Chapter 1
A Girl from the Plains
For how long Uther had remained unconscious after the Lightbringer got hit by the Supreme Seraph's Blade Beam, he himself didn't know for certain. It seemed to him that he had been unconscious for a very long time… maybe even months and years. His sleep had, as he could think about it, broken the barrier of time and space. Having experienced many battles, magic of both friends and foes, things that could go so far as shatter one's body into atomic bits or bringing those having died for a long time back to life, had been a commonplace to the old Paladin, but this was nothing like any of the spells that either the orcs or humans used to cast. Perhaps it was because this time he had no material body to feel the impact of the spell that the archangel had cast. Or it was rather because the Supreme Seraph had been trying to… push his soul into a new body, a procedure known to be at least ten times harder than resurrecting the dead, which was the hardest and most remarkable deed a Paladin of the Order of the Silver Hand could ever think about doing. It took the Paladin so long to reach his destination that, for a tad bit of time, he literally forgot completely that his slumber was not natural in the first place.
In any case, the Paladin finally got up, and when he did, he was obviously not where he used to be… not in Lordaeron. Instead of the usual gold-laced, Stormwind-made bed in the Capital City that he would expect himself to wake up in as per normal, Uther found himself now lying under several layers of thin blankets on a small mattress. The old warrior twitched and turned a few rounds before finally opened his eyes widely to look around him.
What a surprise!
He was observing with his very eyes the interior of a rather nomadic tent, which brought back bad memories, as Lordaeron rarely saw any nomads, with the common exception of… orcs, those who Uther would hate to see himself facing without having a war hammer and a Paladin spellbook with a chain included ready for action. However, this time Uther had had a completely different experience, for all around him he could not smell the dreadful taste of blood, like all orc camps used to possess due to the excessive amount of uncured trophies made from human corpses they use to keep. Instead, there was the sharp, but sweet, scent of some exotic flowers. The way everything was decorated gave Uther the unsatisfactory feeling that he was laying on forbidden ground… that he was in a girl's room…
"Are you awake?" a sudden, but rather soft, girlish voice sounded, cutting off Uther's chains of thoughts
Uther's heart nearly jumped out of his chest. In front of him stood a gorgeous teal-haired young lady, dressed in strange greenish nomadic style clothing with a sheathed katana strapped to her side and carrying a tray of all the stuffs you can think about giving to a patient having been injured. The Lightbringer could swear he had never seen anyone prettier than that in his life, and that meant even the lovely young mage called Jaina Proudmoore that Arthas used to stick around with. "But you are the LIGHTBRINGER, Uther!" the paladin could barely keep calm "You must never let things like this get on your mind". Finally, when he had been able to calm himself down, the paladin sighed and closed his eyes again "I'm getting too old for this" he thought.
"Yeah, I guess I'm fine now" Uther started, and as soon as the words escaped his lips, the old Paladin could no longer believe his ears. His voice had totally changed overnight! Now he sounded more like he used to about fifty-odd years ago, about at the time of the Second War when he was still fighting alongside the late hero Lord Anduin Lothar. His voice now was rather bright and had no further traces of what time had done to him.
"And… where am I?" Uther asked in great wonder
"I found you unconscious on the plains" the young girl replied "Don't worry, you are safe now"
"It seems that I do owe you my life" Uther stated "Could I ask you for your name?"
"Yes, of course. I am Lyn, of the Lorca tribe" the girl answered "What is your name then? Can you remember anything?"
"Ah, yes, I am Uther. Uther the Lightbr- I mean, Lightblade." Uther replied. As a matter of habit, the paladin was about to give a whole speech about his being Uther the Lightbringer, Grandmaster of the Order of the Silver Hand, Regent of Lordaeron and Lord Commander of the Royal Army of Lordaeron when the Seraph Tyrael's words struck his mind, reminding him that it was then not yet the time and place to reveal his true identity.
"Uther Lightblade? That's a rather… odd name" the girl replied "But pay me no mind. It's a good name"
"Okay then" Uther said "Could I ask you for a small favor?"
