A sword by any other name

In 1023E, Lady Arlington fought in the siege of Tsar and the subsequent Righteous March. She disappeared, along with Zelkor and the rest of the March.
In On the 360th day of 1789E, Lady Arlington returned, having been warped into a greater demon. She was defeated by The Great Downward, and presumably found peace. Pharasma is just in her judgement, and judges people on their intent, rather than their actions. It fairly certain that she found her way to Mitra's side, and will defend the Seven Heavens with her strength and her will.
Her sword on the other hand lay upon the field at Greyton. The blade was twisted and corrupted as Arlington herself was, but there was no doubt that this was a sword of Muir's champion. Muir (since her death) has been unable to ordain new champions. Instead, hopefuls seek out the swords of previous champions, as well a their mortal remains. The deceased champion (called a Sword-Saint) is contacted via a divine ceremony, and the sword-saint, (if they find the candidate acceptable) canonizes the new champion before journeying to heaven themselves. 
This process is flawed in many respects, most notably because the number of champion swords are finite (and not immune to being destroyed or melted down). Champions too had a habit of dying in far off, dangerous places, making the ceremony something more akin to an endurance test than a simple vigil. More than a few graves of Sword Saints are used to lure young paladins to their deaths. The sword-saints in those tombs are not living, but nor can they pass on while their essence lingers.
Someone (possibly Shades or Snooks) decided the sword should be given to Lady Kingsley, at least for now. At some point, the combination of the sword and Arlington's corpse could be used to ordain a new Champion. After the second wave of undead and demons were defeated, the sword was swiftly transported back to the Church of the Fallen Sword (the irony went under appreciated at the time).
Lady Kingsley was weakened to the point of being unable to stand, but managed a smile when the sword was brought to her. 
"St Jerome of Amorissia" she said, studying the inscription. "Later that place would be called Amoreen. This sword is from the 4th age, although it was probably one of the last to be made"
"Should we cleanse it? Bathe it in holy water?" asked the elderly Thyrian Priest Eldruin "I am sure there's a ceremony or an incantation we could find"
"No" said Kingsley firmly "it has work to do first"
Lady Kingsley gripped the hilt of the sword, her hand and arm instantly turning grey from the force of the negative energy held in the corrupted blade. Eldruin began to speak, but changed his mind when he saw color rush to Kingsley's face, and her body seemed to inflate as her atrophied muscles restored themselves. Her slow descent into weakness unraveled before his eyes, and within moments, she had transformed from a frail, dying woman into someone that just looked a bit off-color. She stood, although she held onto the edge of the chair to maintain her balance.
"Is that wise?" Eldruin offered carefully
"The blade is corrupted, but it still holds its divine essence. It is not my blade, nor is the essence pure, but it will sustain me for now." Looking at Eldruin's puzzled expression, she continued "Champions of the Lady give up a little of our own mortality, in exchange for a little of the divine contained within the blade. Apart, we both weaken. Together, we are stronger than either. Now, I've sat in that chair too long. I'm going to Greyton, where I may be of some use"
"Is that wise?" asked Eldruin repeated gently. "Is that safe?"
Kingsley smiled broadly, and flexed her sword arm. "Wise is my Lady's sister. Safe is my Lady's brother. No, my dear friend, this is battle."