My window/door functioned not only as a point of entry into this place. It was also a roving eye through which I could search and manipulate this vast realm of knowledge. Since the Archives did not adhere to any scientific laws, it was malleable in ways that was difficult to imagine.

For instance, despite looking out into the black, empty void of space, I could—and did—make a few gestures in front of the window, and through it a book appeared. It was bound in leather and all the pages were dog-eared. It looked like something that had come out of Merlin’s collection, and behind it the bridges and walkways shrank away until it was floating before me. I cannot physically touch it. The magical boundaries set by the charm prevented me from doing so.

Like the rest of Toronto which existed outside my bedroom, so, too, did this ancient, timeless realm, which was a step too far for me to travel. Thus far, I have not gotten up the courage to try in another’s body.

Don’t get me wrong, the temptation was always there. But if I were to walk inside this world on my own two feet (or any two feet I have appropriated for my uses), there always existed the possibility that somehow, the magic tethering me in place would break, and I would never find my way back to my own body again.

That was a risk I am not willing to take.

Instead, I studied. The whole reason Gramps showed me was to teach me magic; and always, we knew the solution to my problems was magical in nature, and that is why I have kept up my investigation of the Archives. My efforts have proved fruitless thus far, but the place has helped out in any number of Clark’s cases I’ve worked on.

Today, I’m hoping it will do the same.

A flick of my wrist, and the book opened. The pages—made of parchment and not paper—was blank. I wriggled a finger, and they began flipping. One by one, a quickening blur was accompanied by audible rattling as the worn covers struggled to hold the sheets together. With my free hand, I began tracing out symbols. Blocky characters appeared in my window with every stroke of my index finger, glowing with the black, ethereal light of conjured ink. These were not letters from any known alphabet—but that was to be expected. I was working with the truncated message I had been given, which had led me to the story of the Prophet’s curse.

As I worked, the words took form. Individual letters and characters sprang forth, before I waved them towards the floating, empty book. There, they embedded themselves into the whispering pages. The words were rearranged to form abridged sentences, which burned into the parchment with soft hisses of smoke. 

 I kept going.

Magic was a lot like mathematics in many ways. I did not have the whole formula (and from what I’ve been told, I’m glad that I didn’t, for the power of creation was a burden I was not prepared to bear); but, with bits and pieces, it was possible to partially recreate the equation. Have x, can figure out y—that sort of thing. I wasn’t even looking to do that much. All I wanted was confirmation of what I had heard, and what I have seen.

I got it soon enough as the spell took shape.

I saw the world.

Our world.

It was grasped in the palm of my hand; and of course, it would have looked unimpressive to you. Those who did not understand unimaginable, arcane powers saw only a clump of dirt which sprang to life from the pages of a floating book. On this dirt was a sprout, a small purplish leaf poking out of the top, attached to a thin green stem. It would not have won any prizes at a fair, and truth to be told would barely be acceptable as homework submitted by a second-grade science class. I was literally watching grass grow, but to me, it was the most amazing thing in the world to see.

It was life.

The magic—even in shortened form—had created life!

I took a deep breath. For a moment, I forgot everything else. This enchantment was the most powerful work of magic I had ever witnessed; and for the first time since becoming what I am, I was glad that I did not need to sleep. Insomnia with no respite finally had its uses; and since I could not turn off my mind, I devoted my energies to what lies ahead.

Without an actual body, the human consciousness is all that’s left; and what is left is basically a computer which is perpetually turned on. I kept working. My mind continued processing information. I attempted to decipher more of the message, and sometimes I was even successful.

Most times, I was not.

The minutiae would be incomprehensible to a layman, but suffice to say I speedily lost track of time. It was not a rooster’s crow which alerted me to morning, but rather the thump of the front door as my wife went out. The sound was followed by the distant grinding of our garage door, and her car’s engines sputtering to life.

I was shocked.

Had it been physically possible to do so, I would have dropped the book I was working with. I snapped back from the window in a huff, my eyes tracking in a panic towards the door. All this time I’ve been working before the portal, and anyone passing my bedroom door would have a firsthand look at sights not meant for mortal eyes. I could have been discovered in a heartbeat; and at any time over the last however many hours, Mary could have spared a glance into my bedroom and found out my terrible secret!

I couldn’t allow that.

Alas, she must have passed by my room on her way to work; and yet, she never noticed what was happening inside.

Never came in.

Never even looked.

The book before me slammed shut. The clump of dirt hovering over my hand fell to pieces. The leaf withered, and followed the dirt into nothingness inside the Arcane Archives. I waved a hand and the book slapped shut. It whirled away as I turned away from the window, threw shut the doorway with a sound like silent thunderclaps. The glowing seams faded, and the glass cleared up; and outside, I saw my wife drive away. The sights and sounds of a Canadian metropolis blasted over the street at me.

Yet, I could not hear anything over the grinding of my own teeth and the steady sound of the monitor’s beeping in the background.

So, I did what I could.

I activated the spell.