Disclaimer:

1) I own neither Warcraft III nor Fire Emblem, nor am I making any profit out of this

2) Fans of Warcraft III (Especially fans of Uther the Lightbringer) and fans of Fire Emblem (Especially fans of the Blade Lord Lyndis) please don't get mad at me for twisting those stories in my own way.

3) My story is very spoilerish in nature, so don't read if you haven't played the whole game

Thank you for your attention!

Prologue

Old Man of Lordaeron

"Urgh… ghaa…." Uther the Lightbringer cried out loudly in pain. He looked down under his chest, where his neat silver breastplate once was, and saw it had been pierced right through by a cruel frozen blade. There was no blood yet though, as the blade that struck him was frozen in nature. A sharp pain ran down the spine of the old man, and he lost balance quickly.

The old warrior then looked up, face to face with the culprit having just struck him. His opponent, a supposedly bright young blonde with muscular build, but whose face was greatly deformed by a ghastly complexion and unnatural wrinkles, was still sitting there on horseback triumphantly, his skeletal steed growling horridly, his sword shining with a dreadful blackish light and covered in frost, and his grisly armor was even further intoned by the four human skull figures adorning his shinguards and armguards. But what was more devilish of the man was his grin, which looked quite not like that of a living human, but rather the wailing grin of one with no soul at all. Behind him stood not one, not two, but a whole army of bloodthirsty ghoulish creatures with bloody teeth and claws, ever ready to tear up human flesh and dunk the delicious treat into their mouth. The foul warrior was Arthas, the corrupted Prince of the Kingdom of Lordaeron, one who had given up his soul for vengeance and who had been turned into a walking abomination of the scourge terrorizing his own people.

The old warrior, not having given up yet, tried to stand up bravely and fight on, but finally realized that his efforts had become futile. The moment had come, and the old Paladin of the Order of the Silver Hand knew his end was coming close…

"Arthas…" he said, between breaths that were becoming more and more painfully taken "I… I hope there is… will be a special place in … Hell… reserved for you…"

"We may never know, Uther, for I intend to live…" The one having just struck the fatal blow, Arthas, spoke arrogantly in a rather ghastly voice "…forever"

The old man leaned down difficultly against his blessed was hammer standing on the ground. No longer could he lift it up. Nor would he ever need to do so again, as after finishing his last insolent words, Arthas walked slowly towards the dying old man, face decorated with one of those distinctively ghastly and deathly smiles, and delivered the final blow at the neck of the dying warrior, silencing him forever, thus ended the life of the gracious Uther the Lightbringer, founding Paladin of the Order of the Silver Hand, who was once his teacher, his most faithful courtier and most of all, his friend.

After committing the horrible crime, Arthas bent down at the corpse of the poor warrior, and after a while, recovered what he claimed to be his trophy: the magical urn of King Terenas Menethil, his own father who, not long ago, was also slain by his very hands with the very sword he used to kill Uther- the dreaded runeblade Frostmourne, forged by the devious Lich King and fell into his hand in a rather arranged destiny…

"This is it, my warriors" the corrupt prince turned to his horde of undead warriors "We are reporting to the Dreadlord Tichondrius now"

The vile undead horde then departed, not before having eaten up the corpses of all the fighters having combated alongside with the late Paladin. However, guarded by divine forces, the body of the dead Paladin was left intact…

Hours later, the battlefield became active again. A group of champions of the Kingdom of Lordaeron had gathered themselves upon hearing dire news of the corrupt prince's deathly parade, and rushed to their beloved Grandmaster Uther the Lightbringer's aid. Led by Uther's two most devoted followers, Aurius the Seeker and Agramand the Truthbearer, the humans struck the ghouls at the time they were trying to use what was left of their brains to think of a way to eat up the corpse of the late Uther, and routed them soundly. It was a victory for the humans, but the arrival of the two Paladins was too late- Uther the Lightbringer, the greatest Champion of the Light of Azeroth, the most decorated and faithful veteran of the Second War, had fallen.

