Note on additions:

This story is a chronological slow burn which covers a rather long, and incredibly eventful, period of Ankh-Morpork history. And that means that on occasion I find bits of lore that really need to be referenced for a variety of reasons. As of this time, this includes:
-New Ch. 5: The attack on Ankh-Morpork in Sourcery
-Upcoming new Ch. 10: A canonical blurb about his first confirmed, rather than speculative, kills

I'll update this list if there are any other insertions or major revisions, though I'm hoping this is about it.

Enjoy!

When he was led into the head office, the boy was still wet from the bath he'd been given. He quickly took the biggest armchair he could find and, somehow, seemed to become even smaller as he kicked his heels against the leather and rubbed at his eye.

It was a tragedy, to be sure.

They were a young couple with an exceptional knack for creating weaponry which was lightweight, but strong and reliable. It was of such high quality that their stock had become a standard for any guild member who could afford them. Knives so good that they didn't even need to be marked, and often weren't as Assassins loved to have something that was wordlessly known.

It was soon discovered that they had been young parents, as well, who'd left behind a child found splattered and caked in blood. It was quickly agreed that he should be granted a scholarship, in honor of such exceptional weaponry... and in memoriam of people who they were sure were lovely. They'd come to this conclusion before anyone with the power to decide had even seen the child. Many didn't even know the surname of the parents as, up until that point, they'd mostly been known by their shop if they were named at all.

Now, with him in the office, several looks was exchanged.

He couldn't have been older than five, less than half the age of the youngest students the guild normally took in. And he was increasingly looking the part as his hair dried and framed a cherubically round face with golden curls. Picture of childhood innocence, really, which made it such a shame that the whole effect was ruined by one eye that had far too small a pupil, and another that was heavily bruised from its recent replacement with what seemed to be a glass marble.

The group of hardened assassins shifted uncomfortably as the boy looked at them with curious expectancy.

"I'm sorry about your parents," Dr Cruces finally said.

"It was an accident," the boy replied. His voice was sweet and soft, but the tone seemed a bit too jovial considering the circumstances. But, then, few of them had much experience with young children so that might just have been how a five year old was.

"Yes, tragic one... Did it cause your eye...?"

"It was an accident," He repeated, more insistently.

"Ah... well, also tragic." Cruces figured he'd ask again later when the trauma had faded and this strange feeling wasn't so strong. For now, he just walked across the room. "Well, you don't need to worry. We've agreed to take you in." He placed a comforting hand on his shoulder. "You'll receive a world class education. Your parents would be honored I'm sure."

The boy smiled in an awkward way that looked like it was trying its best to be quite genuine. It was hard to tell which eye was more responsible for making the whole effect worse. "Thank you, sir. I'll do my best."

"I'm sure you will, Mr..." He took a quick look at the stamped application. "Jonathan."

The boy gave another smile Cruces certainly hoped that he would grow into, and hopped down from the chair. He took the waiting hand of the matron and, with another rub of his new part, was quickly led off.

The assassins exchanged a look with one another that said they were nowhere near as certain of their decision, but had to acknowledge that it had already been made. If nothing else, there was a sense of gentlemanly duty to taking the child of such valuable partners as the... Teatime's? Was that honestly the surname, or had someone been distracted by the kettle?

They only thing they definitely all agreed on was that a doctor should probably take a look at his eye (it was up for debate which one was more urgent), and that they felt the immediate need to shower before the charity-granting ceremony.