Chapter 1.

(Sunday February 9th 1902)

The Winter was exceptionally cold, which proved to be quite challenging for Thorstar as he'd had to pretend to be cold in his constant company of humans. His roommate at the Collegium Regium, called Regensen, Vilhelm Buhl; a law student, liked to burn the midnight oil and sat at his desk, day and night, teeth chattering, wrapped in blankets and writing political letters to the editors of all the local newspapers in Copenhagen.

They didn't exactly get along. They were both Socialists, yes, but Vilhelm was an evolutionary and Thorstar a revolutionary, ... enough said. If Thorstar had known Vilhelm would serve as Prime Minister for a few short months in 1945 for the Liberation Government after WWII, maybe he would've rolled his eyes a little less often at him. But probably not.

Regensen, where they lived, was the oldest residentual college at the University of Copenhagen. It was home to talented, but underprivileged students. The foundation behind the College provided them with free housing and scholarships, but unfortunately not with much heating during the winter months, which unfortunately made some students burn their books in desperation.

Thorstar woke early in the morning, the rising sun sending a warm glowing light into their small room on the second floor, but he knew it was colder than Hell as there was frost on his blanket. He looked up to see Vilhelm sitting by his desk as always, giving Thorstar a long examining look.

It quickly became very uncomfortable. "What?" he snapped.

"It's not clouding, "Vilhelm said.

He blinked in surprise. "What?"

"Your breath, "Vilhelm clarified. "It's not clouding." He exhaled slowly, his breath showing as a white, transperant cloud.

"Oh, I must be too cold, "Thorstar explained vaguely, drawing the blankets up over his head. He took a couple of seconds to turn on his heartbeat and he immediately started shaking uncontrollably in the freezing dorm room.

'How the Hell do humans live through this day and night for months?' he thought. 'How have I ever done it?'

Vilhelm took out his pocket watch, sighed and got up to light a fire in the stove, which meant it was now after seven. As the heat slowly spread, Thorstar fell back into a slumber. Vilhelm and he were both ungodly creatures, who stubbernly ignored the sound of the church bells on Sunday mornings. Unfortunately the Student Church was right next door and around nine they could usually hear the other students drag their feet down the hallways and staircases on their way to service at the Trinitatis churchby the Round Tower.

But this Sunday, Thorstar never made it that far. After an hour of sleep, only occasionally disturbed by the scribbling of Vilhelm's pen, an insistant voice called out: "Tore?"

It took him a couple of seconds to realize that meant him. He had taken Astronomy classes at the University about 150 years earlier as Thorstar Hansen. This time he used the name Tore Eliassen. Just in case, though he did not believe they kept records dating that far back. The real problem now where the photographs. He had to avoid any student photography or he could never again return to the University.

"Tore?" Vilhelm repeated with badly hidden amusement in his voice.

"What?!" Thorstar's eyes sprung open and he did a double take as a very familar face was hovering inches above his own. "For the love of God, Kol!"

"Hejsan!" Kol greeted him in Swedish, not having kept his Danish up to date. "Hur mår du*?"

"Fine." Thorstar answered dissmissively, much more interested in Kol's colourful headwear. "What the Hell is that?"

"It's Shrovetide, mate, "Kol answered cheerfully, switching to an English that sounded a bit more British than last time they met.

"And you're supposed to be?"

"A jester." Kol shook his head and the tiny bells on his hat tinkled. "What else?"

Thorstar snorted. "Of course."

"I've got one for you as well." Kol took his bag from the floor and pulled out a mass of green and yellow fabric. His own costume was in green and red.

Thorstar touched it lightly. I wasn't made of the cheap cotton the other students used for their costumes. It was made of fine-spun wool. He gave Kol a surprised look. "Are these tailor-made?"

Kol grinned widely at him. "Of course."

"Alright, "Thorstar wanted to comment on the stupidity of such unnecessary extravagance, but decided against it. He turned off his heartbeat before setting his feet down on the cold stone-floor. "But I'm not in the mood for the parade."

Kol and himself loose in Copenhagen on Quinquagesima Sunday usually resulted in a lot of angry housewives, who found their underwear hanging from lampposts. Or their brandy bottles drained and filled with water, which was a thousand times worse. They were Danes - they'd been drinking since the beginnig of time without as much as coming up for air. Every celebration, every break, every new day was an opportunity to get totally and utterly hammered.

"There's a party at Lorry." Kol waited patiently, while Thorstar dressed in first his woollen pants and sweater and then pulled on the jester costume. "It starts at two."

"I guess we have about five hours to kill then." He donned the hat with a strangely dignified expression on his face. If there was one thing he and Kol had in common, it was their shared inability to feel embarrassed. Quite frankly, it could never get too ridiculous or too absurd. At least not when they were together.

"So, what do you want to do?" They regarded each other expectantly for a minute, each waiting for the other to make some outrageous suggestion that would seriously brighten up the day.

"You want to play Possum?" Kol finally suggested.

"What's that?" Thorstar already felt a little excited. This had to be stupid. It just had to.

"Elementary." Kol folded his hands, looking strangely pious. But just for a second as it was against everything he believed in. "We climb into a tree, drink as much as we can and the one, who falls out first, loses."

Thorstar bit his lower lip, searching for a way to make it even more stupid. "That's not quite far enough for us to fall, "he finally stated.

Kol frowned. "What do you suggest?"

"Not tree, but the Round Tower**."

Kol smiled. "Deal."

Vilhelm looked up as they walked past him, quite oblivious as he did not understand a word of English, but somehow aware enough to be suspicious. "Where are you going?"

"Round Tower, "Thorstar gave him a reassuring smile.

Vilhelm bend over his papers again, scribbling enthusiastically. "Oh, that's nice, "he said complacently.

Kol snorted. "Yeah, you would think, wouldn't you?"

Thorstar literally kicked him out of the door, before he could say anything else.

*Hur mår du? (Swedish): How are you (feeling)?

**The Round Tower (Rundetaarn) of Copenhagen is (only) about 34 metres tall.