A/N: My first story on here. Tell me how you think I'm writing. I'd love constructive criticism in the reviews. If you just want to say that you liked it or hated it, go ahead. You don't need to offer criticism. But please review.

Disclaimer: I do not own the rights to Avatar: The Last Airbender, The Last Airbender, or any of the characters or situations therein. All intellectual property (with the exception of this story) belongs to Nickelodeon and any other copyright holders.

Lotus Seed

Chapter 1:
The Call

The lookouts at the wall of the rebuilt city of the Southern Water Tribe hadn't seen much action since the post was created three months ago. With the war ended and the Three Nations at peace with each other, there was not much need for them in the first place, but Chief Hakoda had been adamant that the Southern Tribe not let its guard down. For Keto, a seasoned veteran assigned as one of the two main lookouts, this meant his was one of the most boring jobs in the city. What's more, he had been saddled with an inexperienced younger warrior named Godun, who gave him no end of trouble. Thankfully, he could afford to spend most of his shifts dozing in the snow, as he was doing now.

"Keto, look!" The words shocked the young guard to alertness. The beautiful girls of his daydreams would have to wait: the lookouts had a situation on their hands. His partner Godun hadn't said a word on watch all week, so it had to be important. Keto felt a slight rush of adrenaline as he grabbed his wolf helmet and bow and rushed to the top of the icy lookout tower on the outer wall of the Southern Water Tribe to join Godun, who was pointing frantically to the horizon. "What? What is it?" Keto shouted, scanning the ocean. But Godun merely grinned. "That iceberg's been getting closer all week!" he said, bursting into laughter halfway through. "I think you should spear it, just to be safe."

For a second, Keto contemplated murder.

But this was not the first of the younger warrior's inane, obnoxious pranks he had endured, and it wouldn't be the last. "To the deep with you," he swore, rolling his eyes. "I'm getting back to my nap." As he began the descent, he heard Godun's laughter cease abruptly. "Keto, there's someone out there!"

Keto continued to climb down. "Shut up, Godun. It was stupid the first time; it's not gonna be funny a second time." But Godun persisted. "I'm not joking! There's a boat out there, and it's not Water Tribe!" Groaning, Keto ascended once more and looked out on the horizon. And then he perked up. Sure enough, a small, long, black shape was slowly approaching. Godun was staring at it through his spyglass. "Give me that, you idiot," Keto growled, swiping it from him and holding it to his eye. Godun was right. It was a canoe. And it carried one lone figure. It was wrapped entirely in black, with wrappings over its face and a hood over its head.

"Sound the alert. We have an unidentified boat approaching." Keto's voice was humorless, almost mechanical. Godun didn't need to be told twice. He simply nodded and raised his siren horn to his mouth.

The man in the canoe furrowed his brow as he heard the high, clear call of the siren horn. It almost sounded like a human voice singing: "Ooooooo…" but despite the soothing noise, he knew it meant the Water Tribesmen would be wary of him. However, he did not change course, stop, or even flinch at the sound; he merely continued rowing the small boat towards the shore and the gates. He knew that he would leave the place unharmed. He had nothing to fear.

The great icy gates slid open as he approached, in a way that could only be accomplished by Waterbending; he suspected Master Pakku was not the only Waterbender that had left the North Pole, and it appeared he was correct. He couldn't help but gaze up at the sheer size of the wall. It had been mere months since the end of the war, and the Southern Tribe had rebuilt this much already… then again, he supposed Waterbending could do that when your buildings were made of ice.

As the newcomer's boat approached the docks, a small contingency of guards, led by Keto, approached. "Get out of the boat," Keto commanded. "Who are you and what do you want?"

The man obeyed and stepped onto the wooden dock, rising to his full height as he did. He was somewhat tall, and Keto couldn't see much bulk to him, but he did see the man's eyes, and any doubt of the man's strength went out the window. They were wrinkled with age and sadness, and he looked at them so calmly, his amber eyes slowly drifting from one warrior to the next.

And then it hit Keto: he had amber eyes. He was Fire Nation.