"Yes, Uther, is there anything I can do for you?"
"Hmm… could I borrow one of your… let's say, mirrors for a little while?"
"Oh, yes… Alright, that's no problem" Lyn said heartily "I'm getting you one"
As Lyn left the room, Uther was alone for a short while to start dwelling on his own thoughts. "What am I saying?" Uther realized in horror "Asking a girl for a mirror? If my soldiers… my fellow paladins hear of this, what shall become of Uther the Lightbringer's reputation?" But Uther couldn't help it. The Seraph Tyrael had previously told him that he had granted him young age in order to complete his quest. He simply had to find out if the archangel had kept his promise or not. And it seemed that he had, for Uther had, upon hearing his own voice, realized that he should be up to fifty years younger than his real age now. What he needed was just a mirror to confirm the fact.
A few minutes later, Lyn returned to the bed with a small hand mirror in her left hand. She handed Uther the mirror and then gave a small smile as Uther took the mirror. Just waiting for that, the old Paladin lifted his back and looked at his own face's reflection from the little devil. The poor old paladin nearly jumped off the bed looking at himself. And he had good reasons to, as in the mirror, the face time had forced him to forget for about fifty years had finally returned! In front of him now was a bright young twenty-year-old Uther of the Second War, with nice long strands of gold hair and absolutely no wrinkles of his age, as food as his old muscles had vanished in favor of newer, rejuvenated ones. And for god's sake, his well loved suit of beard and moustache that he took great pride in had had also vanished without a trace. It so happened that the Seraph had kept his promise, which is generally speaking a good thing, except for some minor snags, like there was now no reason for the devout paladin to refer to himself as 'old', which naturally discarded his "I'm getting too old for this" comment.
"Uhh… excuse me, Uther, but what was wrong?"
"Ah, nothing at all" Uther replied, trying to keep himself calm "I was just trying to see if I was… intact after all what happened"
"You are, that is as far as I know" Lyn gave one of those girlish sniggers on impulse, but then suddenly turned serious again "So, Uther, I see from your attire that you are a traveler. Are you a merchant or something? No one else wear your kind of clothing and go to Sacae at this time of the year"
"Oh, holy father who art in Heaven! Archangel Tyrael, for one last time, I am a proud paladin of Lordaeron! And me…a merchant?" Uther thought frantically, but quickly got his mind back "And… wait a second, didn't you tell me I should claim to be a tactician? Well, it seemed that I have no choice… So I'll be a tactician from now on. Uther Lightblade the tactician, huh? Not a bad title after all"
"Okay, so I happen to be a tac…"
Uther never could finish his sentence, for before he had the chance to, the tent was surrounded with sounds of shouting people and clashing metal, presumably of weapons. The instinct of a warrior having outlived two great wars immediately told Uther that something was wrong. It seemed that the woman beside him also got that kind of a feeling, as she immediately jumped out of her seat, looking very urgent.
"Hmm? What was that noise? I'll go see what is happening." The girl spoke clearly and confidently as if giving out an order "Uther, wait here for me"
Before the Lightbringer could further react, the smartly dressed young lady leaped over the heap of stuffs on the floor, landing at the tent's exit, and took a glance out quickly. It didn't take long before she turned back with an extremely serious face and a flaring pair of eyes
"Oh no! Bandits!" she cried out softly "They must have come down from the Bern Mountains! They must be planning on raiding the local villages!"
Uther, as a matter of habit, stretched out his right hand searching for his war hammer and his spellbook, only to realize that he did not come to the place as a paladin, but rather as a supposedly unarmed and unarmored non-combatant. The paladin sighed. If it was the hammer-wielding Uther the Lightbringer that was there, equipped with his ever trusted blessed hammer and holy spellbook, no bandits could ever think about getting past him without getting their skulls bashed in, or even worse. In the older time, Uther had even recalled an encounter with a gang of bandits who actually dropped arms and surrendered to the Lordaeron Army as soon as they heard Lord Uther was out there commanding the army.
