As one of Tyre's great noble houses, Kalin Wilsonna had long been a respected count. His ancestors had been heroic knights who won glorious victories for the Imperium, so their family's fief had been placed in the finest part of the New Colony: what was now Tyre and its surrounding lands.
At their peak, the family owned property across dozens of city blocks, a merchant guild, a fishing harbor, three mines, more than a dozen farms, vast stretches of farmland, and Tyre's oldest and most luxurious villa district.
By the time it reached Kalin Wilsonna's hands, their assets had diminished somewhat, but they were still one of Tyre's foremost great families. He had even served two terms as speaker of the city council and enjoyed considerable influence in political, military, and business circles.
Back then, the Wilsonna Family had been so glorious and splendid.
But from some point, in some place, things changed.
Kalin was not sure where that change had begun. The fall of Aswan? Or the fall of Tyre?
He had once been regarded as the wisest and most cunning noble in the entire city, but the times had changed.
When the first bomb fell into his villa, he found himself missing that stubborn general—the one he had mocked as a country bumpkin and a mudfoot, General Yushikin, who did not even know how to gamble with cups.
If he had not caused trouble for him in logistics out of arrogance back then, would Tyre still be as impregnable as ever?
But there was no turning back.
"...It embraces us and guides us..."
Quasimodo continued his lengthy sermon. Kalin shook out his black acolyte's robe and turned his attention back to him.
Hunched and gaunt, Quasimodo wore the priestly robes of a low-ranking Kaimon Church clergyman, marking his