“Don’t think about what you’ve left behind,” the alchemist said to the boy as they began to ride across the sands of the desert. “Everything is written in the Soul of the World, and there it will stay forever.”
“Men dream more about coming home than about leaving,” the boy said. He was already reaccustomed to the desert’s silence.
“If what one finds is made of pure matter, it will never spoil. And one can always come back. If what you had found was only a moment of light, like the explosion of a star, you would find nothing on your return.”
This is the right time. This is the right move. And one can always come back.