"Master Uther! Lord Uther! NOOOOOOO!!" Aurius cried out upon seeing the dead body of his master "Arthas, you will pay dearly for this!!!!!"

The Paladin knelt before the remains of his master, weeping. He and his comrades had been too late to save their master. Agramand also knelt down to pay tribute to his dead master, his hands gripping tightly at the handle of his blessed war hammer, as if delivering the death blow to the great defiler Arthas. The soldiers of Lordaeron who followed the two paladins on their attack also bowed to the brave soul of the champion Uther, and before long, everyone found themselves shouting a resounding "DEATH TO ARTHAS AND HIS UNDEAD HORDE!!" in anger and vengeance, followed by a pregnant pause during which everyone tried to control their emotions.

"Aurius" Agramand started speaking first after a while "We must give Lord Uther a proper burial. He is a great warrior… the greatest Azeroth will have ever seen for many years to come"

"Agreed, Agramand" Aurius replied "Still, I suggest we cannot just bury him, for the undead… they will undoubtedly dig up the grave and defile the late Uther's corpse further"

"You mean… we must incinerate his remains?"

"Yes, Agramand, that is what we should do now. Let us have the soldiers set up a proper funeral pyre for Lord Uther, and pray that his enlightened soul will find peace in the eternity. And let us remember this spot, for this ground will be Lord Uther's grave"

Then, the two paladins and their soldiers immediately set to work, and in a matter of hours a makeshift funeral pyre was constructed right at the spot where Uther the Lightbringer had been slain, and with tears overflowing the eyes of all those present, the late warrior's corpse was consumed by the fire, and then, his ash collected into a small jar and buried in discreet at the spot.

Some time later, strangely enough, Uther regained consciousness, or that was rather not him, but his soul, and found himself lying in on a marble ground. He pushed himself up to stand straight up, and in the meantime, discovered that he was standing amidst the clouds. Looking at himself once more, Uther was rather amazed to see that his body had become ethereal, as light as the air itself, and his war hammer was missing as well as his shining silver armor, leaving to be dressed in the formal court garment that he used to wear upon meeting the King in non-military occasions. Uther was obviously standing in another plain, presumably heaven, for the clouds and the pure marble ground were rather unearthly and holy. The old warrior, now having stood up firmly on his feet, began to look around and investigate the place.

The court he was on turned out to be a large throne room, decorated with Corinthian style pillars and large, elaborate statues of warriors standing in posture and decorated with golden plates and shields. As Uther moved further up the throne room, the deceased paladin realized he was not there alone. On the throne room sat a figure shining with a golden halo, with three pairs of outstretched wings laced with gold and silver, dressed in a white robe inside a golden plate mail, though much more elaborate and carefully decorated than the armors the statues had the luck to be decorated in. He had obviously been observing the Paladin since he started to wriggle and stand up. Now, upon seeing the old Paladin approaching, the figure gave a kind smile, like that of a father to a son, and signaled the Paladin to come closer.

Now the throne was only about twenty steps away from Uther the Lightbringer, or rather his soul, and he was able to recognize the figure on it. He was Supreme Seraph Tyrael, one of God's mot trusted archangels and Heaven's most decorated generals, as well as a sympathetic force for humanity, one who had been known to be lending the Paladins the help they needed to do the impossibilities such as bringing the dead back to life. Uther suddenly shuddered at the thought. Did the Supreme Seraph call on him himself? It was a great honor to be if that was true. Thinking so, Uther continued moving towards the Seraph.

When he was about ten steps away from the Seraph, Uther decided that it would be violating to keep coming closer, and thus stopped, bowed down to the archangel to await further commands.

