After the situation outside stabilizing, Amelia takes a break inside. Before she can properly rest however, she sees Roan and Isis arguing at the dining table. "Hey, hey, what is going on? Why are you two arguing?"
Isis looks up at Amelia as she approaches. "You will not be able to help in this situation...unless you know anything about Draven politics."
"I am a quick learner." Amelia pulls up a seat to the table and waits for one of them to start speaking.
Isis sighs. "There are only twelve Wyvern royals at any time. They are each other's equals and fighting would only lead to mutually assured destruction. Instead, we argue and with no one to control us, the Draven split off into separate groups. Right now, our kind needs unity and the only one who can give that to us is Roan."
"No, I cannot."
Amelia turns her head and looks at Roan. He looks younger with his hair tied up and out of his face but his sour expression and dark circles under his eye are impossible to ignore. "Why not?" Amelia tries to sound as sympathetic as humanly possible.
"They will not listen to me, not after.... that."
"Then make them listen." Isis retorts.
"I cant even use my Regnum on you properly, how am I supposed to fight back twelve other Wyvern?" Roan asks her.
"Roan look," Isis drops the soothing tone of her voice. "I know you have your reasons not to, but you need to transform."
"If you don't mind me asking...when was the last time you shifted? A week, a month?" Amelia asks, placing her hands over his on the table.
"Years." Roan gulps. "It has been years..."
"Years! How are you still alive? How has your body not ripped itself apart?" Amelia chuckles nervously before unnecessarily clearing her throat.
"What I think the Lunari is trying to figure out is how you are doing it." Isis puts plainly, placing her hands into her lap.
"I don't know I just...keep it inside."
Amelia stands up and walks into the kitchen, digging around the cupboards until she finds one of the blue vials under the sink. She returns to her guest, dropping the item on the table in front of them. "This is wolfsbane. I use it on the Lycanthrope that come here that are struggling with their transformations." She goes on to explain. "It induces the transformation process in whoever drinks it. Your anatomy is vastly differently from one another, but you are, technically, a shifter. It should work."
Roan grabs the vial, but Amelia covers her hand over his before he can pick it up. "I must warn you that shifting, especially in the circumstances that you are facing, will hurt. The pain will be unimaginable, and the risk of fatality is high."
"Pain..." Roan nods his head slowly, his eyes unfocused as he stares at the table, finally coming to a decision. "...is the only thing that tells me I am still alive." Roan smiles. "I promise, no more crying. I have cried enough."
Their lives realign...