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Back in the Underdark it sometimes felt as if the sun was but a memory. Time counted by sleep and food, and the Master’s word flew unevenly, and when they left, sun was a miracle.
If somebody told him a few weeks ago that he’ll feel stalked by the sun, he’d only laugh.
It wasn’t funny now.
The sun is in the sky already when he was getting up, which gave him a vague feeling of sleeping in late.
The sun is still there when he goes about his day, nothing like the got glare of Illerith, basking the mud and occasional vegetation in a cold light, seemingly warming nothing at all. The very first time Fyr leaves the Libabonk’s house, he is hit with gratitude for the new clothes he received. While it’s apparently nearly the middle of summer, the cold changes his breath into small clouds and paints his face red. He can see the family barely putting on anything, moving in and out of the hose like there was nothing odd about it, but always insisting he is bundled up to his ears. While being coddled so much makes him feel even worse about imposing on the family, he is also grateful for that. His clothes are the softest things he's ever had (and there's definitely too many of them, but nobody listens when he says that, they only smile and tell him it's alright, like it's nothing).
The sun is there when he finally goes to sleep, usually late, after spending time with the family. At the beginning he tried to make sure he kept to himself, as to not impose on the family's life even more, only a few days later realizing they started to get out of their way to be even more hospitable, seemingly believing him somehow offended.
Ginabelle seemed particularly distressed, leaving about books about Pelor and small notes where to find things he might need. Nil brought some oddly entertaining, mildly magical games from the Academy.
Then Steffit accosts him one morning, when Fyr was still dealing with his hair, although it seemed to be far easier by now than the first day, and presents him with a hair clip, the pin attached to to a large opal shaped like a sun and surrounded by a mosaic of violet amethysts. He offers it with a smile and politely ignores Fyr’s shocked expression.
The sun is there when Fyr wakes up, placed gently in Flick’s desk, the warm reflexes in the stone the first thing he sees when he gets up, and he knows he did nothing to deserve it, but an echo of Steffit’s voice voice says “it’s alright” like he believes it.