Fullmetal Alchemist: Through the Gates of Truth

Chapter 7. Sacrifice of alchemy

Another day had come. After haggling for a few coins, I managed to find a place in the caravan bound for Kreta. I said goodbye to the villagers, exchanging a few last words.

"I might come back, but the world is vast, and there is so much more to see," I said to the boy who often visited me. His face was serious, but I could see that understanding flashed in it.

The caravan, made up of traders, travelers, and guards, was bustling with activity. Along the way, I talked to many people. From each conversation I extracted a thread of knowledge, each thread weaving a tapestry of understanding of this strange world.

One evening by the campfire, I spoke with a man named Ulysses, an experienced merchant. "So, tell me," I asked, "what is really behind these wars brewing between city-states?

He took a large sip from his cup, mulling over the answer. - Greed, ambition... isn't that always the case? But there is talk of more than just power. Some say there is an alchemical secret at the heart of it all. A power that can tip the scales," he murmured.

- Alchemy? What kind of secret is that?

- They say," he looked around to make sure no one could hear him, "there is a Sage who teaches methods of manipulating life itself. Supernatural powers.

This conversation didn't leave my mind for days. I began acquiring scrolls, treatises, and even old books on alchemy. At night I read and experimented. One of the treatises described a method for creating an alchemical circle, and one night I found myself scratching out symbols on the ground.

"What are you doing there?" - Amara, a young woman from the caravan, asked.

"Testing something," I replied cryptically, not taking my eyes off the symbols. "Alchemy."

"Is it a form of magic?"

I shook my head, focusing on the process. - It's not magic. It's a science... sort of Manipulation of matter, that fits the description better.

I placed my hands on the circle and felt the energy flow through me. The ground around the circle trembled slightly, shifting. For the first time, I realized that I could create with the alchemical circle. A strange sense of power and purpose settled in me.

- Tell me," I asked, studying the scroll, "what do you know about the Sage who preaches alchemy?

The scholar squinted, looking at me. "Ah, the Sage of the Wastes. A hermit rumored to have found the key to eternal life. But his teachings are dangerous. Not everyone who seeks him returns with knowledge."

I pondered this for a few days as we continued on. What if this Sage had answers to questions about my own origins? Could his knowledge help me understand my infinite life, my limits?

More questions than answers crowded my mind, but the journey continued. I practiced every night, hoping for revelations.

Amara: "You seem to be obsessed with alchemy lately. What do you hope to find?"

"Answers. About myself. About the limits of what I can do. Maybe even... something else, something new to this world."

Ulysses: "Be careful, wanderer. Alchemy isn't just about power, it's about balance. And if you take too much, the world always demands something in return."

I realized that my curiosity was a two-pronged stick. Every time I learned something new, it only added to the mysteries surrounding my existence. Did my abilities really have a limit? Or was I destined to wander this world endlessly in search of knowledge but never find answers?

I began to become more familiar with alchemical transformations, gradually grasping the fundamental law: nothing comes from nothing. To create something, you must sacrifice something else - either the material itself or parts of what you want to create. The principle of equal exchange was at the heart of each of my experiments, and with each success I felt that I was getting closer to unlocking the secrets of alchemy.