"Very good, Uther" the archangel started speaking, in a very resounding and holy voice, even more so than most other angels "you have finally come round, I suggest"

"Yes, sire" the old paladin answered, still bowing low

"You may stand up now, warrior" the archangel spoke kindly, signaling the paladin to stand up

"Yes, sire" Uther answered, straightening himself up, and as soon as he had, the archangel spoke again

"Uther the Lightbringer, you have come a very long way in promoting and championing the Light and Justice, as well as keeping the peace among your people. You are indeed a great warrior amongst your people"

"No, sire" Uther answered humbly, his eyes filled with sorrow as he bent down in regret "I… have failed them. I should never have started training the spoiled prince Arthas in the first place. And even now he is tormenting his people… his OWN people to serve his own demonic will…"

"It is destiny, Uther" Archangel Tyrael said sympathetically "The kingdom of Lordaeron is fated to be doomed, or at least ravaged, in the hand of it own prince. The Order of the Silver Hand that you have founded has been largely effective in combating the evil in the past decades, Uther, for that I can congratulate you. But still, its time is coming to an end, and I am afraid, Uther, that your followers can do much less than stopping Arthas, let alone the catastrophe that he is bringing about…"

"But, sire, is there any way he can be stopped? Is there any way by which my people may be freed? I couldn't stop Arthas the last time I face him… I didn't have the power to"

"And that is why you are here, Uther. This is the Hall of the Fallen Heroes you are in now. It is rather… depressing to inform you that you are no longer alive to stop Arthas with your own might" the Seraph continued, and then his voice toned up a bit "However, as you can see, Uther, the reason why I have chosen to see you myself is not just to inform you of your death, but rather is to give you another direction… another way to save your people"

Upon hearing that, Uther's heart felt as if it had been freed of a huge load, and the old paladin's eyes brightened up

"Sire, please pardon me for my impatience, but what is that I can do to save my people? What should I do to free them from this hell on earth?"

"Destiny has got its own way to solve all problems of humanity" the Seraph said with a smile "but yes, it is true that without special heroes and special weapons, such monstrosities as Arthas cannot be put an end to effectively"

"Sire, so what should I do?"

"Now, Uther, if you can see, God has prepared three weapons for humanity in such times of peril" the seraph continues, waving his hand in a fill circle, and out of nowhere, three artifacts slowly materialized and descent on the ground in front of Uther.

Uther took a glance at the three newly materialized items lying on the ground, and was immediately seized by amazement for their beauty and elegance. One of those was a long blade, with golden handle and guardpiece, and whose silver blade was giving out an unearthly golden light that seemed to blur and blind all those who beheld it. Another was a large silver sledge hammer, maybe twice larger than the type Uther was comfortable with, and whose edge was further enforced by alternating bolts of electricity-like energy, giving it a somewhat godly look. But all the wonders lay within the third weapon, which was a rapier. Its beauty and elegance was unmatched- the entire sword was made of pure gold imbued with concentrated holy energy, the power of which far exceeded the capacity of even the most intense Holy Light beam that the Paladins of the Order of the Silver Hand often utilize to bash their foul enemies. Maybe even looking at the blade was deadly to the undead, for the energy it gave out was so great that as Uther beheld its great power, he felt as if holy energy was overflowing his now-ethereal body. Those three weapons were still laying there, each giving out its own light, and the beam of light created by the three working in unison was too blinding to look directly at. After some time observing those miraculous artifacts with great amazement, Uther finally was able to break his own silence

"Sire, may I ask you something?"

"Go ahead, Uther" the angel smiled kindly

"With such intense power, they may easily defeat Arthas, but… who may be able to wield them?" Uther asked anxiously

"Ah, good question, Uther" the Seraph replied "Now that is also what I would ask you to do"

The archangel then left his throne and walked up to the weapons he had just manifested. Picking up the blazing long sword, Archangel Tyrael explained

"This blade is called Radiance, one forged with the flame of the Sun itself. This is what makes it virtually unbreakable as well as possessing unique powers. Like the Sun, it burns brightly in the hand of the wielder, blurring all those who would want to assault him, and simultaneously incinerate those defiant enemies with the heat drawn directly from the solar flame"

Then he moved to the sledge hammer, lifting it up as a demonstration

"This hammer, Mjolnir, used to be wielded by a deity, but since his demise, the hammer has never been used once more, and since then no one could fully command it, for it has the power to call up fierce thunderstorms and killer lightning bolts to smite those who stand in the way of its wielder"

The archangel stopped for a while in front of the third weapon, before finally picking it up and pointed it upwards

