and more slowly when the boy stared entranced at the endless horizons of the desert.
But his heart was never quiet, even when the boy and the alchemist had fallen into silence.
“Why do we have to listen to our hearts?” the boy asked, when they had made camp that day.
“Because, wherever your heart is, that is where you’ll find your treasure.”
“But my heart is agitated,” the boy said. “It has its dreams, it gets emotional, and it’s become passionate over a woman of the desert.
It asks things of me, and it keeps me from sleeping many nights, when I’m thinking about her.”
“Well, that’s good. Your heart is alive. Keep listening to what it has to say.”
During the next three days, the two travelers passed by a number of armed tribesmen, and saw others on the horizon.
The boy’s heart began to speak of fear. It told him stories it had heard from the Soul of the World,
stories of men who sought to find their treasure and never succeeded.
Sometimes it frightened the boy with the idea that he might not find his treasure, or that he might die there in the desert.
At other times, it told the boy that it was satisfied: it had found love and riches.
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