Each new ritual, with each new spell, he unlocked the secrets of the multiverse. He could play space and time like a fiddle, transmute lead into gold, and effortlessly rend the sad veil of reality.
But, each new spell was a black chain upon his mind. With each new secret he wrenched from less distant stars, some small part of him died. By the time the wizard laid bare the workings of the universe, there was not enough of him left to care.
He had displaced himself fully.
Though he could shake mountains to the roots and ascended to the stars in a wink, the wizard could no longer bring himself to get out of bed.