But this was not the time to o so any more. According to Supreme Seraph Tyrael, Uther was not to get armed and fight like a Silver Hand Paladin at the wrong time or his people would suffer from the dire consequences. And as Uther never knew a moment in his life that he forgot to put on Divine Shield before going to battle, it would be very unlikely that he will remember not todo so this time, and which would be the worst thing that could happen to him, not to mention the whole of Lordaeron. Thinking it over, Uther decided to stay put and pretend to have no knowledge of martial arts whatsoever.
"I… I have to stop them! If that is all of them, I think I can handle them on my own" Lyn said confidently "You'll be safe in here, Uther"
"I shall give you a hand if you allow" the warrior self of the Lightbringer voiced itself, and Uther found himself uttering those words
"You want to help? Can you use a weapon?" Lyn asked
For a second, Uther wished he had not said so. Without the war hammer… without the spellbook… without the PERMISSION to use Divine Shield and the like, Uther was as good as trashed. However, as quick-witted as Uther was, the wise paladin quickly found himself a way out of the sticky situation. As the Seraph suggested, he was now a tactician, and a good tactician he shall be.
"I am a tactician by trade, milady." Uther declared "If you'd allow me, I shall give you some sound pieces of advice to aid you in combat"
"You are a tactician?" Lyn said, her eyes trying to conceal curiosity "What an odd profession, but… very well, we shall go together"
"What the hell am I saying?" Uther mumbled silently "Well… wait, aren't I a decorated general of the Kingdom of Lordaeron and the leader of the Paladins of the Order of the Silver Hand? Leading an army is my instinct!" Thinking so, Uther took a deep breath, pushed himself out of the mattress, and looked at his 'savior' confidently
"Ready when you are" he said, putting up a good smile.
The battle ended quickly, and all what was left of the bandits were two fresh corpses. In any sense, the band of bandits numbered even less than the Lordaeron Royal Family before the Scourge of Lordaeron, if Uther was to count himself into it. What happened was that Lyn was able to bring one bandit down not breaking a sweat, and then, with a stroke of good luck, without which she would have lost her life, defeated the second. Uther barely directed her to do anything, for the moment Lyn entered the battlefield, she raged across it like a mindless berserker, and for at least once Uther had to hold his breath, for she had put herself into great risk in her own rage, which is nothing good for a warrior in battle.
"Far too reckless" the ex-paladin thought "If that weren't bandits she was fighting but the Scourge…Well, I just hope if there is a day we can come back to Lordaeron, I won't have to command soldiers as overly daring as this"
The battle, however, was in fact over, and the young teal-haired lady was the victor. After the young lady had cut down the last bandit, an overconfident and boastful axe wielder who called himself Batta the Beast, wiped the bloodied sweat drops off her face, sheathed her iron katana and tucked away several strands of loose hair back in place, she made her way back to where Uther the Lightbringer was standing.
"I'm sorry" She said between breaths "I… sorely underestimated him"
"I know" Uther said, both sympathetically and sternly "In real combat… I mean, one with two armies setting up a full scale battlefield ready for a massive onslaught against each other, you know… you'd have been slain. You had better mend that"
"Uhm… Did I worry you?" Lyn asked, rather embarrassed after taking the old paladin's lecture "If so, I am sorry…"
"You'd have to do a lot more to perfect yourself" Uther said gently "And not endangering your own life"
"Yes… you're right…" Lyn said "I'll need to be stronger if I want to survive in this world… strong enough that no one can defeat me…"
Uther didn't admit it, but he did frown at the sound of what the girl called Lyn had just said. "To be strong enough that no one can defeat her?" What was that pinching in the bottom of his heart that the paladin was feeling? It was certainly not sympathy… never for that kind of speech. Remembering one year ago, when Arthas himself uttered something likewise about taking revenge for his people killed by the Scourge, Uther knew outright that he was going the wrong way. Having lived for that long, the Lightbringer knew just too well that plain rage and hatred would lead a person nowhere.
