When Reggie and Adam returned to the guild headquarters late that evening, the guild hall was quiet. They found Valis in the front room, sitting alone with his shoulders bowed slightly, lost in thought. He held a bottle of whiskey in one hand and an empty glass in the other, ready to pour himself another round.

Reggie froze in the doorway, shoulders tense, as though bracing for the reprimand he knew he deserved. The only thing keeping him from bolting again was Adam standing quietly behind him.

But Valis didn't raise his voice. He didn't even look angry, but relieved instead.

"Does anyone want a drink?" he asked with a calm tone.

Neither of them replied. Reggie gave the smallest shake of his head, barely noticeable.
"Please, sit down," Valis said at last, nodding toward the couch. "You must be tired." He watched the boy’s hesitation, the nervous way Reggie’s fingers clenched the edge of his sleeve.

Adam understood the cue. His gaze met Reggie's; a faint, reassuring smile flickered across his face before he turned around and left them alone to talk.

"I'm sorry," Reggie whispered once the door closed behind Adam. He sat down stiffly, with his hands clasped between his knees.

"There's nothing to apologize for," Valis replied, with his voice low and even. "I just want to make sure you are all right."

"I am not," the boy admitted after a moment. "I'm afraid I'll only cause you trouble."

"I can assure you that's impossible," Valis said firmly. "Where were you hiding? With family?"

"No. I don't have family anymore." Reggie shook his head.

"But Sir Valis, I'm no freeloader, not me. I'm not afraid of hard work," he added quickly, with confidence. "My grandmother and I once ran a little shoemaker's shop. I could work from dawn till dusk, even as a child. We weren't thieves or beggars, no matter what people say. She was a good woman and raised me well. I just... Panicked when I saw someone I didn't want to see."

"It's ok, please calm down," Valis tried to ease his mind and suddenly remembered the small package he had hidden in his office.

"Speaking of shoes... Wait here, I have something for you to reward you for your hard work," he said, rising to his feet.
Val wasn't sure when he had started to care about this strange young man; perhaps he saw his struggles and could relate to them in some way.

When he returned, he handed Reggie the wrapped parcel. The boy stared at it, uncertain, before carefully peeling away the paper. Inside was a pair of beautifully crafted leather boots. They looked as though they'd been made with care; deep brown in color, polished to a soft sheen, and with stitching so fine it seemed spun from silk. The soles were sturdy, built to carry him for many years to come.

He realized Valis must have seen him looking at them back then, at the parade.

Tears welled in Reggie's eyes.

"I wasn't sure about the size," Valis said quietly. "But looking at your old pair, they should fit well enough." He congratulated himself silently, pleased that the gift had the desired effect.

"That won't be a problem," Reggie murmured, still staring at the worn brown shoes. His fingers hovered over the laces, shoulders stiffening slightly. For a moment, Valis wondered if the boy was embarrassed by the old boots; the frayed leather and uneven seams. Then Reggie exhaled and began to unlace them. Eventually, he slipped his faded, worn boots off.

Valis froze with the words caught in his throat.
Reggie's bare feet were mutilated, both missing every toe. His old shoes had been padded at the front with shaped inserts. The sight rooted him in place.

"Who..." Valis began, but Reggie interrupted before he could finish.

"Who else?" he said with a hollow laugh.
"The Finger Cutters Gang, of course." He spoke as if it were something long accepted, sliding the inserts neatly into the new boots. "They're so beautiful," the young man whispered, blinking rapidly. "I've never had anything this fine. My grandmother... She used to say you could tell a man's soul by the way he treated his shoes."

But Valis didn't hear him anymore. His fingers tightened around his glass until his knuckles went white. Anger burned through him. Memories he thought he'd buried came right back into his mind.

This wasn't just about his own revenge. Not anymore.

"I know what you're thinking," Reggie said softly, with his voice trembling slightly. "My grandmother tried to keep the business alive, but things just went bad. It wasn't her fault. She borrowed money from loan sharks; however, it was the kind who don't forgive... The interest was impossible. To make her pay, they took me instead and said I was collateral..."

He swallowed before continuing. "They sent her one of my toes every week. A package at her door, every seven days. When the money stopped coming, they sent the last four all at once." His voice cracked. "I think... I think that broke her. When I escaped, I found her behind the shop counter, eyes open, staring at nothing."

Heavy silence fell between them.

"Since then," Reggie said at last, "I've been hiding. Always waiting for them to finish what they started. You know... Debts don't just go away."

He looked up, eyes glistening. "But now I'm afraid... they'll come for you instead, Sir Valis."

Valis exhaled slowly. When he finally spoke, his voice was calm.

"Let them come," he said. "We will be ready. But... Can I ask... How did you endure?"

"This all... In two simple steps." Reggie looked Valis straight in the eye. "The first one was acceptance. I had to accept that it had happened, acknowledge the present and understand that I couldn't forget or rewrite the past, no matter how hard I tried. That made it easier to take the second step: adaptation. I had to change my ways, just put one foot in front of the other, to live. To learn how to walk again; literally and metaphorically." He relaxed his posture a little. "This is why you don't have to do this all for me," Reggie said softly. "I'll manage somehow."

Valis seemed to ponder Reggie's words for a long moment. 'Can I, too, accept what has happened to me? Embrace this new reality?'
The answer came instantly. 'No. Never. I will not resign, nor will I let go.'

How much could he truly trust the boy? Would he not betray him someday, just like all the others?

At last, Valis made his decision. He set his glass down on the table with a quiet, final thud.

"It's not just for you," he said.
"It's for us."

Slowly, he rolled up his sleeve, and his scarred flesh glistened in the lamplight. When he set his hand on the table, the old marks matched Reggie’s burn scars on his hand like a silent acknowledgment.

For a moment, the room was quiet. In that small gesture, Reggie understood; no words were needed. They both carried the same hardships, the same scars, the same weight of survival.

"You too? But… how?" Reggie asked hesitantly, not realizing a few tears had slipped from his eyes.

Valis gave a faint smile. "That's a story for another night. It's late. We should get some rest."

Reggie wiped at his cheeks, looking embarrassed. "Yeah… I guess we do." Then stood up slowly, tugging his new boots on.

Valis stayed where he was, staring at the table for a moment. He leaned back in his chair, letting out a slow breath. For the first time in a long while, he didn’t feel quite so alone.