I do not own ATLA, all rights to Nickelodeon.

Piandao

The sword master sighed deeply when he looked out over his estate. It had been many years since he had been in his homeland. He had to admit, he had missed being in the Fire Nation, he missed the people and traditions he had grown up with. He knew, traveling through the world, that many people thought that the Fire Nation was nothing but a bunch of volcanoes, but it was more than that. It had beautiful beaches, mountains, and forests.

But Piandao also missed travelling the world. He had seen much of the Earth Kingdom when he was in the army, fighting battle after battle, and winning each one. He had been a great soldier, and an even better warrior. His skill with a blade was unparalleled in the entire Fire Nation. He was born to two firebenders, both of whom were shamed and disappointed that their son was not a bender. The shame he had felt from his parents had only forced the young warrior to be great, to make up for his disappointment as a non-bender.

Eventually, he had grown tired of fighting and left the army, travelling the world as a lone warrior in search of adventure. He had learned under a number of masters, both benders and non-benders. Each one had left an indelible mark on the young swordsman, a lesson that he had carried on to the next master. Piandao had travelled from the Royal City to Ba Sing Se, and from the Northern Water Tribe to Kyoshi Island. He had even been to some of the Air Temples, which had long been deserted as the Air Nomads were wiped out at the start of the war.

After years of growth and learning, the young warrior had grown into a man of many talents and hobbies. He no longer felt the need to be skilled in just the blade, but also the brush. He had learned much about calligraphy and painting during his time in the Northern Water Tribe and used painting as a way to temper his wild heart. He had also learned blacksmithing from the city of Tu Len, a Fire Nation colony where Earthbenders and Firebenders lived in harmony. They created some of the best metal in the entire world, and was home to the best blacksmiths. It was here where Piandao learned the art of swordmaking, a skill that he had thrown himself into.

Now, he was home. He had bought a large estate using the money he had saved from his time in the army. He had moved into his new home and furnished it to his liking. It was everything he had ever wanted. A quiet home at the top of a hill with picturesque landscaping around it. He had even had a forge built so he could create his own swords. Everything was going well until the soldiers came.

When Piandao had left the army, he had had enough of fighting someone else's war. He was tired of being a pawn that was constantly thrown around. He had deserted, and for once, chose his own path. The local governor of the province had found out that Piandao was a deserter and had sent a hundred guards to take him in. Even though he was a deserter, he was still a renowned swordmaster. He had destroyed the small army the governor had sent to his new home, all with a single blade. It was that act alone that made the governor relent. He had decided that leaving the man alone would be the wisest course of action.

Piandao had just finished his lunch and was working on his calligraphy when his butler, Fat, had entered the room. Piandao looked up as his servant stood at attention. Fat had been in the war with Piandao and had pledged his service to the swordmaster. He was a humorless man who was a gifted warrior and was efficient with all that he did. He cleared his throat before he spoke. "Master, there is a man at the gate. He says that he is here to speak to you."

Piandao just raised an eyebrow. "See him in." he ordered. When his servant left, the young master returned to his writing. It took all his concentration usually, focusing on every brush stroke to make sure it was correct. To him, it was a lot like sword fighting. He had to focus on each strike, each cut, to get the perfect result. It required total discipline of body and mind. The only difference was that when he had a sword in his hand, that was when he was truly alive. He was totally in tune with his senses and surroundings. He could feel the blood racing through his veins as he prepared for combat. When he had a brush in his hand, it had the opposite effect. It soothed and calmed his fiery heart, letting him relax and release.

He had just completed another stroke when a gentle knock on the door let him know that Fat and the visitor were just outside. Piandao had set aside his brush and took himself out mentally of his work. "Enter."

The door swung open to reveal Fat, and another man. The visitor was a little older than Piandao, maybe ten years older. He had black hair that was fading to grey, but was still tall and strong. He wore his hair long and loose, gathered in loose braids in only a few places. He had a shaggy beard that was trimmed short. He wore blue and white robes that bore no emblem of who he was affiliated with. He definitely had the look of a warrior, that much was clear to Piandao.

The former soldier stood and bowed to the stranger, who bowed in return. He turned to Fat. "Thank you, that will be all." The man servant bowed and left quietly, swinging the door closed behind him. Piandao gestured to a cushion across from him. "Can I offer you some water?" he asked. The stranger simply nodded and took a seat across from the Piandao who was pouring a cup for his guest. The swordmaster took his own seat. "I assume you're not here from the governor." he said.

The man shook his head. "No." he said, his voice quiet and cool. "I am not here for him."

Piandao raised an eyebrow. "What is your name?" he asked. The man looked up, and Piandao saw a small fire there, something he had seen only in men who had a wild side that they had tempered. Some of these men were some of the greatest fighters Piandao had ever seen.

