(Thought I had better do this off the bat... Disclaimer: I do not own the Avatar character or the portions that are direct quotes.. Those belong to creators Michael Dante DiMartino and Bryan Konietzko, whom are geniuses!)

White Madness

That voice was speaking again, the same way it had come to her on the day of her defeat.

Standing before that mirror, alone and wretched in her vengeance against her hair, it was the latest victim of that day. Snatching the scissors off the table next to the mirror, she hacked and chopped the offending tresses. As they silently floated to the floor, she smirked in satisfaction. Nothing, not even her own hair, would ruin this day, the day when all she had worked so hard for would finally be handed to her, decreed by her father of course.

A shadow glistened in the dusty mirror, taking the form of the one person she despised more than herself.

"What a shame. You always had such beautiful hair." That voice called to her.

Taken aback for the moment, her look of surprise turned to one of anger. "What are you doing here?" She asked the apparition.

It smiled sadly at her. "I didn't want to miss my own daughter's coronation."

She scoffed at that statement, waiting for the biting remark she was sure would follow. When none came, she sneered back at the reflection. "Don't pretend to act proud. I know what you really think of me. You think I'm a monster." She spat, stamping down the foolish little voice inside her that agreed with that statement. She was no monster. So she knew what she wanted and how to get it. Some would call that ambition. How she went about it was rather ingenious, or so she thought.

"I think you are confused." The reflection countered sadness and a little guilt weaving through the voice. Perhaps she, or it, had finally realized the part it had played in the downfall of the happy little family they had once had. "All your life you have used fear to control people. Like your friends Mai and Ty Lee."

She bowed her head for a moment, her lips trembling. The pain of her friends' betrayal of her was still a fresh wound, and this voice reminding her only poured salt on the wound. Quickly she jerked her head back up, unwilling to show any sign of weakness. Which in her mind, feelings other than superiority was just that-weakness. This was something she could not and would not allow to ever inhabit her being.

A coarse smile lit upon her lips, turning her face into a mask of triumph. "But what choice did I have?" she yelled, quickly trying her back on the mirror and the image held within it. Her conscious pricked her, and yet she pressed on. "Trust is for fools. Fear is the only reliable way." Realization dawned on her as her hand brushed against her hair brush on the table.

"Even you fear me." After all, wasn't that why her mother had left in the first place? Wasn't it out of fear of her daughter who was too much like her dangerous father?

"No. I love you, Azula. I do." The voice argued kindly, trying to reach the heart of the proud young woman. Sadly, that heart had long before turned cold and nothing would alter the path she had set for herself. Not even the spirit of her mother, the reflection of the good she still held within her somewhere.

Lips quivering, she gave into her madness and clutching her brush in her hand, threw it as hard as she could at the mirror, effectively destroying it and the last bit of humanity inside her. Her screaming sobs soon followed as she sunk to her knees, loathingly admitting her heart had finally shattered with the mirror, laying around her, trapped in the shards of glass that now littered the floor.

Since that day, that voice had been silent, gone with all her hopes and dreams, shattered like that glass. Her defeat at the hands of the filthy water peasant and her own brother, coupled with her complete mental breakdown, had won her a place in history, and the fire nation prison that once housed her lousy uncle, and now her father as well.

Day after day, she sat, rocking herself in her own mindless solitude, listening for something. The guards only shook their heads as they passed by her cell, glancing in at the oddity the once fearsome princess had become. She was even crazier than her uncle had been, though most knew by now that had been a façade.

Her plight, however, was not. Unaware of the non-existent grip she held on a reality of her own making, she stared at the wall, tracing dirty fingers along the damp dingy walls. Laughing every so often about a secret joke only she and the rats knew, her life passed on by her.

Still she waited.

And now it had come back. Softly it whispered though her dreams at night, tickling her mind, tantalizing her senses. It wanted something. Something cruel and decisive. She listened and nodded. It was the perfect plan. Nothing would stand in her way, not even the thick prison doors.

"Azula. Darling. What have you done to yourself?" It asked in sympathy. She looked down at her hands, the finger tips bleeding from her constant scratching of the walls. Smoothing her hand through her straggly hair, she chuckle.

"I would think even you would be able to figure it out." She replied, the venom in her voice clear as a bell. "I lost." She bowed her head. "To Zuzu, of all people."

"No, you didn't lose. It was never your destiny to have the throne. Surly you knew that." It told her, sounding almost soothing, a healing balm. Azula laughed again, the sound like nails scraping down glass.

"Not my destiny? Not my destiny! All the planning, all the manipulating, and you say it wasn't my destiny." She sprung to her feet, only to fall back against the wall, her voice hitting a maniacal pitch. "It has always been my destiny. You were just too stupid and stubborn to see that. Always holding on to hope that your dear son would attain his prize, his right as the heir. And you see," she shouted, pointing towards the door. "You got your wish. Your deepest desire came true. Happy now?"

Mentally the voice shook its head and laid a caressing hand on her head. "You are right. Zuko was destined to have the throne, and as you found out, there wasn't anything you could do to stop it." It told her calmly, still fingering her tangled hair. "But fates have something much bigger planned for you. Haven't you ever wondered why you were able to master the art of the blue fire and the lightning, while Zuko never could?"

Her brows knit together, thinking back to their earlier days and the training they had both received. Zuko had struggled with the lessons at times, and was never able to reach the level that she had achieved. She, however, had been born a natural. Taking after her father's side of the family, she was a fast and fierce learner. It had pleased both her father and her grandfather that she was such a child prodigy, a master in the more complex forms. And she had used it to her advantage, more than once. The only time it had failed her lead her to her current situation.

Curious, she narrowed her eyes and leaned back against the wall, her arms folded in her usual defiant stance. "You may continue." She said.

"The two arts you have mastered are only small steps below the truly finally form of bending. Only one other flame burns hotter than blue." It told her. She cocked her head, searching the recesses of her mind, trying to remember the teaching she had learnt. Somewhere deep inside something nagged at her, a mention of a greater flame, the eternal fire.

"The white flame." She finally replied and congratulated herself. Her mind wasn't completely gone, apparently. Even her uncle, the great Dragon of the West hadn't been able to master that form. With that knowledge, she realized she could become the greatest fire bender in history. She gave a sharp laugh. Nothing would stand in the way of her desires.

And what she desired was revenge.

Then reality came crashing down. She sank back down onto the sullied prison floor. "How? How am I to achieve this?" She asked the voice. "And to what purpose? What do the fates want from me?" The voice caressed her mind once again, a loving kiss placed on her forehead.

"Your destiny shall be revealed to you when the time is right. Tomorrow they will move you from here to the Boiling Rock. It will be then that you make your move. For now, just rest. I am right here with you." It told her quietly. She nodded her head, closing her tired eyes.

"Yes, mother."

A/N:

After seeing the A:TLA movie (Sozin's Comet) for the fifth or sixth time, I am still so intrigued with the way they portrayed Azula and her mental breakdown...Especially the scene with her mother in the mirror. Hence this tale was spun. It actually will fall into 3 or 4 parts.. yes there is a madness to this motive.
I hope you enjoy and no flames please. I know there maybe some oocness. But bear with me. Azula will be back to her evil, insane self.