"We must make do with what time deigns to leave us," said the Medicine Seller, crouching down to examine the noted paint flecks. He pressed his finger into them, and held it up for inspection, giving it a perfunctory sniff.

"It is odd, however. I wondered if, at first, those here counted years differently," he continued, in one of the rare moments he had more than a sentence or two to share with the class. "For it is a marvel when something survives a millennium this intact. Let alone over eight of them."