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ONE
AXUR
Axur looked around his once-wonderfully-sterile home and let out a disgruntled huff. He was already growing anxious about the meeting scheduled to start momentarily. He’d been doing his best to put it in the back of his mind, but looking around his house was a constant reminder as to why he had to attend this meeting in the first place.
To the untrained eye, the house would appear clean and tidy, but to the military general, it looked like a crime scene.
“What is this?” he growled beneath his breath.
Axur bent over and snagged a misplaced stuffed animal. He looked at it with disdain before trudging to Ayla’s room, where it belonged.
The eight-year-old was in the bathroom finishing getting ready, so Axur tossed the toy haphazardly onto her bed where he noticed other things out of place. He flipped on the light and stared at the atrocity of his guest room.
Ayla had toys in her chairs and on her bed. What appeared to be art utensils were pooled in the corner of the floor. A twinkling light clashing against the beige drapes caught his eye as he scanned the room, making him cringe.
Let it go. It’s only been two days, and it’s not permanent. Everything will go back to normal soon,he told himself, forcing out a slow and cleansing exhale.
Axur turned to leave. A squeak erupted under his heel, causing him to jump and instinctively grab his side-arm. Before he pulled it, he saw a flash of pink under his boot.
“Ayla,” he called with a very practiced, calm tone.
He heard a toothbrush clinking in the sink, then the click of her shoes on the immaculately white floor.
“Yes?” A shy, lilac-skinned girl approached him, hiding her timid violet eyes and soft face behind her teal curls.
“Remember what I asked you?” Axur lifted his foot off of the toy that had almost caused him to draw his military-issued weapon.
Ayla looked down at it and bit her lower lip. She hastily bent down to pick it up.
“I’m sorry.”
She walked quickly into her room and placed the toy with her others. She was dressed in a deep purple that contrasted her own shades nicely. She was trying, and Axur knew that. He needed to try as well.
He forced a soft smile. “Thank you, Ayla.”
He knelt and beckoned her over. She stood, head down and arms crossed behind her back. Even though they were family, their interactions had always been awkward. Even more so now. Axur was used to death and being disconnected from things he wasn’t sure how to handle, like a young Luxenian female.
“Listen, I know it’s hard, and this isn’t ideal. And I know you’re doing your best. I’m far from the parents that your mom and dad were, but I still want the best for you. Do you understand?”
Ayla offered a small smile and glanced up briefly with an even quicker nod of acknowledgment.
“I believe you, Uncle Axur.”
Moments like this made Axur tense and awkward, more than usual, with his niece. He knew he should be comforting, but he had no idea how to do that. Deciding that he was satisfied with their little talk, he stood to walk away.
“Uncle Axur?”
His formal and stiff gait halted, but he remained facing away.
“Yes?”
“Do you miss my dad?”
His heart tightened slightly at Ayla’s question. He hadn’t realized how much he’d feared being the one to have this conversation with her until that moment. He took a deep breath and turned to face her bright, inquisitive eyes.
“Your father was the best and only brother I had. And your mother was a great person as well. Things I know you already know.” He hadn’t answered her question, thinking she would accept that answer. She didn’t, and he sighed. “Of course, I miss him. I miss them both.”
That admission bought a smile, however sad, from Ayla.