"Who am I and what do I want?" the man repeated, his voice raspy, yet powerful. It seemed as if his voice crafted his words with loving care the way a blacksmith crafts his tools, pouring emphasis, weight and meaning into each and every one. The effect was to make him seem like a character from a play: some sort of larger-than-life figure. "Isn't that the question? I've wondered that myself many a time. You should ask yourself the same: who are you? And, what do you want? To know the answers to these questions is to have taken the first step towards a life truly at peace with yourself. But I'm no enemy, if that's what you're really asking. I'm here to hurt no one."

Godun, spear in hand, stepped forward. "We'll be the judges of that. You're coming with us." He reached out to grab the man's shoulder, and Keto started back as, quick as lightning, the figure grabbed Godun's wrist, twisted it behind his back, and pushed him away with an open palm, causing the rookie soldier to fall over in the midst of his comrades. Keto's eyes widened. The sweeping motions of the man's arms, the quick, powerful palm strike, and the overall flair of the movements were familiar to him. They looked like Firebending.

"I can walk by myself, thank you very much," the said calmly as the rest of the warriors pointed spears at him. He rolled his eyes. "I swear. I'm a friend." He pulled the hood down and uncovered his face. His grey hair was tied up in a topknot and around his mouth was a mustache and goatee. None of the soldiers knew or recognized him, but if they did know who he was, they would have escorted him like an honor guard. "I am Master Piandao of the Fire Nation, who taught the way of the sword to Sokka. I need to talk to him."

The crackling fire in the center of the large igloo acted as its only source of light. As it flickered and burned, it cast three shadows on the walls: those of Fire Lord Zuko, Avatar Aang, and Sokka, son of the chief of the Southern Water Tribe. The three of them sat in a circle, their eyes closed. To an outside observer, they would appear to be deep in meditation. After a long silence, the Fire Lord opened his eyes and turned to Sokka to speak of their important business. And important it was…

"Would you rather… make out with my sister… or yours?"

…important to a group of teenaged boys being teenaged boys, that is.

Aang's eyes widened and he watched Sokka intently. "Wow, that's a good one, Zuko," he commented. "I almost feel sorry for him now," he grinned evilly.

Sokka glared at Zuko, simply responding with, "I hate you." He scratched his chin thoughtfully. Neither of those options seemed… well, remotely bearable. "Okay, so, pros about making out with Azula: Admittedly, your sister was pretty hot… y'know, for a sadistic psychopath. Cons: She'd probably bite my tongue off and then somehow torture me with it. Pros about-" he shuddered slightly- "kissing my sister: She's ever so slightly less likely to bite my tongue off and then somehow torture me with it. Cons: well, first off, eww, second, I'd have both her and the Avatar trying to kill me afterwards, and third, eww. Yeah, I'm gonna go ahead and let my tongue take one for the team here. Azula."

Aang laughed and slapped his knees. At that, Sokka's eye twitched. Aang was enjoying the game far too much. Sokka decided that it was time for the world's savior to get some heat. "All right, laughing boy, your turn," he said as a pair of downright cruel situations formed in his head. "Would you rather lick—"

But whatever horrors Sokka had in mind the other boys never discovered, because at that exact moment a Water Tribe warrior appeared at the entrance to the igloo. It was Keto. "Sorry to interrupt your meeting, sirs," he said, his eyes falling on Sokka, "but there is a man here who wishes to see you. He says his name is Piandao."

The three of them exchanged surprised glances, and Sokka's face broke out into a toothy grin. "Let him in!" he shouted, as they all got to their feet.

Keto nodded; he was visibly relieved at the confirmation that the man was who he said he was. Keto was already getting nervous: Piandao had this air of... power... to him. He was terrified of the thought of having to fight the man. He poked his head out of the tent and waved him in.

Sokka's face fell as his master entered the room. Piandao looked different somehow. His hair was grayer, and he seemed at least ten years older than he had been the last time Sokka saw him. After they greeted him with the traditional Fire Nation salute, Sokka asked, "Master... what happened?"

Piandao looked directly into Sokka's eyes. "I assume you're talking about my appearance. I've been pretty busy recently. I've been under a lot of stress, and it seems it's begun to take a toll on me." His eyes, however, conveyed another message: not now; later. "It's good to see you two again. And this must be the new Fire Lord. It's an honor to be in your presence, your majesty. I am Master Piandao." He knelt and kowtowed before Zuko.

