The Second Rule of Alchemy
Smoke billowed up like a cloud from the Alchemist’s pipe, obscuring his aged face. His gaze peered sharply out, watching every movement of his apprentice’s face.
“Are you sure you wish to learn the second rule of Alchemy? It is the most painful and agonizing rule to learn. Once learned, it cannot be unlearned, and it will haunt every decision you will make henceforth.”
The apprentice cried out again, “Yes, master! How many times must I say it? I will say it a thousand times!”
“And you know the first rule of alchemy?”
“Yes. ‘I do not know what I want.’ I cannot know the difficulty that lies ahead, but I know that I need to go through it in order to be an alchemist.”
“And you know you wish to be an alchemist?”
“Yes. Has my devotion to you not been enough to show that?”
The Alchemist said nothing. His pipe crackled as he sucked in more smoke.
Does he know this is where my last two apprentices turned from the path? No. How could he know?
At last, the Alchemist spoke, “To learn the second rule of alchemy, we must cross the desert. We will begin tomorrow.”
The next day, as the sun rose, the alchemist and his apprentice set out on a journey across the desert. The apprentice knew the day was the worst time to travel in the desert but said nothing. The master rode on a camel laden with resources, while the apprentice walked beside him, carrying a pack on his back.
By midday, the apprentice was halfway out of water. The alchemist watched his apprentice while sipping at his own waterskin.
“Tell me. Do you still wish to know the second rule of alchemy?”
“Yes, of course!”
“Even if it might cost you your life?”
The master would never let me die. “It won’t cost me my life. If it would, how would you have become an alchemist?”
The master barked a laugh in amusement. “Yes! A very good point!” Then was silent for many minutes.
“Master, my greatest desire is to learn alchemy. I have spent many days in your service pondering all of the ways that I do not know how this desire will affect me, but I know that I want it.”
“Good then,” the alchemist said, then carried on.
By afternoon, the apprentice’s water was nearly gone. By evening, only a few drops remained.
That night, the alchemist created a fire for them to sit by as the desert cooled.
“Master, may I fill my water skin from yours?”
“No.”
The boy was alarmed. “How will I survive another day out here without water?”
“You might not,” his master said grimly.
The next day the boy rose before the sun, said his prayers to the gods, and they began to walk further into the desert.
As the morning sun rose and the first heat and light hit the boy’s face, he knew that he would not make it to the end of the day before begging for water.
As the day wore on, he began to dream of the sun setting, of the coolness of the evening. Minutes would pass, and all he could dream of was the water sloshing in his master’s skins. Soon he stopped sweating, and when he fell for the first time, he knew he only had one, maybe two more falls before he would fall and never get up again.
The boy fell the second time just as the sun was setting. The alchemist dismounted his camel and knelt down next to the boy, “Do you want water, or do you wish to know the second rule of alchemy?”
The boy was nearly delirious, but his eyes cleared and met his master’s eyes. “Alchemy.”
“Hmm. Then get up. We need to cross the desert.”
The boy slowly pushed himself onto his hands and knees, then steadied himself on his master's robe, stood, and walked. The master walked beside him, leading the camel. The apprentice walked for a few more minutes and then fell again.
Again the master knelt and asked, “Do you want to know the second rule of alchemy, or do you want water?”
This time the boy was quiet. Finally, he said, “Water.”
So the master pulled a water skin from his pack, cradled his apprentice’s head in his lap, and then dribbled water into his apprentice’s mouth. When the boy was ready, he gave him the water skin to drink, commanding him to go slowly.
The alchemist made a fire for the evening, and for a long time, the boy did not speak. The alchemist smoked his long pipe and watched him.
“I’ve failed you, master.”
Now the real trial begins, the alchemist thought. “Hmm. You’ve failed me?”
“Yes. I turned from the path. I know that I was supposed to trust in my desire for alchemy to carry me through, that alchemy somehow would transform the sand into water…” the boy trailed off.
“Turn the sand into water?”
“Or something! Maybe the wind would carry me? Or I was supposed to turn into a grain of sand myself!” he dropped his head and the alchemist could see thin streams of tears running down his face.
“What is it you want now?” the alchemist said.
“I want you to yell at me, or chastise me. To leave me here to die. I want to show you that I can do it, to try again.”
“You want me to leave you here to die?”
“Yes! No! I deserve to die.”
The alchemist’s smoke spilled up from his pipe and out of his mouth and out onto the breeze.
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“I want…I just want to go home and cry.”
The alchemist nodded. He truly felt the agony in his student’s sadness. He hated teaching this lesson more than all the others. “My apprentice, what is the first rule of alchemy?”
“Apprentice?” The alchemist nodded. “Master! The first rule of alchemy is ‘You do not know what you want.’”
“Good. Two days ago, what did you want?”
“I wanted to learn the second rule of alchemy!”
“This morning and this afternoon, what did you want?”
“Water.”
“And now, you say you want to die, to cry, to be yelled at.”
“Yes…”
“Why did you not continue to desire to learn about alchemy today?”
“I was dying! I needed water!”
“So you abandoned your wants and desires. But in that moment, did you still want to be an alchemist?”
“Yes.”
“You would have taken being transformed into an alchemist over water? Do you think I am a genie, boy? I need water the same as you!”
“No. I needed water.”
“Good. So you abandoned the path of alchemy. This is good, too.”
The apprentice’s head was swimming. “Master, what do you mean? How could abandoning the path of alchemy be good?”
“The second rule of alchemy is this: ‘Have no loyalty to yourself.’ It is circumstances that bring about yourself, but circumstances change. Alchemy is about transformation. Do you think the sea changed into the desert by staying loyal to itself? Would you have survived had you stayed loyal to the apprentice who wanted to become an alchemist? Would lead transform to gold if the lead was bound and determined to remain lead?”
“So the water…I was always going to dehydrate?”
“Unless you could transform the sand to water. I’ve never seen it done, but maybe?” The alchemist chuckled.
“Would you have let me die?”
At last, the question.
“Yes. I would have honored your desire since it is my desire to make you into an alchemist. The road to becoming an alchemist is challenging. There is no transformation without suffering. It is a requirement of your training that you transform. You had to experience it firsthand. And now you will never forget it.”
The silence hung between them for a long moment.
“Am I still your apprentice? Really?”
“Yes. If you so desire.”
“Yes.”
“Good then. Tell me more about how you might transform sand into water.”
