Two dragons guard an orchard that produces golden fruit. One has wings. One does not. They bite each other until they are covered in blood. In dying they become living water. The man who wrote this said the dragons are the two things inside every person that hate each other and cannot be separated. The winged one can be chased away. The wingless one never leaves. He painted them on the wall of a cemetery.

The same man said the blackness at the beginning is the only sign the work is proceeding correctly. Without it, everything fails. He compared it to the black sail on the ship of Theseus — the sail that made the father throw himself from the cliff because he believed his son was dead. The father read the black sail as defeat. The son knew it was victory. The alchemist said both readings were correct. The father had to die for the son to become king.