"But—" Zuko began, but stopped himself. They had met before, and Piandao knew that. But what stopped him was a memory of the day they met.

Zuko had nothing but questions for the members of the Order of the White Lotus on the eve of Sozin's Comet. But so very many of them had been deflected by the old men, and no one in the camp with the exception of the old masters would even talk to them. Finally, he had settled on waiting in his uncle's tent until it was time for him to leave for the capital. His uncle was meditating, a few sticks of incense burning in front of him. In his hands he held his White Lotus Pai Sho tile. Zuko hesitated to break Iroh's trance. But finally, his curiosity got the best of him. "Uncle," he whispered, "what is this, really? What is the Order of the White Lotus, really, and why won't anyone give me a straight answer?"

Iroh breathed deeply, remaining rooted to his spot on the ground. He didn't turn to look at Zuko; in fact, he didn't even open his eyes. "Zuko," he said, slowly, "You must understand. The Order of the White Lotus is old. Its age is truly unfathomable to most. And we have developed many secrets in that long history. Most people go through life never knowing of our existence. And for that we are grateful. But for those that do learn of us, our name, our existence, and at most, our identities, are all that is ever revealed. You are not a member of the Order."

Zuko frowned. "Uncle," he began, "I… I want to join you."

Iroh turned to look at his nephew, love and sadness mixing in his eyes. "I would wish nothing more than to have you join us. But it cannot be. Your destiny lies elsewhere. We do not wish to rule, and we would not have a sovereign among us." Zuko's chest clenched as he thought of what lay ahead for him.

"Zuko, do you trust me?" Iroh asked suddenly.

Zuko was caught off guard be the question. "Yes. I made the mistake of mistrusting you once; I'll never do it again."

Iroh sighed. "Then promise me one thing."

Zuko nodded. "Of course. Anything."

Iroh shook his head. "This will be hard for you. Not at first, perhaps; at least, not for you. For your friends, it will be harder. But over the years, I suspect the thought of doing what I ask will distress you more and more. But it's for the good of the world."

Zuko sat cross-legged across from his uncle. "What is it?"

"None of you can ever tell Avatar Aang of the Order's existence. Ideally, you will not tell a soul, but it is especially vital that the Avatar never know of us. If he asks, you will give him the same story that the others will be told: you did not meet all of us here at the outer wall. I was the only one. And, should I retake Ba Sing Se, you will tell him that it was with an insurgency of Earthbenders that I did so. Masters Pakku, Bumi, Jeong Jeong, and Piandao… None of them were ever here. Promise me this now."

Zuko stared in shock for a second. But finally, he assented. "I swear. I'll never tell him. But I think it might be Katara that you'll have to worry about the most," he added with a small grin.

Zuko smiled pleasantly as Piandao stood back up. "The honor is mine, Master. Sokka has told me a lot about you. I'm happy to finally meet you in person." It all sounded mechanical and excessively polite to Zuko's ears, but he wasn't going to break his promise to his uncle.

Aang stepped forward. "So what have you been doing?" he asked, brimming with curiosity.

"Dealing with Fire Nation troops still loyal to Ozai," Piandao responded. "There are quite a few of them, actually; they've deserted and formed gangs of bandits who terrorize the countryside. I've been teaching small villages and towns how to arm and protect themselves from the soldiers. It's like the story of the Seven Swordsmen, but with one man and seven villages instead of the other way around."

Aang chuckled. "Sounds tough."

The sword master shrugged. "True. But it's working," he assured them with a self-satisfied grin.

Sokka hadn't spent that much time with Piandao, in hindsight, but he had strangely felt a bond with the man after their mere weeks of training. At the very least, he knew the master well enough that he could tell when he was lying. And he was. Stress could explain a little bit more gray hair, but Piandao's aging was far beyond that. There was something else. There had to be. Sokka could see it in Piandao's eyes: there was some lingering worry eating at the Master.

"Do you think I could have a minute to talk to my pupil alone?" Piandao asked Sokka's friends.

