Magic

"Magic I hear you say? You do understand what it is don't you?"

The boy shook his head.

"Hmm... Magic is how the Universe works. It is, at its simplest, the manipulation of reality." The old man stood. "One moment there is no staff in my hand... the next?" The air pinched together, leaving behind a tall staff of white ash. "There is a staff. But you must already know some of this, even if you do not have the words to explain it. Otherwise you would not be before me. Your father sent you to me did he not?"