When the pan had cooled, the monk and the boy looked at it, dazzled.
The lead had dried into the shape of the pan, but it was no longer lead. It was gold. "Will I learn to do that someday?" the boy asked. "This was my personal legend, not yours," the alchemist answered. "But I wanted to show you that it was possible." They returned to the gates of the monastery. There, the alchemist separated the disk into four parts. "This is for you," he said, holding one of the parts out to the monk. "It's for your generosity to the pilgrims." "But this payment goes well beyond my generosity," the monk responded. "Don't say that again. Life might be listening, and give you less the next time." The alchemist turned to the boy. "This is for you. To make up for what you gave to the general." The boy was about to say that it was much more than he had given the general.