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It was raining. Xennik sighed and watched it pour outside the large cafeteria (excuse me, lunchroom) windows. He mindlessly stirred his soup with his spoon. The rain always made him feel relaxed, yet alive and excited at the same time. It made him want to get up, get out, and dance and sing in the storm. He wanted to feel the rain on his skin. This was not good. Because he simply couldn't get up, couldn't get out, and for the life of him, could no longer dance or sing...or feel. That just depressed him even more.

He slid into self-pity mode. He wanted to cry, but that was pointless. His tears would do nothing. They wouldn't heal wounds, just tear them open again. They couldn't turn back time, he'd tried and failed. There was no turning back. And there was no use crying. It would help nothing.

Xennik remembered a saying his mother used to say; "Stop crying over spilled milk.". He had often found himself repeating her. Now he thought that that was the stupidest thing he had ever heard. Just move on, as if nothing happened? But what if there was no moving on? What if someone you loved slipped on that spilled milk and broke their neck and became paralyzed for life? It seemed far out, but so did getting caught in a rockslide in the middle of nowhere chasing after the girl you were supposed to be bodyguarding. You could feel guilty for life over something like ruining a life with spilled milk.

He wondered if Keegan felt guilty about what had happened to him. Oh, please, don't let her think it's her fault. But it should be, shouldn't it? She had gone out there, knowing that he would have to follow her. There had to be someone to blame this all on. But there wasn't. There was only himself and his stupid mistakes.

Some soup sloshed out of his bowl. He forced himself to slow his stirring. He felt defeated and deflated.

"Pyuuu?" Regen could not pronounce 'Xennik" and didn't even try anymore, so he had been unofficially renamed Pyu. The little Wehtkin perched on the table beside him, staring up at him with large eyes.

Xennik didn't even look up. "Hmmm?" he asked, numbly stirring the now-cold soup. He felt something touch his hand and looked down to inspect it. A flower, still wet from the rain.

April showers bring May flowers.

Xennik had told his Wethkin the poem only that morning, when she had had a sudden fit of jealousy that she had not been born a Sunshine Wethkin, to make her proud of who she was.

He picked up the flower and held it to his cheek. And smiled. For the first time in days he made the effort to stretch his emotionless face into a smile, and Regen was overjoyed.

The flower was still wet, and a bit of rain water trickled down his cheek, like a tear. Maybe he had been wrong. Maybe, Xennik thought, maybe tears do heal.

Xennik slumped into his room with exhaustion written across his face. He stripped off his sweaty long-sleeved shirt and exchanged it for a cooler muscle shirt, then collapsed onto his bed.

"Tyre?" Regen asked sympathetically.

"What?" Xennik''s eyes popped open.

"Whut?"

Startled, he stared up at Regen.

Regen smiled and repeated herself. "Whut? Whut, whut?"

"Y-you can speak..?" Xennik sat up, rubbed his brow, and inspected Regen with interest. Regen, proud that she had his full attention, continued to show off all that Dessin had taught her in their long hours alone together.

"Yesh!" she squealed, delighted.

"Wow..." her guardian murmurred under his breath.

"WooooOOOOOooooowww," Regen mimicked.

Xennik chuckled.

"Whut? Whut, whut, whut?"

"'Whut' what?" he asked her.

She burst into high-pitched giggles, and after a moment, Xennik joined in, shaking his head bemusedly. It was now or never, she decided, to put her plan into action.

"Whut?" she asked, leaping to the floor and disappearing under the bed.

"Regen!" Xennik cried, climbing out of his bed and kneeling beside it, lifting the covers so he could peer underneath.

"Whut tis?" Regen chirped, sitting on a rather large black box, dusty for how long it had been under the bed untouched. Xennik''s eyes grew sad, and Regen wondered for a moment if she had gone too far.

"That's my bassoon," he murmurred, cupping her gently in one hand and pulling the black box out by the handle with the other.

"Whut?" Regen asked.

"A bassoon," he explained, "an instrument." He shuffled on his knees to his dresser, deposited her on top, and opened the top drawer. After a moment, he dug out a small metal key. Returning to the ''bassoon'', as Xennik called it, he bent over it and flipped the three locks open. He opened it to reveal a red-wooded collection of pieces of something, all resting in a blue velvet interior. He moved aside to let her see.

"Whut?" she asked, perplexed.

"It''s an instrument. If you play it correctly, it makes music."

"myoooozziik?"