"No problem," Aang replied happily, adding, for Sokka's benefit: "I'm gonna go find Katara and find out if she actually bites tongues off." He bowed to Piandao and winked and grinned sadistically at Sokka as he slipped out of the room.

"He hit puberty fast," Zuko commented as the world's savior ran off to make out with his girlfriend. Then he turned to Sokka and Piandao. "I'll leave you two to your business."

Piandao nodded. "Honestly, Fire Lord Zuko… it's good to see you again. And I'm glad everything worked out."

Zuko's face brightened. "It's good to see you too. And thank you. We couldn't have done it without your help." He bowed deeply to Piandao and stepped out.

And then there was silence. The master and his student stood facing each other in the dimly lit room, completely quiet except for the occasional crack of the firewood. Piandao seemed like he was mentally preparing himself for the conversation to come. Sokka, on the other hand, was merely confused.

So, naturally, he was the one to break the silence. "So… how've you been?" he asked, scratching the back of his neck awkwardly.

Piandao sighed. "Things have been difficult, Sokka. The story about the villages… I can tell you don't believe that. Good for you: it's a lie."

"Then what really happened?" Sokka demanded, as any sense of the master-pupil relationship was momentarily forgotten in his concern for Piandao. "I mean, I just saw you, like, a month ago, and you're like ten years older now!" He had gotten animated, pacing around the room and waving his arms around for emphasis. "That's not stress. That's… well, actually, I don't have any clue what that is." He stopped in his tracks, dropped his arms and turned towards his master. "What is it?"

"Simply put, Sokka: I can't tell you." Piandao replied firmly. "Know this: it won't kill me. But…" He trailed off.

"What?" Sokka asked, full of anticipation.

Piandao opened his mouth to speak, but no words came out. Suddenly, the eloquent master was rendered temporarily speechless. Sokka had never seen him like this before. Worry began to eat at Sokka's mind: what bad news could he have? His heart was pounding with anticipation. What Piandao finally uttered was practically anticlimactic.

"Do you still have that Pai Sho tile I gave you?"

Sokka's face fell. The question was so unexpected that Sokka had a hard time thinking about it at first. "W- what?" he stammered. "The… the Pai Sho tile? Uh, yeah. Yeah, I still have it." He was surprised to discover just how disappointed he was that his master didn't have some danger of which to warn him.

Piandao's seemed to notice the change in Sokka's mood, and Sokka could have sworn he saw the corner of the man's mouth turn upward a bit. "I'm going to need you to go get it. But first, I'll tell you why.

"I gave that to you because I saw something in you when we trained. Yes, I knew you were Water Tribe the whole time, but I saw that you showed me honest respect, even though I was technically an enemy. You looked past my nationality and saw me as a person. That's a rare quality in the world these days. And you're extremely good at improvisation in battle and in life. These two qualities in conjunction are very familiar to me. I was… just like that at your age."

Sokka smiled, almost embarrassed, as Piandao went on, turning to pace around the room. "One day, when I was sixteen, a man that I had known for most of my life gave me a White Lotus tile. What he told me, I now tell you." Piandao paused, and inhaled deeply once more.

Sokka began to sweat. Piandao… was here for him… and the tile. Before his master had even begun to recite, his mind balked at what he knew Piandao was about to ask.

"The mud of a lakebed is fertile ground, home to countless plants and animals. Some of these live in or under the mud itself, caring only for the nutrients they can filter from the water. Others swim freely through the lake, exploring and thriving in the world around them. But this world of theirs is ultimately limited. Of all the things that grow in the water, the most blessed is a white lotus. Its roots lie in the mud, but it grows tall and effortlessly through the water, which holds and supports its weight, until it reaches the surface. There, above all its peers in the lake, the lotus blooms into a brilliant flower, serenely existing beyond the touch of all aquatic life.

"Sokka of the Southern Water Tribe, I have placed a lotus seed in your soul, and its symbol in your hands. Will the seed grow? Will you live like a lotus flower, serene and calm, above the illusory division of nations? Will you, through enlightened action, grow beyond the limitations of this world? Will you open your mind like a lotus blossom to the wisdom of the universe? I ask you now: Will you join the Order of the White Lotus?"

Chapter 2 comes soon. Review if you want it to come faster.

Until then... be seeing you!