"A long time ago, there was a child. A hard girl, born in harder times. Her family was poor, and she grew and learned from the streets.
One day, she got into a fight and nearly died, but a kind samaritan found her and nursed her back to health. He had no name — or never told her, anyway — but he didn't save her for nothing. In exchange for her life, she would work for him.
Thus, the child grew into a young woman, given muscle, and fangs, and claws by her savior before being put to use. Once she was strong enough, she started taking on contracts, putting old, corrupt politicians and powerful men into their final rest.
She worked for a decade before she paid off her debt. She buried her knives and her robes and tried to live a normal, calm life.
It was hard. She had never been so calm before. Her life had been contract after contract, no time for peace.
It was unnerving.
But then someone found her and picked her up once again. Chris. He was a kind man, and for the first time in all her life, Annabella felt her name was important.
The two of them lived a sweet life, so much so that Annabella nearly forgot her past, but the war ended those thoughts.
Her sons — her bright, beautiful sons — were set to be drafted into the war. So she made a choice, one she would come to regret.
She picked up her robes once again and called the Nameless Man. He told her to do a job for him, one last job, and he'd make sure her kids were safe.
So Annabella did so. She picked up her blades and added one more tally to her card, but she was injured in the process — took a blade to the gut.
For many months she rotted in a hospital, recovering from a coma, and she only learned the truth when she left, for her husband didn't have the heart to tell her while she healed.
…
The blood shed that day permanently stained the streets; even now the cobble keeps its rusty hue.
By morning, all were dead. The Nameless Man was no more. His children were no more. His kin were no more.
That day, she was dubbed the Ponti — a vengeful spirit who sought the destruction of her sons' killers. And that is just what she got.
Her husband, the stout man that he was, claimed all that had once been the Man's and made it theirs. Thus, the Vespers were born, and not long after, they and all their kin were called the Ponties.
Masters of blades, avengers of men."
The speaker, a young woman with kind eyes finished the story and leaned over to kiss her boy on the forehead.
Young Arthur, the boy, complained. "Momma, I've heard that story thousands of times already!"
Mary laughed, looking at her son with mirth in her eyes. "I doubt you've heard thousands of anything Art."
"Hmm, stop calling me that!"
"Haha! I'll call my son whatever I want to- Stinkbutt!"
"Hey!..."
The scene changed abruptly. Suddenly little Arthur had grown, and he was staring at the limp form of his younger brother, blood pooling beneath his head. He could hear someone yelling for him, but he was too shocked to register it.
But it grew louder, more insistent.
"-ey!"
"hey!"
"HEY!"
Arthur sucked in a breath of chilled air, surging upright and free from his restless sleep. His brow was soaked in sweat, like the rest of him.
Auntie Sera stood over him, her stern face contorted into her own version of worry. She let him breathe before speaking. "...Bathe and get dressed lad."
Sera pulled him to his feet, and Arthur shook the fog from his muddled mind. "Why?" He croaked. "You never make me wake this early."
He glanced out of the window and just as he thought, dawn had yet to break the sky. He turned back to Seph and froze. There was something in her eye that stood out to his subconscious.
Seraphine Vesper had always been a very serious and controlling woman, and though he and his siblings never failed to complained, they knew that she only ever meant to protect them. Sera had never failed to be serious and somehow always angry.
But right now, she looked...sad?
Arthur's mind cleared rapidly as adrenaline hit his system. "What happened?"
For once, the strong and mighty Seraphine couldn't meet his gaze, here eyes remaining glued to his feet and her mouth drawn into a tense line.
Arthur stopped himself from prying further. He knew that if he did she would break, and they both couldn't stand to let that happen, so he slowly nodded. "Okay...Should I dress for an occasion?"
Sera nodded solemnly and slid from his room without another word, leaving the young Vesper heir to prepare.
He went about getting ready, taking not more than ten minutes before he was out of his room, and what he saw in the main room of the house confirmed his fears.
The whole family had arrived. Aunt Seraphine, Uncle Garrick, cousins Lysa, Bram, and Corrin, and even Talia. Rowan Pike had arrived, his usual grin absent. Juno Marrek and Silas Crane had arrived as well. But one person was missing.
His Father.
Uncle Garrick stepped forward and held Arthur in a tight hug as the tears started forming, hiding the young man's face from the family as they started to drip down his cheeks. "What happened?" He asked desperately.
Uncle Garrick took a stabilizing breath, then spoke as evenly as he could, but Arthur could hear the bottomless rage hidden underneath. "...The Caldera's broke the treaty."
He let his voice carry to the rest of the family, knowing that some of them had also yet to be informed. "They planned to steal the goods from all across the city. Every dock, every safehouse shared by the council, all of it."
Arthur knew about the council, everyone did. It was a group made of every not so legal business and family in the city, all under a peace treaty to work together and make more money. They had their hands in all kinds of business, whether it be the military to the pharmacy, everything.
And the Caldera's sought to take it all.
"Luckily, your father saw the truth before they could fuck us all, but they took revenge. He'd foiled their grand plan...so they slaughtered him.
...Then before anyone could catch wind of what they'd done, they took what they could and ran for the front."
Arthur's world collapsed, and he shut his eyes tight. He knew that this day would come one way or another, but to truly have it happen...
Garrick felt the boy grow still in his arms suddenly. The shaking stopped, and he pushed away slightly, wiping his face, his voice cold as ice. "Do we know what they took?"
The older man felt deeply sad to see Arthur have to go through such a change, but answered nevertheless. "...Mostly military goods, not much of our things. But the other families had quite a lot of their goods taken."
Arthur nodded. "...Have all our men gather everything and bring it to the Lock. Post triple the usual guards at all times with at least one stage 3 present at all times."
Arthur looked to his younger brother Elias, who was staring into his soul, and nodded towards him and his sister Mera. "Gear up. We're going on a walk."
He stepped back into his room, closing the door behind him and leaving the family to stare at the place he had been just a moment before.
At the ripe age of eighteen years old, Arthur Vesper had inherited the Ponties.