Aft Diary Entry, Burned; part 8

Massaging the bridge of his nose, more out of exhaustion than a headache, Uran looked at Lotois and found that everyone in the room was watching him with eyes filled with concern. It's been a long since he's felt the need to express intentions of crying, the last of which was when his wife died and all he did was look like a stiff doll. Trying his best to stay aware that he wasn’t tearing up despite his rough demeanor ordering people around what to do and when to leave places for missions.

“On that note, the wives have pumped up the engine strong enough for us to leave this place in a jiffy. Though I thought Ronata’s patience would have singled your slowness again, at least her wife pestered her to calm her knickers down because we were all shocked when we felt that magic. The stress the magical explosions did to our shards isn't as bad as she thought it would, but we cannot be sure.” Lotois kept updating.