"I haven't known you enough yet" the paladin replied "but to say frankly, you shouldn't think that way…"
"You don't have to say any further" Lyn interrupted him in mild resentment "We children of the plains have our own way of getting things sorted out"
The paladin gave out a sigh of dismay. A veteran like him… three wars, ten thousand soldiers and thirty paladins under his command had been a record not many in Azeroth could hope to match, except for maybe the legendary Lothar. And there was now a girl defying his fondest advice? "Maybe my time is over" Uther pictured in his mind. In his old days… Yes, in his glorious days, he could even cut down Orcish Blademasters and Witch Doctors in great numbers with ease. And now he had to leave the business of dealing with a tiny group of bandit to a little girl barely the age of his granddaughter (Note: Uther the Lightbringer had no granddaughters) What's worse, at one time she even told Uther to run away if she falls in battle, and to say frankly, the greatest humiliation to a Paladin of the Silver Hand is retreating while someone else fight- and probably die- for him. That was why it was no surprise when the final blow was struck; Uther felt a load had just been taken off his heart. But the young girl's defiant comment had replaced the small weight in his heart with another, rather larger and heavier one. "Blind hatred turns a man very quickly into a beast. Arthas was there as an example"
The duo spent some time burying the dead, digging up a good hole and dumping the corpses of the two bandits down it. Having fought many battles, witnessed much death, even that of those he respect, like Lord Anduin Lothar or King Terenas Menethil and buried those he even considered his children, Uther had grown used to it. He wondered if his companion was alight after having slain those two robbers. And to his surprise, she was. The way she tossed the bandits' dead bodies into the grave showed more despise than one of her age could probably have. And the sight of that action had troubled Uther even further.
Before Uther knew it, darkness had drawn in, and the biological clock of an old man told Uther that it was time to get a good night's rest. Furthermore, it seemed that the paladin hadn't fully gotten used to his new body yet. Surely, it was everyone's dream to get younger than their age, but such a sudden change had been dramatic enough to make Uther feel uncomfortable moving around with the rejuvenated vigor of a youth. "Maybe a good sleep would solve it all" he thought.
It turned out that going to sleep would pose some serious problems to the Lightbringer according to three principles of the paladins of the Silver Hand. Firstly, paladins do not ask for more than they deserve. Secondly, paladins do not share a room, or a tent, with someone of the opposite sex. And thirdly, paladins always reserve the best conditions to women, children, the weak and the elderly. Politely, he asked Lyn to let him sleep outside, and his extreme persistence finally won him a mattress outside the nomad tent to spend the night.
It was finally time for Uther's nightly prayer. The old paladin had made it a habit to pray to the Holy Spirit of the Light every night before going to sleep. However, that night was by no means normal, in all senses. Thinking so, the paladin decided to alter the wording of the prayer a bit. "Holy father who art in heaven" Uther prayed silently "Please forgive this believer if he has done, or thought, something wrong, and please forgive this young lady if she had done anything against the Will of the Light". Looking up the sky, Uther the Lightbringer sighed, and hoped that his pleads would somehow reach the Higher Heaven and the Divine God, who would always be there to shield and cover all believers. Then, the paladin figure lay down on the mattress, and the now-tactician closed his eyes closely.
The night was calm and peaceful to the Lordaeron Paladin, who, since the beginning of the Scourge of Lordaeron, had never been able to enjoy a good night. Uther's last memory of a well spent night was that of the day when Arthas and Jaina went on their first date. Since that day, nights were spent not sleeping, but rather slumbering, the cleric knight's dream filled with strange images and sounds, of people being poisoned, slashed, mowed down and turned into mindless abominations, of villages annihilated, of communities eradicated, of whole regions wiped out, of deluges of blood flooding the human kingdom the old paladin had strived so hard to build and protect… The people of Lordaeron had been crying for help, and the old warrior was yet to be able to help them. The righteous warrior had been plagued by such things for too long yet, that now the stalwart Lightbringer could not resist the notion of a night amongst the cool breeze of the plains. With the wording of the prayer still echoing in his head, Uther the Lightbringer sank into a deep sleep, hoping for a better day to come…