TARAN ZHU

In the seven seasons that had passed from the last trial to this one, six members of the order had gone to their eternal rest. Four in their sleep, one in battle, the other succumbing to a long wasting illness. They'd all been older Pandaren, old enough to remember Taran's father leading the order.

His golden eyes flickered as he looked out over Kun-Lai's towering peaks. The mountains, clad in a new layer of snow, stood against the heavens. For the first time in a very long time, the sky was almost entirely clear of clouds, and the sun but a great orb of red that slid steadily towards the horizon. The stars began to show themselves in the east above the mountains, and the ever-present wind caused small snowflakes to blow off of them. Little more than diamond dust, really, it was a vision of Kun-Lai that the temperamental mountain climate seldom afforded him.

Taran made certain to treasure it. Night was on the way. When the sun rose again, ten Pandaren and one human would be full-fledged initiates of the order. No longer would they mere prospects; whoever they had been before, whatever kind of life they had lived…they would be Shado-Pan when the sun rose.

For the time being, he clad himself in crimson-dyed leather, a change of pace from the traditional uniform. These vestments were seldom seen, and only rarely broken out of the wardrobes of very accomplished members of the Shado-Pan. Clad in the regalia of a Shado-Pan Battlemaster, Taran regarded the setting sun with his golden eyes. Before it vanished beyond the peaks to the west, he took one long breath…holding it until the sun had passed beyond the mountains. His eyes closed as he pondered other things…this was the time of day when the world tended to make itself very clear to him, after all. Late afternoon to evening was when his mind functioned at its best.

There were lands beyond his own; he knew that. Pandaria had split away from the rest of the world thanks to Shaohao's sacrifice, and now, seemed so very distant from the rest of Azeroth. Few here were willing to leave all that they knew behind in this place to explore what lay beyond the horizon. Pandaren tended to remain landed here, content with what they had in life. Those who had adventurer's hearts were elsewhere…on a voyage that might never end, following the call of the ancestral wanderers.

In truth, there were times at which the same call had gripped Taran's heart. But his responsibility outweighed his desires. The last time he had spoken with someone who he had once desired to court, he finally came to a painful realization.

What I want…is not important, now.

Many lives hung on his word these days, and while he knew Snowdrift, Taoshi, and all the others of his order to be very competent indeed…Taran Zhu could not simply forsake his responsibilities. The Shado-Pan were his life. Still, there were times when he wondered how it might have been different. Perhaps he might have become a wandering swordsman in the same sense as Roronoa Zoro. Perhaps he would be one of the adventuring Pandaren of the Wandering Isle that those of the mainland learned about in school.

Perhaps not.

His eyes opened as he realized the sun had set. He'd held his breath quite a long time. On the other side of the lake within the Monastery's grounds, he made out figures lighting the torches. The worn stone paths his feet had walked a thousand times stood out against the darker rocks where Kun-Lai's mountain heart made itself apparent.

The call of a crane interrupted his further thoughts. Taran wished he could remain, but that desire lasted only a moment. He took one look towards the sky, full of twinkling stars and with a crescent moon hanging above the mountains, and then trundled towards the Great Hall of the Monastery.

RORONOA ZORO

This was the first time that Zoro had eaten in the company of the full Shado-Pan during his time here, and he sensed it would not be the last. The Pandaren were talkative, even the more serious ones, and more than one of the older looking Pandaren offered Zoro their sincere congratulations. They were happy to have another to serve at their side in days to come…even if that person was an outsider. Perhaps they'd been ordered to do so? No, that thought was one that didn't sit well with what Zoro had come to learn. Unlike the Marines of the World Government, where family could get you an incredible amount of status in the blink of an eye, the Shado-Pan seemed to be entirely based on merit.

He sat at the end of the table that the newly initiated Shado-Pan had been seated at. His drink was good, and his mug had been filled twice with the local brew…which frankly put sake to shame. He wished to be alone, but such a thing was not possible now.

Judging by the stares that were directed his way, he judged that wouldn't be possible in the near-future, either. The Pandaren were insatiably curious about him. Then again, if a being resembling them had landed on the deck of the Thousand Sunny, they'd likely have been pestered with all sorts of questions. The idea of some of Luffy's likely lines of reasoning made Zoro smile for a bit. As did the idea of his ever-voracious captain attempting to out-eat the much larger Pandaren…some of whom tucked away at their meals with a similar gusto.