"My name is Serok. I am from the Southern Water Tribe." he said. Piandao's eyes went wide.

"The Hunter?" he asked. Serok simply nodded. Piandao couldn't believe it, he was in the presence of one of the greatest non-bending fighters to have ever lived, let alone come from the Water Tribe. Serok had earned his name when he had hunted down a polar bear dog that had killed one of his dogs. Normally, it would take a group of veteran hunters to take down a polar bear dog. Serok had gone after the beast with only a bow and a hunting knife. After he had slayed the beast, an incredible feat in it of itself, it was then revealed to him that he had killed a spirit animal sent by Avatar Kurok. It had been a test to see who the greatest hunter was. Ever since that day, Serok had been known as 'The Hunter' or 'Spirit Hunter'. Piandao bowed deeply. "It is an honor to meet you." he said.

To his surprise, Serok bowed back. "The honor is mine, young master. Your exploits and skill with a blade has made itself known far and wide. I am eager to see your skill." the great hunter said. "But right now, that will have to wait."

Piandao raised an eyebrow. "Why have you come here?" he asked. "I assume you did not journey to the Fire Nation just to see how I swing a sword."

Serok nodded. "Indeed. I am here because I have much to tell you, and a proposition if you are interested." he said mysteriously. Piandao leaned forward slightly, intrigued with what the man in front of him had to say. "I assume you have heard of the game Pai Sho?" Serok asked suddenly.

Piandao was caught a little off guard. "I have played it on occasion and won my fair share. Why do you ask?" he asked. Serok reached into a pouch on his belt and put something on the table in front of the skilled swordsman. Piandao recognized it instantly. "It is a White Lotus piece." he said confused.

Serok nodded. "Indeed. Do you know what is so special about the White Lotus piece?" he asked.

"It can interact with any piece and go anywhere on the board." Piandao answered instantly. "Why do you ask?"

Serok folded his hands inside his robe. "I will tell you why this piece is so important. But first, I need your solemn oath that you will never tell a soul of our conversation here today." he said seriously.

Piandao, seeing the look on the other man's face, nodded seriously. "I swear on my honor that I will never tell another being of what is said in this meeting."

Serok waited a moment, assessing the young master. When he saw that he was sincere, he continued. "When the world was anew, and nations were on the rise, a secret society was formed. This society was composed of both benders and non-benders, all of whom were masters of their respective craft. They took on the responsibility of passing down the sacred knowledge from one generation of masters to the next. Ensuring that the old ways would never die out. That society took on the name 'The Order of the White Lotus'. This group transcends borders and nations, not bothered by politics or any such idiocies. When the time comes, messengers are sent out to those deemed worthy of joining our secret ranks. I am one such messenger." Serok explained.

Piandao just looked at the great hunter, unable to process the information he had just been given. He did not know how to respond. "I am deeply honored." he said, choosing his words carefully. "But I can not help but feel that I am unworthy of such a status."

Piandao's words did not cause Serok to falter. "That is where you are wrong, young master. You are very worthy of this honor. Tell me, you travelled for many years throughout the world. Tell me your favorite part of each kingdom." Serok asked.

Piandao thought for a moment. "The sunrises at the top of the mountains in the Earth Kingdom were the best I've ever seen. They bathed everything in a golden light. The moon in the Northern Water Tribe was beautiful in the night sky. It was massive and seemingly omnipresent. I then knew why the people of the Water Tribe treated her as a goddess. When I visited the Western Air Temple, I was fascinated with the architecture of the upside down city. It's elaborate layout and structure simply amazed me. Finally, the beaches here in the Fire Nation are second to none. Especially Emerald Island, when the sun is going down and the breeze backs to the east. Everything is peaceful, serine."

Serok spread his hands. "There you have it. You did not talk about the might of the Earth Nation warrior, or the intricacies of waterbending or the power of Fire Nation vessels. You talked of beauty and nature, you spoke of truth. That, young master, is what separates the Order of the White Lotus from being just a group of old men with amazing skill. We enjoy and protect the beautiful and true in the world, acknowledging it for what it is and brings us. You already do this. You are worthy of being a White Lotus." the hunter said, taking a scroll from inside his sleeve. The seal was embossed with a white lotus. He handed it to Piandao. "This is a message passed down from our original creators, reminding us of our mission and purpose. Now. I will ask you this once." he waited for a second, causing Piandao to look up from the scroll in his hands. "Will you accept?"

Piandao looked down for a moment, then met Serok's gaze. His eyes as hard as the steel he had been taught to wield and shape. "It would be my honor."