Here's a fifteen-year-old boy, looking around at the multitude of objects. His eyes fall upon an old tapestry, which depicts a nice little countryside setting, and he keeps listening to the tour.

The tapestry, named “Nothing More Interesting Than The Countryside,” was commissioned by Mr. Reed with the explicit purpose of causing people to wonder why anyone would possess such a tapestry. The unknown artist declined to sign it.

The other students seem to mostly agree with Mr. Reed’s opinion on the tapestry, moving on to other pieces that seem to be organised without much thought to pattern or fit: a Greek statue (with the colours restored) side-by-side with an Egyptian vase, both sitting next to a small sculpture of a bonsai.

Trailing behind the others a bit, Theo moves on past the less interesting displays (a random metal spoon? Really?) and reads a bit about the statue and vase, ignoring the weirdly-positioned bonsai. He's not exactly a history buff, but he does find ancient cultures kinda interesting.

The statue and bonsai are in fact genuine antiquities, at least, although there has been some controversy over the vase.

And a noise. It sounds almost like... someone's snoring? Coming from a more out of the way display over there, not very well illuminated.

Huh. That's weird.

He wanders over in that direction, looking at a few displays on the way – it doesn't seem like anyone's looking at it, so it's probably nothing interesting.

It's actually a really pretty book, with an actual gemstone engraved on its cover and details in what looks suspiciously like actual gold.

It's propped on a bookstand with a "Do Not Touch" sign hanging from it.

And no-one's looking at it? That's bizarre. It looks really neat.

The Clow Book, his electronic tour guide explains, is one of the museum's most interesting objects. Clow Reed himself manufactured it, and when the museum was opened, he requested that it be displayed in this exact spot and that no one ever attempt to open it. Should this condition not be respected, the part of his fortune dedicated to maintaining the museum will be diverted to one of his other causes. As such, no one knows the contents of the book.

Oh, wow. That's... particular. Is that why no-one else is here?

Theo looks around for the source of the snoring, but finds nothing. He leans over the book, studying its 3D surface and the jewel embedded into the forehead of the lion on the cover.

The snoring seems to have stopped.

On the other hand, when Theo peers at the book it—clicks—and opens on its own.

He stands up quickly and looks around. He's pretty sure the book's not supposed to do that.

No one seems to have noticed it. The book opens veeeeery slowly, and inside—

cards. About twelve inches long and four inches wide, the pages of the book have a rectangular hole in them with several cards like that one.

Well, if no one seems to have noticed, he's not going to draw attention to the fact that the unopened book has now opened.

He looks back at the book and the cards, and looks at the top one. Is there any writing there? Does the book have some sort of information on what this is? He makes sure not to touch it – he hasn't done anything wrong yet.

The cards are large enough compared to the pages that there is very little space for anything to be written on them. Well, the top page, at least, is blank.

That's not particularly helpful then. Is there any indication what the cards might be for?

He looks at the diagram on the card a bit more closely. What's it about?

It doesn’t seem to really be about anything. It’s this strange circle, except flattened, with a sun and a moon and a geometric star around them. All around very unhelpful.

Oh, that's curious. He's pretty sure he recognises these as either Chinese or Japanese cardinal directions, at least the characters in the left and bottom circles on the diagram (North and... probably West, if it's like a compass layout).

It really doesn't look like there's much information here about what the cards are, the warning only mentioned that nobody attempt to open it, and there's no one about. After a quick check for cameras, he decides to go pick up the top card and look at the second one.

The second card looks exactly like the first one—except for the fact that it turns out that the weird circle symbol thing was the back of the card. The previously hidden side of the card Theo took has something—different.

He compares the two cards' sides that were originally facing upwards, notices that they're identical, then turns over the first one to look at the other side. "The Windy," he reads aloud, laughing slightly—

It glows. A whirlwind forms around his body and the book, coming from the ground and reaching the ceiling. And the cards—all of the cards—are scattered by this mystical wind. Flying through the ceiling as if it wasn’t there, one by one they escape from the book, leaving it completely empty.

Another consequence of a mystical wind that scatters magic cards? It’s strong enough to topple the book stand, drop the book, and produce a reasonable amount of noise.

"Whoa, what the hell?" he shouts. Panicking a little, he tries to grab some cards as they fly away, and starts in alarm when the stand falls over.

Too little, too late, too magically slippery. The cards all escape, except for the one in his hand, ‘The Windy.’ Such a bizarre name seems to fit the general humour one can glean from the tour guide’s descriptions of Clow Reed, lending credence to the idea the book was made by him. And of course, the fact that the book was filled with magical cards might suggest Mr. Reed was even more eccentric than one would naively expect.

And of course, Theo can hear hurried steps quickly approaching.

Theo darts away from the display, trying to avoid anyone in his path. What the hell was that?

Well, clearly that was—

“You! Boy! Where are you going?” The voice belongs to a security guard coming from the place Theo had been going to. What a great day.

Oh crap, seriously?

He runs back the way he came, then heads off into a different room, hoping there's a crowd he can get lost in.