A heavy paw patted him on the shoulder. He looked up and met the blue eyes of Lao-Chin, who grinned from ear to ear. "Enjoying yourself, I see."

"You could say that." Zoro kicked back as much as the bench allowed him. Lao-Chin walked away for a moment, then returned with a heavy chair in hand, which he positioned next to Zoro at the end of the table. The keg he normally wore on his back was lowered to the ground, and then Lao-Chin sat down.

"Another mug?" Lao-Chin winked.

Zoro tapped the side of his. "If it's a good one, certainly." His was rather empty…

The brewmaster took this as an invitation to take the mug and fill it with the keg he'd just removed, and within moments, a far frothier brew was produced. Zoro eyed it suspiciously…it didn't seem like any of that froth was dying down. When Lao-Chin returned his mug, the foam seemed even livelier. Zoro's skeptical eye continued, and Lao-Chin giggled, the noise seeming far too high for his enormous frame. "Go on, it's not going to bite you!" Zoro raised the mug to his lips and took a sip. It was hearty, far heartier than he'd expected, and if anything, the foam made the deeper notes of the brew come to life on his tongue. It was delicious indeed. The look on his face after his first sip made Lao-Chin's smile grow even wider. "You enjoyed that?" The brewmaster asked.

The human swordsman nodded in response and took another mouthful. "Ahhh…marvelous." He muttered. "You made this?"

"It's the best result I've gotten out of the hops this year." Lao-Chin answered him. "I might need to do something about the foam. It's a tad more energetic than my last batch." The brewmaster chuckled ruefully. "Though I am glad you liked it.

The dining hall of the Monastery, raucous though it was with the sounds of a great many Pandaren enjoying the evening meal, seemed to quiet. Then Taran Zhu stood at the front, right by the food, unusual red robes about his heavy figure and a great washbasin by his feet.

The booming voice of Master Snowdrift addressed the gathered Shado-Pan. "Would the initiates of the previous trial come to the front of the dining hall?"

Zoro looked to Lao-Chin, who gave him a quick shake of his great head. "He means the ones from the trial before yours. You will be called on…just not right away."

Roronoa Zoro nodded once and drew a long breath. Seven young Pandaren walked to where they had been summoned. They shed their boots as they arrived. This had to be some sort of ritual, considering how all seven bowed as they faced Taran Zhu. Zoro couldn't easily make out what was happening, but the Pandaren dining hall grew quiet as he could make out a faint splashing.

The human swordsman's eyes narrowed and he leaned back as much as he could. It looked as though Taran Zhu was kneeling, with one of the previous trial's initiates having both feet in the washbasin. He couldn't make out much else…but the Shado-Pan proceeded, one after another until they were finished.

Zoro sat up straight and looked to Lao-Chin, who had a knowing sort of smile on his face. The brewmaster explained matters. "The Lord of the Shado-Pan, whoever they happen to be, washes the feet of the initiates. Both the ones from the trial that just occurred, as well as the previous trial's initiates." Lao-Chin held a great paw to his chin. "The meaning is symbolic. Some initiates come here because they have nowhere else to go, and some come because they seek glory. But whoever they were before…"

"The washing makes them Shado-Pan?" Zoro murmured.

Lao-Chin shrugged his massive shoulders. "In a sense, yes. But it is also symbolic to the order that everyone serves, and that the Lord of the Shado-Pan is not above simple tasks…or more unpleasant ones."

"Such as cleaning off a bunch of Pandaren feet?" The green-haired swordsman chuckled.

Lao-Chin smiled. "You're getting quite the education."

Snowdrift's voice cut through the hall; anything further that Lao-Chin had to say in that moment was lost to the Blackguard Master's deep voice. "I present…Shao Heavypaw of Binan, Yi Barleybrew of Dawn's Blossom, Huo Ironpaw of Stoneplow, Jai Song of Stoneplow, Kao Mai Dawnfire of Zouchin, Anhairi Xiong of Zhu's Watch, and Hua Sie of Firebough Nook." The seven Pandaren stood, faced Snowdrift and Taran Zhu, and bowed once. "You have survived seven seasons within our ranks." Snowdrift declared. "May you survive many more!"

The rest of the Shado-Pan did not applaud. Instead, they stood almost as one from their seats, regardless of how much they had drunk or eaten, and faced the seven initiates from the previous year's trial. Then, as one, they clasped one hand to their palm and saluted swiftly. Zoro took his cue from one of the others.

