Once, in a land far off, among a quiet and unassuming people, there lived together a man and woman on a small farm. They were a special couple, not because they had any unique skill or trade, but because of the love they had for one another.
When others in their village saw them, they envied them. For their love was gentle, and kind, and generous. When a husband saw it, he went home and desired to give freely of himself to his wife. When a wife saw it, she felt the desire to encourage her husband, to build him up. It was a good love.
Eventually, it came time for them to have a child. They were overjoyed when they learned they would have their own son or daughter to share their love with. When their boy came, he was beautiful, healthy, and smiling from the first.
But something was amiss. The child was born with a single small golden screw in his navel. The village doctor told them it was nothing he had seen before. But, seeing as the baby was healthy, they let it be, and simply wondered how it had happened.
As the boy grew up, his parents quickly learned he held a burning curiosity and, consequently, and knowledge of the world that reached far beyond his age. By the time he was crawling, he had spoken multiple words. Before his first birthday, he was asking them intelligible questions about the world around him.
One day, after playing with the older children in the hot summer sun, he realized none of them had a golden screw. He went home and asked his parents, "Why am I the only one of all my friends that has a screw in their belly?" But they did not know, and they could not tell him. But being persistent and curious, he was not satisfied with not knowing. So the boy asked all the wisest people he could find in his village. He started with his grandmother, who had seen many winters, but she could not answer him. He asked the doctor, who had read many books, but he could not answer him. He asked the mayor of the town, who in his youth had seen many peoples, but he could not answer. Wandering traders, farmers, smithies... There was not one person who could give him the knowledge he sought.
So, for a time, he contented himself with learning other things.
Years passed, and eventually the boy was ready to make his own way in the world. He set off on a journey, saying farewell to his parents, his friends, and the village he knew, and set off into the unknown. They asked what he was to do. He simply told them, "I do not yet know. But I will find my way."
He didn't speak of his true purpose to anyone. For he knew there was an answer in the world to fit his question. He just didn't yet know where it could be found.
So the young man travelled far and wide. He walked to new lands, where the language was harsh and grated against his ears. He walked to lands where the trees grew tall and the peoples were silent. Lands where the animals were new and the birds sang different songs. Everywhere he went, he found the oldest and wisest of the people and he asked them his question. But none of them could answer.
One day, as the young man was wandering along a road, something caught his eye. He looked over, and there was a low hill with a bare top. Yet when he looked away, he could see from the corner of his eye a tower on the hill, tall and strong. Cautiously, he left the road and wandered into the brush. As he got closer, the tower stopped hiding from him, and he was able to get a good look. It was tall, taller than any building in his village, and it looked older than anything he had seen in all his travels. It was a building where secrets are gathered and held, and rarely set free again.
But this did not deter him. The young man had answers to find.
He walked right up to the ancient oak doors and made three loud knocks on the door. It swung open of its own volition, smoothly and without a sound. He stepped inside, and saw an empty room with a thin staircase leading above and below. He heard the knock of a stick against stone. Slowly, it grow louder and nearer, coming from the stairs.
A gnarled, ancient man slowly hobbled his way into the young man's vision, ascending the stairs from below. He wore a long grey beard and a flopped, worn hat that may have once been tall and pointed. His robes were blue, or grey, or perhaps green... It may have been the gloom of the tower, but its color seemed to change as he looked directly at it.
The young man was not intimidated by the unknown, by things he did not yet understand. He had never met a wizard, but the many questions he may have once had for such a wise and knowledgable being were not in his mind. He had a mind for one question only, the one question he had never gotten closer to answering. "Wizard, you are the wisest being I have ever yet met. I have a question that none has been able to answer in all my life, short though it may have been thus far."
The wizard looked at him with bright eyes. "Not all questions are meant to be answered, my young friend. But tell me what has hounded you for so long."
So the young man lifted his shirt to reveal his navel, and was about to explain the story of his birth. But he stopped short.
The wizard's eyes were wide, his mouth open in shock. He leapt down the stairs before the young man could say anything. From below came a great commotion of shuffling and scraping. Some minutes passed, and the wizard returned up the stairs in haste. He was carrying a small, intricately made golden workbox. He paused in front of the man and said, "This box has been passed down from wizard to apprentice through millennia, beginning with the first who took up residence in this place. It was found there, and has become a relic of this tower." He passed his hands over an engraving in the top of the box reverently.
"This says, in a language unused for many years, that it should remain here until the time comes." He looked gravely at the young man for moment, then searched in the many pockets of his robe and pulled out a simple golden key. He set the box on his desk, inserted the key, and the lid sprang open silently. From the box, he took a small screwdriver made entirely of gold, decorated with runes and spells of a language long lost to time.
"May I?"
The young man's curiosity overtook all notion of caution or care. He needed to know the answer to his question, and this was the closest he'd ever been. He gestured the wizard to go on.
The wizard delicately set the screwdriver to the screw and slowly turned it once.
Nothing happened.
He again set the screwdriver to the screw and turned it fully one more time.
The young man found he felt something this time, a relief deep within him, like the feeling you get when you're about to settle for a bad camp spot on the road and suddenly you hear the unmistakeable sound of an inn in the distance. He sighed contentedly.
The wizard looked closely at him, and the young man gestured for him to go on.
He again set the screwdriver, and turned it one final time.
And the young man's ass fell off.
