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Methodios looked at the outstretched hand, not knowing what to do. If he accepted to help, his whole life would change, he would be fighting again, and the worst was that he had a high chance of death. (Depending on what Solon's idea was) If he declined, he could continue living his normal life the way he wanted to. But would it be the right thing to do? Methodios slowly reached for the hand and, pushed it down.

Solon was surprised by this, "Does this mean you won't help me?" he asked.
Methodios stood up and responded, "I, can't decide right now, you put a lot of weight on my shoulders now and I need time to think it over."
Solon nodded and slowly stood up, "Very well, take all the time you need, but please let me know if you will help, I will be staying at the inn across the street."

And with that Solon walked between more tables and slipped out the door into the night. Methodios watched him go, and once he was gone he sat back down. What could he do? He didn't want Solon to fight alone, but he was developing a fear for battle. I won't get anything done if I think about it now, should rest for now. He thought to himself. And with that he too walked to the door, and stepped into the dark street once again, turned, and slowly walked towards his current home.

Methodios opened the door of his rented house and closed it behind him. There wasn't much to see inside, just a chair, desk, and in the next room a bed. He walked to the bed, took his shoes off, and fell onto the bed with a thud. He had been through a lot today, at least 10 jobs and now this, an offer to fight in a war. Methodios didn't ponder on the thought for very long, soon he was fast asleep.

During the night, Methodios was wakened by a loud crashing sound, and soon after a cry for help. Without thinking he grabbed his broadsword off the floor and bolted to the door. He ran so fast he nearly knocked the door of its hinges when he attempted to slow down, but didn't slow down soon enough. Rubbing his now bruised head, he opened the door and ran out into the night.

It was dark out, almost pitch black but there was still enough light for him to see. And what he saw, he wished he didn't. Blood. Lots of it, coming from the inn that Solon was staying at! With adrenaline pumped legs he dashed to the bashed in door to the inn and ran inside. He was unsure of which room Solon was in but that didn't stop him, he started bashing down doors, desperate to find his friend.

Methodios stopped outside a door, he was breathing hard but this door had a strange... aura coming from it. The rooms before this had the same smell of blood, but this room was where it was strongest. He hesitantly reached for the handle of the door, and slowly pulled it open. It was dark inside the room but what he saw nearly made him collapse in sadness. On the floor, was his best friend, Solon.

"Solon!" he shouted and raced into the room, pulling Solons head up so he could see his face. There were many cut marks across his entire body, and he was battered from head to toe. Tears were flowing from Methodios's like a waterfall, Solon was the last friend he had, all his other friends were killed in the war. "Oh Solon, I'm so sorry." He weaped. Then he noticed that there was a note Solon clutched in his dead hand. Methodios slowly reached for it and took it. He read over the note, stopping to wipe his eyes every so often. When he finished reading the note he looked down at Solons dead body and whispered, "Solon, I promise you, I will avenge your death." He was going to war with the empire.