Were there fewer initiates last year, or did the trial do a number on them as well? He suspected it was the latter.

The seven who had survived last year's trial returned to their seats, and all the others sat. Snowdrift cleared his throat once more. "Would this year's initiates please come to the front of the hall?"

This was Zoro's cue. Lao-Chin gave him an approving thumbs up. Clearly the brewmaster thought he had what it took…and any vote of confidence was something that Zoro appreciated.

Especially considering it wasn't that fool cook offering some sarcastic piece of advice...

Zoro did not fall asleep easily that night. The Trial hung in the back of his mind…the very real horror his captain was facing remained. As did Zoro's inability to help him here, for that matter…

His quarters were fairly standard. The room was small, and had a bed, a small closet, a small dresser with two drawers, and a nightstand of some sort on which a heavy candle was placed…one that gave off light, but very little smoke. The bed would be comfortable enough – the frame was stone and the padding seemed to give way to an extent. Then it firmed up. Zoro's eyes widened slightly at that. It stood to reason that after long hours of training, whether it was more active or more mental, that the Shado-Pan would desire a bed that would release the aches and pains. For Zoro, who constantly pushed himself to his limits on the Thousand Sunny and the Going Merry before that, aches meant he had worked hard that day…

The sheets were soft, and the blankets made from thick wool. He noticed that compared to the other initiates (who had the rooms near his own), he had three, compared to two for some. Perhaps that was because he was far skinnier than they were…Pandaren seemed to carry quite a bit of extra weight about the middle, and at times, Zoro envied them their padding. If nothing else, the mountains would put his cold resistance to the test.

The door was a screen that could be pulled shut and locked, not one of the swinging variety. Zoro sat on the bed and finally stretched himself out, pulling the blankets over himself. Before he angled his head to blow out the candlelight, he heard the noises of the screen door being opened and a throat being cleared. He looked towards the door of his small room to see the golden gaze of Taran Zhu. The Lord of the Shado-Pan wore his normal robes; the crimson variety he'd worn earlier having been changed out in favor of his standard blue robes. His hands…or rather, his dark-furred paws, appeared to be full.

"I hope I didn't disturb you, Roronoa." Taran Zhu stated in a low voice.

"You didn't, Taran Zhu." Zoro sat up immediately and swept his legs out so he could stand.

Taran nodded once. "The bundle on top is the parcel that arrived earlier. With all that had happened, I'd…almost forgotten to give it to you. It is not in a language that I recognize. Perhaps you will, however."

Zoro was anxious to see if that was the case, but he had a question that needed to be answered. "Where did you find this?"

"That was resting in the largest of the craters where you landed." Taran Zhu spoke quietly, such that his voice would not carry beyond Zoro's room. "The faces in those pictures…are not ones I recognize."

Zoro took it readily. "Thank you for holding onto it."

"Of course." Taran held one paw to his chin for a moment, the other clutching the other things that he carried. "Do you think there may be others in the future?"

"I can't say for certain." Zoro admitted. "Back home, we have…messenger birds who carry them. They're newspapers."

"Ah, interesting." Taran nodded once, a whimsical expression crossing his brow. "My people had such a system in our past. Who is responsible for these…papers in your world?"

"The World Government." Zoro said quietly. "They announce bounties, recent events, government announcements…"

"I see." Taran nodded. "Did they place a bounty on you?"

This gave Zoro pause. Taran knew he was a pirate, and his goal for being here…but had he not been judged worthy to remain? He closed his eyes and nodded. "Yes. And quite a bit. I suspect my past as a hunter of pirates gave them the reason to do so."

Taran's expression softened. "Coin is not and never has been a motivating factor here… Well, not for this order. Some join our ranks who are from very impoverished families, and attempt to join in order that their family's debts might be resolved."

That was understandable. One didn't become Shado-Pan in pursuit of coin…and that was true for Zoro. Though there was a small part of him that wondered if that girl had forgotten his debt (chances were she had not, very few things escaped Nami's and debts were one of them)…he was here to learn. Zoro cleared his throat and focused on the conversation. "Many do not live through your trials. What happens if a poor child attempts and does not survive?"

Taran let loose a long breath. "Whether they succeed or fail, the debt of their family is declared null and void. We return the body of the deceased…and send our condolences." Taran stepped to the window of Zoro's room and looked out on Kun-Lai's great heights. "The trial is as much as a time of celebration as it is one of grief."

