“Well, the first thing to understand is that there’s more than one world,” he said, sounding like he’d rattled this stuff off before. “We call this one the First Emanation, but there’s also a Second Emanation. You can think of it as another world that grew out of this one.”

“Like a parallel universe?”

“Sort of. They’re not as separate as that phrase implies. People can travel from one to the other. And the geography there echoes the geography here, though it’s not all from the present time.”

I nodded and tried to look like I was getting it.

“Okay. So, the F-Em has a large population of creatures — animals and people.”

“FM?”

“As in ‘First Emanation.’ Big ‘E,’ little ‘M,’ as in ‘Emanation.’”

“Oh. Right.”

So much for getting it.

“The S-Em has a population as well. We call those beings ‘Seconds,’ for short. Some Seconds look just like you or me, and some look different. The essential distinction between Seconds and the beings of this world is that they can perceive and manipulate something we call essence. Working essence enables them to do things that aren’t possible for most human beings. They can reshape reality itself in different ways. Usually the effects are small, but they can be substantial.”

“Are you talking about magic?”

“Not really. It might seem magical to humans, but to Seconds it’s not mysterious or supernatural.” He stopped to think. “You know how we can use our eyes and hands to notice and manipulate stuff on the macro level?” He picked a piece of toast up from his plate and tore it in half. “Well, Seconds have this other ability that lets them sense and manipulate stuff on the ultra-micro level. To them, it’s all very normal and reasonable, just like hands.”

Ultra-micro. “So, essence is cells and molecules and other small stuff?”

“It’s more fundamental than that. It’s what lies under all matter and energy — the basis of existence itself.”

He must’ve seen my mystified expression.

“Human science can get you part of the way there. See all the things around you? They’re all different, right? This is cloth,” he said, pointing at a dish towel, “and the table is wood. This plate is ceramic. If you look at them, touch them, they seem different. But those differences are misleading. Actually these things are all made out of the tiny particles that make up atoms, right? Science tells us everything in this room — including us — is just particles and electromagnetic fields and space.”

I nodded, but that stuff wasn’t a big part of high school physics. Building a bridge out of spaghetti I remembered. The more theoretical stuff was foggier.

“Okay, well if you follow me that far, just imagine essence as what constitutes particles, space, and so forth.”

Right. Okay. I guess.

“Are you sure it’s not just magic?”