"Yes," he replied, laughing. "Here, I'll show you. I haven't played this thing...in years..." She watched, fascinated, as he put the pieces together to form an ''instrument.'' First, he took the thickest of the pieces, this one with a metal bottom, and held it metal-bottom-down, so that two holes in the opposite end pointed toward the ceiling. Then he grabbed a long, thin piece and stuck one end of it into the smaller of the two holes. After doing this, he selected a longer, slightly thicker piece and placed this one into the bigger whole, adjusting the two pieces so that their holes and buttons were aligned, then he clicked something on the top of the thicker, longer piece, and a small metal rod attached the two long pieces together. He then grabbed the final wooden piece, a mediumly thick, almost bell-shaped piece, and screwed it onto the top of the larger center piece. To the smaller one, he attached a small, thin metal tube, oddly shaped, and adjusted it so that it was pointing towards him. To the end of this, he added a small triangular-shaped, wooden piece. A peculiarly shaped black peice, about the size of Xennik''s palm, went into the sid of the base piece. Finally, Xennik unraveled a long, smooth strip of leather and clicked it to the metal bottom of the first piece.

Hefting himself to his feet, Xennik placed a piece of paper with words across the top of it, and lines and dots along the rest of it, on the dresser beside Regen. The he sat down, placing the strip of leather on the seat beneath him, so the bassoon was balanced to his right. Glancing down at the paper, he leaned the bassoon across his lap, and put his mouth on the small tringular piece of wood. He positioned his fingers on the keys and holes so that his elbows jutted out. His feet were placed flat on the floor, slightly spread out, and he tapped his left heel against the floor, creating a steady beat.

At first, the deep, rumbling sound that nearly shook the room frightened Regen. She cried out in fear, then burst into firghtened tears. Xennik stopped playing and smiled reassuringly, saying, "What I'm doing is called ''Warming Up''. I'm playing Scales. It's not that pretty, but it means that I'm getting ready to play the nice music. But first, I have to prepare myself. Understand?"

"Huummmn....vhut?"

"This part is called a ''reed''. This is a 'bocal'."

"Doh? Boke?"

Xennik smiled, and, putting his mouth back on the reed, began to play a different tune. Regen liked this one much more than Scales. It was gentle and mournful, yet powerful and moving. She also liked the expression on Xennik''s usually melancholy and thoughtful face. He looked blissfully happy, as his fingers moved up and down the instrument, sometimes pressing keys, and other times covering holes, each movement altering the sound ever-so-slightly. As she listened, he realized that he was repeating an earlier part of the music. Recognizing it, she began to sing along, adding her high, tenor voice nicely to the deep mournful hum of the bassoon. She wished that she knew the words.

When he had finished the song, ending with a long, drawn out note, he sat back and sighed, looking at the bassoon appreciatively.

"Whut sez?" she asked him when he was done, gesturing toward the sheet of paper beside her.

"The music?"

"Yesh."

"It's called ''My Heart Will Go On.'' The lines and the notes tell me what to play. It's called reading music."

"Oh. Werds?"

"The words to the song? Man, you're intelligent. Where'd you learn all of this?" He asked her, bemusedly amazed.

"De...Dessh."

Xennik raised his eyebrows, but didn''t question her any further. Instead, he changed the subject back to what it had been originally, saying, "The words to the song are; ''Every night in my....'' Hear, I''ll sing it. Excuse my bad voice." he chuckled, and after a moment, began to sing the haunting tune



Regen didn''t understand why he had warned her about his voice. He sang pretty well. Actually, he sang better than he spoke. Regen thought this was pretty funny.

Xennik smiled at her. After a moment of comfortable silence, he asked, "Can you say my name?"

"Byo?"

His smile deepened. "Try it. Xennik."

"Zzzzsshhhhhheeeeeeeee.....?"

"Good." he prompted.

"Zzzssshhhheennnnn..."

Auri was bored. So bored in fact she was willing to get over her natural shyness and go visit someone, but who? She hadn't seen Pales in ages, subject to her sudden trip back to her home world and then back to Gaia, man that was weird. Cira was sitting on her shoulder, seeming to bounce to some music that Auri had playing in the background. It was cute, and sweet, but they were both bored and Cira needed to get out and see other Wethkin.

Auri moved to her computer, fingers flying quickly over the keys as she looked up the database of the Wethkins and their owners, and her eyes fell over on Xennik Diagon and his Wethkin Regen. Her eyes frowned when she realized he was in a rehabilitation center, and was about to pass him up when she realized he and Regen must not get out much to see others. Well, if she was going to visit someone, might as well be someone who needs to be visited, right?

Her grey eyes drifted over to Cira and she smiled at her warm. "Would you like to go see another Wethkin, sweetheart?"