"Why not change things, then?" Zoro proposed. "Your people have been at this for…ten thousand years? Surely you could not have found a better way of determining whether someone is worthy?"

Taran chuckled grimly. "Tradition is often…intractable, Roronoa Zoro. I cannot change the world overnight…and even my own order is stubborn and inflexible when it comes to our longest lasting traditions." Taran's voice trailed off, but he cleared his throat and spoke again in short order. "I am curious, though… What happens to the poor people of your world?"

Zoro froze on the spot. "Some never escape it. They remain poor all their lives. Some are…impressed into servitude by noble families." Taran's eyes narrowed in shock and disgust. Zoro sighed. "I saw that firsthand in Sabaody… Others join the Marines of the World Government because they have little other choice."

"And still others become pirates, yes?" Taran stepped from the window. The swordsman nodded hesitantly. Taran didn't laugh at this, but nodded once, solemnly. "Your world is what forged you…just as my world is what forged me."

Zoro closed his eyes and nodded. "Indeed."

Taran bowed his head. "You are welcome here, Zoro. This…is proof of that." The Lord of the Shado-Pan gestured to the remaining objects he carried. It was a black package, and he heard a faint jingling from inside. The other objects, Taran rested against the dresser, which sat in the corner of the room opposite the door.

Zoro gave Taran a glance, and Taran nodded to indicate that Zoro could open the package. When he lifted the top free…he saw a set of Shado-Pan armor, leather by the look and heft, with chainmail under the arms. The candlelight made the metal links of chain gleam.

"This is…"

"A uniform suitable for your frame, refurbished recently." Taran Zhu bowed his head once more. "I hope it is to your liking. I have Quartermaster Rushi digging through the laundry to find initiate garments that will fit you as well."

"Thank you." Zoro smiled and bowed. "I will take good care of this."

Taran Zhu smiled, though the expression wasn't easy to make out considering his height and the scarf he wore. "I have Rushi looking for a second in that size. It looks new, but it will need to be washed somewhat regularly; you cannot simply turn up for your lessons without one." The lord of the order chuckled. "Speaking of that…your first lessons will be with Hawkmaster Nurong on the day after tomorrow."

"When should I be there, Lord Zhu?"

Taran inclined his head towards his left shoulder. "Hmm…I suppose I should explain that. You are familiar with the bells and the gongs of the Monastery?"

"I don't think so. At least, not yet." Zoro admitted.

The Lord of the Shado-Pan folded both arms over his chest. "The gongs ring twice at sunrise. Two hours after sunrise, they ring three times. At noon, they ring six times. The passing of an hour is marked by the bell of the Snowdrift Dojo. The evening meal is marked by the gong sounding six times. At sunset, the gongs ring ten times. Does that make sense?"

Zoro nodded hesitantly. Taran didn't sigh or offer some sort of disgusted remark, instead nodding his head in return. "Feel free to ask any of the veteran members if you have questions. They will have red sleeves." Taran gestured to his own…then he bowed. "I wish you a good rest, Zoro."

"Good night, Lord Taran Zhu." Zoro bowed in return…feeling a stiffness at the back of his neck as he did so. It had been a long day…rest would be welcome. Then he noticed the newspaper, and as Taran left the room and closed the sliding screen door behind him, Zoro began reading the headlines…

BATTLE OF MARINEFORD ENDS, SETTLED BY FLEET ADMIRAL SENGOKU AND SHANKS

WHITEBEARD, FIRE FIST ACE DIE AT MARINEFORD

GOVERNMENT SPOKESMAN REACTS TO TREACHEROUS WARLORDS

BLACKBEARD AT LARGE – ANY INFORMATION WELCOMED

What the spirit had told him was true. Zoro felt a shock run through his gut. The Whitebeard Pirates were legends in their own right…losing both their famed captain and a formidable officer from their ranks at the hands of the government would be a devastating blow. They hadn't gotten to where they were without some losses along the way...

He didn't see any news of Luffy. If anything, the newspaper made certain not to mention him. There were any number of reasons for that…but no doubt, the Navy not wanting to be embarrassed by a false report was one of them. Before he closed the newspaper, he felt a chill sweep his body; one of the images capturing the devastation of Marineford had the unmistakable figure of Mihawk…viewing it from a distance, almost dispassionately.

Zoro lay back in his bed and let his mind clear itself. There would be time to sort this all out later…