[ WP ] A modern teenager is transported into a fantasy world , where they are forced into a quest with young witches and wizards their age . Fortunately , they 've got a backpack full of high-tech gizmos to help them along .

`` At last! Our savior is here!'' 
 
 An unrestrained cheer erupted throughout the crowd before Terry, who looked entirely out of place among the robes and pointed hats surrounding him. He wore a hooded sweatshirt, jeans, sneakers, and a red-and-black backpack. 
 
 `` Where, uh... where am I?'' Terry quietly asked. 
 
 `` In the Tower of Shucarcha, savior!'' one of the more grand mages at the front of the crowd said. His robes and hat were trimmed with what appeared to be gold fibers. `` Please! Bequeath upon us your name!'' 
 
 `` Terry,'' the teen said, slowly craning his head around. `` Man, I really must have banged my head when that kid pushed me.'' 
 
 `` Nay, savior. You were summoned here by us, to free us from the clutches of Iroyke, the Twisted!'' the gaudily-dressed mage said back to him. `` Our spell could choose none other than the perfect candidate, which is you, young Trent!'' 
 
 `` Terry,'' the teen said again, `` You... said my name wrong. Already. And I'm still not convinced.'' He reached up and felt his head. His forehead hurt, and a fairly pole-shaped welt was developing there. He recalled hitting his head, but then... 
 
 `` My apologies, savior Terry! Please do not smite me for my impudence!'' 
 
 `` The hell does that word mean? And, bequeath? Ca n't say I've heard those before. English is a poor subject for me, but still...'' Terry slowly stood, a bit uneasily at first. He quickly came to realize that he stood upon a stone dais of sorts, which was covered in numerous odd symbols and runes, which he could make no sense of. `` Where am I again?'' 
 
 `` The Tower of Shucarcha,'' one of the mages repeated back to him. `` High above the Plain of Saints, and gateway to the Shattered Mausoleum.'' 
 
 `` I ca n't say I caught a single word of any of that,'' Terry admitted. `` Can I go home? I'm between periods right now, and I've got a math test in like, ten minutes.'' 
 
 A murmur resounded throughout the crowd suddenly. The mages before him whispered among each other conspiratorially, until the man at the front of the crowd cleared his throat. 
 
 `` I am afraid you may not, until we are freed!'' he shouted again, `` Please, savior! Have mercy upon we simple mages! Be our sword of justice!'' 
 
 Terry just stared at him. `` I really, seriously have to be back there in a few minutes. Ca n't you summon another savior or something? Maybe someone who's... a few years older?'' 
 
 The mage with the gaudy robe fell silent for a time, before he finally said `` Very well. I shall inform my daughter that she will have to wait another year to accompany the savior on their quest...'' 
 
 Terry very suddenly raised a hand, however. `` Hold on. Daughter? How old? Is she seventeen? Maybe older?'' 
 
 `` I see not why her age should matter at all --'' 
 
 `` Just answer the question! The savior demands it!'' Terry exclaimed, animatedly pointing a finger at the mage. 
 
 `` Se-Seventeen!'' the mage shouted in response, `` She is on the cusp of maturity, just as the savior is!'' 
 
 `` Fine! I'll be your savior!'' Terry very rashly decided. `` Let's get this over with quickly!'' He rushed forward and stepped down from the stone dais, pushing his way through the crowd, which had at some point erupted into cheering again. 
 
 -- - 
 
 `` We'll set off tomorrow. Be ready,'' Armelya said. She had introduced herself as the high mage's daughter, and looked both too old to be younger than sixteen, but too young to be older than eighteen. She held black and slightly curly hair, and a face that most would likely have considered to be'cute' and perhaps no more. 
 
 `` Sure. I'll be up,'' Terry said, `` I'll set three alarms on my phone.'' He reached into his pocket, retrieving a smartphone from it. Fortunately, it seemed that it was n't broken or damaged. 
 
 `` Pho... ne?'' Armelya asked, craning her head over to look at the object. `` What is that?'' 
 
 `` It's a thing that lets people talk to me no matter where I am,'' Terry said, `` And it can do alarms, games, and... other stuff.'' 
 
 `` No matter where you are?'' Armelya asked, tilting her head slightly. `` Your land must be quite adept with magic, to be able to create such things.'' 
 
 `` I guess. But, I'll have to use it really sparingly. I do n't think there are outlets... wherever this is. Or whenever,'' Terry said, `` Do you know what electricity is?'' 
 
 `` Never heard of it,'' Armelya simply said, turning to leave Terry's room. 
 
 `` Figured as much. That means my phone's gon na be useless, eventually...'' He looked back into his backpack, going over what he had with him. A math textbook. A laser pointer. A sharpener, and three pencils. A pen. A thermos ( which, unfortunately, was empty ). And finally, a swiss-army knife. Unfortunately, the blade was barely as long as his palm -- something required by law. 
 
 `` Keys in my pocket,'' he remarked to himself, `` Not that I expect them to be useful.'' 
 
 Armelya quickly peeked her head back into the room. `` Oh yes, I forgot to mention... The first step of our quest is to enter the Shattered Mausoleum and retrieve the legendary sword, Sanctis. Be ready for a tough journey.'' 
 
 `` Right. Legendary sword. Shattered something-or-other. Tough journey,'' Terry said, `` I'll see you in the morning.'' 
 
 Armelya nodded and disappeared from the door again, leaving the teen alone in his room. 
 
 Only after he laid down to sleep did he consider whether or not his alarm would go off at the right time.
