"Master Mark, why can't we just use a Sling Ring to get water from Holy Water Peak? It's freezing cold today, and the snow's coming down hard."
The white wizard who had once appeared on Blake Street in Manhattan wore a dark green pleated robe. The fabric at his cuffs and calves was densely stitched and tightly fitted. He looked to be under forty, yet sported a brown goatee, and his hair was tied up in a Chinese-style topknot.
Behind him was a thin young man in a thick, blue-gray cotton coat. Like Master Wong, he had a Chinese face.
Each carried a huge indigo ceramic jar on his back. Bracing themselves against the frost with hands and feet, they tugged at the thick rope buried beneath the frozen snow, climbing inch by inch from the bottom of the cliff.
The young apprentice had to shout at the top of his lungs to make himself heard over the howling wind and snow. He spoke Chinese, with a heavy regional accent and local turns of phrase.
"When Heaven is about to lay great responsibility upon the dead, it must first toil their bones and sinews for seven days, and empty their kidneys."
"Master Mark! I'm sorry, I was wrong. Please speak English!"
The apprentice wailed and switched to fairly fluent English. Master Mark loved quoting the classics, and he'd brought him along because he was Chinese, so the two of them could "chat freely."
The Kamar-Taj wizard thought over what he wanted to say next, but couldn't quite remember it. As he resolved to review his books once he got back, he switched to English.
"Though we study the magic of Vishanti, we aren't frail fortune-tellers and prophets. Training the body and will is a required part of a Kamar-Taj wizard's