"Now Uther, listen carefully as this weapon is the most important of them all. This rapier is called the Divine Rapier, and glory be with the one entrusted with the edge, for God Himself has created this weapon. Unlike the other weapons that I have shown you, this one is very special, for it can grant a mortal the power that far exceeds that of an ordinary angel. Only one who is extremely worthy, one with a kind and pure heart as well as an unearthly fighting prowess can hope to utilize this blade and possess the angelic power"

"Understood, sire" Uther replied, but then his voice all of a sudden clouded up in disappointment "But, sire, holy as those divine weapons are, who may use them? After all, what use are weapons of when no one can use them at all?"

"Now, Uther, that is your mission" the archangel smiled, and then explained further "According to destiny, Arthas Menethil and the Lich King shall both be slain by the power of those weapons, and the people who shall wield them are three"

"Who are they, sire?" Uther asked impatiently

"The sword Radiance shall be wielded by the swordswoman Lyndis of the plains of Sacae, the great hammer Mjolnir shall be comfortable in the hands of the great lord Hector of the land of Ostia, and finally and most importantly, the Divine Rapier shall be brandished by the knight general Eliwood of the principality of Pherae, and shall be the weapon that will finish Arthas once and for all. That is the dictation of fate"

"Sacae… Ostia… Pherae…" Uther said in confusion "Please excuse me, but I have never heard of those lands before, sire"

"Of course you haven't, Uther, for those are the landmarks of the continent of Elibe… in another world."

"So… Does that mean I have to come to that world, find them and tell those warriors they are the chosen one, sire?"

"Not exactly, Uther" The archangel patiently explained "For they also have another fate… their world is also undergoing a crisis never seen before, and they can't help it but save their world first. What you have to do is to accompany them in their travels, giving them what help you can and then tell them the dictation of fate at the right time. Only then shall they be given the weapons of God and fulfill their destiny. Your job shall be to act as a guide to those heroes and reveal to them no more than they should know"

"So, in order to do this job… I shall be resurrected, shan't I, sire?" Uther asked

"Not really resurrection, Uther, for your two devoted followers, Aurius the Seeker and Agramand the Truthbearer have incinerated your remains to avoid it being further defiled by the undead. You'll have to use another body to get there"

"Yes, sire… I'll find no problem in that" Uther replied

"Now, in order to help you as much as I can, I have come to an independent decision. This time only, I'll give you a present, which is what Time has taken away from you. Uther the Lightbringer, you shall be present in Elibe with the body you used to have 50 years ago, as a bright youth with both strength and wit"

Uther was overjoyed upon hearing that. He immediately bowed down to thank the archangel.

"I thank you, sire, I promise I will give up my life in order to bring the forecasting of fate into reality"

"Just one more thing, Uther" the Seraph suddenly turned stern "You must never, I repeat, never ever show anyone your true identity as a Paladin of Lordaeron, as well as informing anyone at all of the existence of Lordaeron, until the time comes. If you should fail to do this, not only shall Lordaeron never have redemption, but you will also suffer from eternal torment from within your soul for failing your people, even though you may as well be granted a place in Heaven"

"Yes, sire" Uther bowed down "I swear it"

"Alright then, Uther the Lightbringer, it's high time you should go. Now, you shall be teleported to Elibe shortly in the new younger body of yours. To give you a final hint, I advise that you adopt yourself a new name… Uther Lightblade, I suppose… and a new set of identity. You should do this yourself, but I'd highly suggest your being a tactician of sort"

Stopping for a while as if giving Uther the time to think over it again, the archangel continued

"And now, I hope you are all set, Uther"

Then the Seraph drew his golden sword waved it a few rounds overhead, chanting some phrases, and finally pointed the sword at Uther. The blade glowed brightly, and it seemed that all what the Seraph was waiting for was Uther's word of readiness.

"I am ready, sire" Uther said firmly "For my people, IT SHALL BE DONE!!!"

A blinding ray of light then shot out from the tip of the archangel's sword, and the old paladin felt himself dissipating. A new journey opens up for the paladin… in order to save those things he loved.