united!"

Then he addressed his blessing to the assembly of those present at the conclusion of the rite:

"May the Lord be with you."

"And with thy spirit." those present replied.

"Let us pray
Look, we pray Thee, O Lord, for these children of Thine, and kindly assist Thy institutions; so that what has been joined by Thee, with Thy help, is preserved. Thou who livest and reignest forever and ever. Amen"

At the end of the prayer with his right hand he blessed those present and the choir began a solemn song while the bells began to ring in celebration for the newlyweds.
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[Francesco_maria]

----------------------------------⊰Baptism of Albano - 06.11.1470⊱

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In those days Cardinal Sforza was in Rome and reached his beloved titular basilica to celebrate the baptism of a young Portuguese faithful who had asked him to be baptized.

It was always a joy for him to welcome new children into the Aristotelian Community. The nuns had already prepared everything necessary for the rite and warmly welcomed the cardinal who blessed them, then he went to the sacristy accompanied by two clerics and wore the vestments waiting to begin the rite.
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[Siemen_van_Leeuwen]

The young man of 21 arrives at the Basilica of St. Adonia alle Terme quietly, almost hesitantly, as though the stone itself might take note of his footsteps. Morning light slips through the high arches and tall windows, pale and reverent. Incense hangs softly in the air. The space feels vast—too vast—and Siemen has to steady his breathing before he crosses fully inside.

He is dressed in a white robe that falls straight and unadorned to his ankles. It is simple, almost severe in its purity, and it makes him feel exposed in a way silk and velvet never have. The fabric brushes his wrists when he moves, cool and unfamiliar. Beneath it, hidden but not forgotten, rests his key pendant, warm against his chest—its weight grounding, familiar, a small promise that he is still himself.

His hands clasp and unclasp before him, fingers worrying the edge of his sleeve. His heart is racing. Too fast. He swallows, glancing around the area, searching for Cardinal Alessandro della Scala—the cardinal who will baptize him, who will speak the words that mark a beginning Siemen has waited for far longer than he ever admits. He also waits for Cardinal Kalixtus, whom he asked to be his godfather, as he no longer knows anyone else who fits the qualifications.
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Voormalig Schildknaap van Didicus Crescenzi. Imperial Count of Moers. Baron van Waterland.

[Kalixtus]

Kalixtus’ steps echoed across the marble of the basilica. He visited only a few of the other Roman basilicas, for he usually had more than enough to occupy himself in his own. Today, however, he was present in an official capacity as godfather, and so a carriage had conveyed him from his palazzo to this place.

As he moved through the sacred halls, his robes billowed around him, today cascading in a spectrum of reds. The hem alone was embroidered with golden ornaments, each reflecting a cosmological understanding of creation—visible, to be sure, only to those well-versed in such complex knowledge, the wise among the wise, who truly accessed boundless understanding.

Upon his chest rested a golden pectoral, which stood out brilliantly against the red of his vestments, itself a masterpiece of goldsmithing. It had been crafted in imitation of his cardinal’s ring, set with a striking ruby, and made exclusively for him. That pectoral he would wear even in his sarcophagus, when he one day was laid to rest. Such had been decreed.

As he passed among the rows of columns, his focus never wavered from the altar rising in the apse, illuminated by the diffused morning light. The frescoes and mosaics in this magnificent church rivaled those of any basilica he knew, including his own. They depicted the Aristotelian cosmos in all its splendid truth and integrity.

They told the story of the apostles of Adonia and their work for the unity of humankind. Models and beacons of faith. More still: idols of absolute sincerity.

His long, white hair was braided tightly in a French plait, reaching down to his waist. At the knot behind his head, a golden pin was set upright, displaying a silver lion amidst golden rays—the emblem of the White Lion of Eros.

With his ice-blue eyes, he noticed Siemen van Leeuwen, observing him in passing. As always when he regarded another, his gaze delved deep into the reality and presence of the soul. The cardinal possessed an indescribable passion for discerning the divine in creation. The soul, wrought by God Himself, was the purest, most immediate treasure to be guarded by mankind—a source of goodness, love, and mercy, the devotion owed to the Almighty Himself.

As he glided past Siemen, his focus shifted, and Kalixtus made the sign of the cross before the altar, kneeling to speak the words that always underpinned his work. Unwavering and absolute:

»Totus tibi sum, Domine: cor, corpus et voluntas mea sub tuo altari iacent. Amen.«

He rose with a measured grace, then bestowed upon Siemen one of his enigmatic smiles. As he approached, a nearly magical radiance seemed to materialize around him, as if time and space themselves bent around his gravitas, twisting the world into a kaleidoscope of manifold colors. Before him, the scent of Arabian incense, Damascene rose, cinnamon, black pepper, and a hint of nutmeg filled the space—a fragrance chosen with meticulous care for this encounter. Nothing in the cardinal’s world was left to chance; everything was deliberate, governed by an inner logic—inescapable.

»Salve, Siemen,« he said. His words were melodious, as if conjuring a daring, dark spell. A secret shared with the few. This was Kalixtus, and he knew that all of Siemen’s attention was now upon him. He absorbed the young man as smoke might be inhaled from a fine cigarette. In drawing him in, he consecrated him, altered him, and released him. Such was Kalixtus. His being, his nature, was simultaneously human, priest, guardian, and instrument of God.

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