"Say, son, you ever thought about fighting for something honourable?"

The words appeared from nowhere and hit the ear that was not ringing. Dizziness clouded Zaheer's head; his face was numb with pain save the sting of his bleeding nose. He turned his head, breathing a slight sigh of relief when his neck obeyed with minimal discomfort. A tall figure dressed in indigo and white stood silhouetted in the doorway of his room, shadowed by the master and landlord of the dojo. The old man was inclined to be kind outside of classes. Inside though, his passion for the Bagua Zhang martial art knew no boundary. Zaheer at the age of nineteen would have been considered a prodigy – if he showed up to classes with the other young men. Instead he could often be found practicing alone away from the seminar and later using his new skills prize-fighting arenas. As battered as he was tonight, he was the victor. A cloth sack heavy with dusty pink yuan notes sat on his modest bedside table. At the foot of his bed was a tangle of bloody bandages, but this blood was not his own.

"Master, who's this?" he asked, pinching his nose harder to stem the flow of blood.

"This gentleman is from the White Lotus. He says he saw you…" the angular old man eyed his student's battered face with discontent. "…Street fighting. Again."

Zaheer rolled his eyes as the old man threw a clean, red towel at him for his nose.

"I pay my rent don't I? You're always saying how much you need the money. So, White Lotus? What's that?"

"Zaheer, the White Lotus have been organised by the Avatar and the world leaders he trusts to comprise a regime to help train the next incarnation to be worldly and impartial to corruption from a young age. We are called the Red Lotus and it is our goal to train the next Avatar to follow a better path than the past ones. We need natural born scholars, teachers and leaders to share their priceless life experiences to assure the best possible opportunities. I have been sent to investigate you and report back to determine if you would be a valuable asset to our team. Your name was provided to the world leaders-"

Zaheer gave a little laugh, muted by his blocked nose. The White Lotus agent raised his brows, stalled by his chortle.

"World leaders, you say. I don't see them at the front of their armies. They hide in throne rooms. War is won by soldiers, not kings and queens. They aren't prepared to die for the causes that kill their subjects."

"There are many that are. Chief Sokka and Fire Lord Zuko for example."

Zaheer shook his head, finally satisfied his bleeding had stopped. He sat on the edge of his bed and kicked off his shoes. He just wanted this unexpected guest to leave.

"Those men are leaders because they were fighters. Their survival is the result of their prowess, even though they were born regal. I know ten common boys tempered better by the true disorder of life for each pampered chief on your board of experts. Those boys will live short lives of struggle, but I would rather spend an hour with them than a decade with a prince. You will have to beg my pardon, sir, but I am not who you are looking for."

The agent looked stunned. He had never been refused before, but the content of the young man's speech both alarmed and intrigued him. He had a certain spark all of his recruits shared. It had been the master of the dojo that had caught wind of the search and contacted him. Over tea they had discussed the solitary young man that trained there and the strangeness of his strength. The old master thought him unique, for a young man at least. Calculating, independent and wise in many ways already. Those who knew him called him stubborn, brave or blunt. He simply had to meet him.

"You seem a very interesting young man, maybe a little headstrong. That can be useful. There is greatness in you, Zaheer. I know you're disinterested for now, but I would like to invite you to attend a small gathering of potential Red Lotus members where we will discuss the roll you may take should you agree. I think you will find it very enlightening."

Zaheer did not fear all forms of instruction, he disliked undeserved authority. He hated dictatorship. Zaheer determined his visitor's persistence to be noble in intention to convince him to learn more. He was curious. Could a group of experts really teach another human to understand all systems of the world? Could all systems exist in their own way? In his experience, disorder was the natural order. Life was fragile and change was powerful. Movements rose and fell. No day would ever be a repeat of one that came before it, nor would another afterwards. Could an Avatar fight to maintain such a thing after all this focus on balance?

"This is my card. It has the details of the meeting in three days' time. Six o'clock sharp at the location on the back. Don't be late."

His hand extended towards him holding a stark white card with black brush strokes. Not black, some kind of deep blue purple. An intricate red lotus was stamped on the side in the colour of blood. He looked at it for a few moments with uncertainty.

"I won't be back this way soon. Last chance, son."

The card glistened in the light. The finality of the offer sank into Zaheer's skin. He hesitated, then quickly took the card from the agent's hand.

The man smiled.

"Excellent. I look forward to seeing you there."

The evening of the gathering came quickly. Zaheer changed into his cleanest casual robes. They were plain, practical and uninspiring since he was always disinterested in elaborate clothes. He doubted he would ever wear a uniform. Perhaps tonight would convince him otherwise.

"Before you go," the master said reaching into his bag. He pulled out a book. "I wanted to give you this. You're hard-headed sometimes Zaheer and it limits your capability. This book is filled with mindfulness and meditative techniques. It will help you realise your potential."

"Guru Laghima?" he read aloud from the cover. "I'm not an air bender."

"With your knowledge of Bagua Zhang, this book will still serve you well. Wherever you go with it."

"Thank you, master." Zaheer said with a bow. "Goodbye, sir."

The master bowed equally low.

"Goodbye, Zaheer."

Zaheer passed through the check point without a hitch when he presented the card he was given. The room was set up like a lecture theatre, studded with a blend of faces from all over the world. Each was somewhere between the age of fifteen and thirty, all physically fit and baring the scars of a life of hardship. He locked eyes with a young water tribe man. He nodded, acknowledging him. He nodded back and took a seat. Weird.

The Lotus agent that spoke with Zaheer took the podium next to another similarly dressed man. Everyone took their seats, naturally gathering in ethnicities and city groups. Zaheer sat at the back, keeping his eye on the door. Suddenly, the doors began to close. His hackles rose.

"Now, thank you for joining us tonight." The agent Zaheer recognised said. "First things first, we have a confession to make. We haven't been entirely honest with you. But when you hear our explanation, it will contain an offer you could never dream of refusing."

Zaheer's eyes widened. His life was about to find its meaning.