“Why are you called the alchemist?” “Because that’s what I am.”
And what went wrong when other alchemists tried to make gold and were unable to do so?
“They were looking only for gold,” his companion answered. “They were seeking the treasure of their Personal Legend,
without wanting actually to live out the Personal Legend.”
“What is it that I still need to know?” the boy asked. But the alchemist continued to look to the horizon.
And finally the falcon returned with their meal. They dug a hole and lit their fire in it, so that the light of the flames would not be seen.
“I’m an alchemist simply because I’m an alchemist,” he said, as he prepared the meal.
“I learned the science from my grandfather, who learned from his father, and so on, back to the creation of the world.
In those times, the Master Work could be written simply on an emerald.
But men began to reject simple things, and to write tracts, interpretations, and philosophical studies.
They also began to feel that they knew a better way than others had. Yet the Emerald Tablet is still alive today.”
“What was written on the Emerald Tablet?” the boy wanted to know.
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