"Itaa!" Cira cried happily as she bounced again in the air. Auri never could figure out why she picked up the Japanese word for "ow", but it didn't really matter. Quickly she moved over to her dresser and gently removed a small wooden box from it, opened it, and removed a small brown and white feather. She took a piece of string and tied it to her bra, and then looked at Cira. "Now remember, follow me closely and don't go flying off anywhere alright? I'll fly low and slow for you."

"Ita!"

Auri smiled before she closed her eyes and concentrated, and within a few moments a tiny elf owl and a ping pong sized sunshine wethkin were on their way to see Xennik and Regen

It took Auri a few moments to figure out which window was Xennik's when she reached the center, but finally she and Cira landed on the sill outside Xennik's room just as he collapsed on the bed. She tilted her head curiously as she watched him with her large, owl eyes. It seemed like he was in pain, and she started to consider turning back and leaving him to rest until Cira suddenly cried out at the sight of another Wethkin.

"ITTAAA!" She cried, and nearly startled Auri off the window. She hooted at her disapprovingly, worried that she would attracted unwanted attention.



Regen had moved toward Xennik to comfort him. He was obviously having a bad day.

The Legion of Horrors, was, for once, having a quiet day. They had spent the whole previous day playing the Spritkin version of tag out in the yard, and the excersize had finally caught up to them.

Xennik didn't feel any better when he heard a sound by the window and saw a bright light and an owl, out in the daytime. He groaned, covering his face with his hands. "Now I'm going crazy." He mumbled.



Auri grimaced lightly at Cira and she sighed, shaking her head. (I'm going to take some liberties here and assume he's got a really big windowsill XD) The next time Xennik would look at the window he would see a woman instead of an owl, short but well proportioned, with silver eyes and brown/white/black hair patterned after the elf owl's. Her hands were cupped around Cira whom she was scolding lightly for being so loud, but still petting her reassuringly as if to make sure Cira knew she still loved her.

Finally her eyes moved back to Xennik and she grimaced in a sort of apologizing way.
"May we come in, or would you prefer to be left alone?"
"Ita!"



Now Xennik was sure he was going crazy. Now he was seeing an angel. Well, she sure looked like an angel, cupping the sun in her hands, small, petite, and attractive. Xennik rubbed his forehead and sat up, leaning on his elbows, one leg hanging over the side of the bed, the other cocked up.

He wasn't even startled to hear her talk. After meeting Avenorell and waking up to find the seven Spritkin in his bed, he wondered if he'd ever be surprised again.

"I...I guess you should come in." He paused, thoughtful, then continued, "W-would it be horribly insulting if I asked who you are, or should I already know?"

She shook his hand firmly, but gently before releasing. She stood there, feeling a little awkward as her arms wrapped around her waist, trying to figure out something to do with her hands, damn her shyness. "I can't even imagine. Still, I guess it must be nice to have so many friends around you in a pla.." She stopped herself and grimaced lightly, glancing down at the ground and rubbing her arms. "Well. It must be nice to have so many little ones to love and love you in return."

Cira was happily bouncing excitedly around Regen, as hyperactive as she is it was amazing her own thoughts could keep up with her. "Ita!"




Regen burbled happily.

Xennik swallowed again, aware of how awkward the scene was. How to keep the conversation alive? Talk about her. People liked to talk about themselves. As awkward as the situation was, he really appreciated the company. He hated the idea of scaring her off with his lack of communicative skills. "So...you...you're a shapeshifter..?" He asked.



She glanced over to him quietly, smiling a little weakly as she nodded her head. "Yeah. I don't usually show that to others but, I think I've gotten alot more confidant with what I can do. I'm still a little scared sometimes that someone'll try to capture me and use me for some kind of freak show though. I didn't worry about that with you, If you're the guardian of one of these gentle creatures then you must be pretty cool, right?" She smiled at him, fingers brushing unconciously at her arms, trying to massage the soreness from flying out.

She didn't know what to ask him, afraid she might offend him by asking why he's in such an awful place. "So.. how long have you had Regen?" It was the only thing she could think of.



Xennik felt a blush creep up his face. She thought he was cool! He felt special and important because he knew something about her that not many people did. And she thought he was cool! He could sympathize with her, as well, on the whole 'freak' subject. He was practically the walking definition for 'freak'.

He looked at the two chattering Wethkin, trying to hide the blush from his visitor. He was grateful when she asked him a question.

"Regen's been with me for several months. Nearly half a year, now. She more of adopted me, than I adopting her. And teh Spritkin came last Valentine's Day. All of them just appeared on my bed with this mountain of candy and cookies." He chuckled, and finally moved his gaze back to his visitor.