The Englishman was disappointed. It seemed he had made the long journey for nothing.
The boy was also saddened; his friend was in pursuit of his Personal Legend.
And, when someone was in such pursuit, the entire universe made an effort to help him succeed— that’s what the old king had said.
He couldn’t have been wrong. “I had never heard of alchemists before,” the boy said.
“Maybe no one here has, either.” The Englishman’s eyes lit up. “That’s it!
Maybe no one here knows what an alchemist is! Find out who it is who cures the people’s illnesses!”
Several women dressed in black came to the well for water, but the boy would speak to none of them, despite the Englishman’s insistence.
Then a man approached. “Do you know someone here who cures people’s illnesses?” the boy asked.
“Allah cures our illnesses,” said the man, clearly frightened of the strangers. “You’re looking for witch doctors.”
He spoke some verses from the Koran, and moved on. Another man appeared.
He was older, and was carrying a small bucket. The boy repeated his question.
“Why do you want to find that sort of person?” the Arab asked.
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