Adolescent Princes of the Fire Nation argue over their differing views. (Ozai is closer to being a child while Iroh is closer to being a man.)
"Hah!" Ozai hissed as he sharply swung his left foot with a stream of flame towards Iroh's head, which he in turn swiftly blocked with his arm and said, "Good, but quicker next time. Sacrifice power for speed." Ozai repeated this action with varying body parts, shooting fire and aiming at different places, over and over again. Iroh, being better trained, considerably older, and an overall larger person, successfully deflected his little brother with each try without getting burned.
In exasperation, Ozai took a step back to catch his breath and wipe the sweat from his brow. Iroh rested as well, putting his hands on his knees. The other one took this opportunity and rapidly went for a jab to Iroh's neck, which Iroh almost fell victim to. Rather, he ducked and grabbed Ozai's hand to pull behind the younger one's back.
"-ah! " Ozai yelped, but Iroh still held fast through the wriggling. After a moment, Iroh chuckled and finally released his grip on the younger one's wrist.
"You're doing better, little brother. Nice try." Iroh rolled his wrists to crack them.
"I would've broken your arm if it was I who was in your place. You show too much mercy, Iroh." Ozai said with a smile. Iroh shrugged it off and reached for a nearby towel. He thought these sociopathic thoughts of his younger brother, even with a smile, were little more than childish musings. His brother was more immature than him, though they were in the opposite sides of the teens. Their father always valued Iroh's word over Ozai's.
"A merciful man is a good man, remember that." Iroh wiped off his sweat. "Also, another thing about your form. I was taught that the element of fire is most useful when controlled. You swing it everywhere, without a care. You could end up hurting yourself, brother." Iroh started walking out of the training room, gesturing Ozai to follow.
Ozai hurried up next to his brother and snickered, "Fire is meant to be struck out with! Quick, and without hesitation! It symbolizes power, something that there is no limit to!" his eyes gleamed.
They advanced down a hallway. Iroh pensively said, "The nature of fire is potential. Not raw power or energy, but rather the capacity it has. You have to treat it with the utmost care and balance. Too much care, it will be put out and you will lose your source of life. Too little care, it will destroy an entire village. Do you see, Ozai? Fire is the spirit of life itself."
Ozai frowned, "You won't defeat your enemy by caring about them…"
"No, but you must have a degree of care. Your people will not follow you if you are reckless!" a deep voice caught them off-guard from behind. It was neither boy's voice, but rather their aged father's, Azulon.
He was a man of perfection. His robe neatly pressed, his graying hair tightly tied back with no loose ends. His tactics as Fire Lord and a firebending master were also spotless; he mastered firebending at the age of eight, in his prime led Fire Nation armies in glorious battles, built the Great Gates at the Fire Nation border in his name, and nearly eliminated the Southern Water Tribe which, in truth, he was not as satisfied with.
The young men quickly scrambled to turn around and respectfully bow before their father, the Fire Lord. They rose as he began to speak.
"Ozai, you could learn a thing or two from your brother. He's been taught well. Come." he gestured his sons to follow him into the blazing throne room, where portraits of past Fire Lords proudly watch over.
Young Ozai glanced up at his father; he longs to grow up in his image, but is increasingly being repelled by his father's preference for Iroh.
Azulon sat in his throne, while Iroh and Ozai stood before him, awaiting another one of his lessons which they are quite used to.
"My sons. I did not bring you here to talk about these matters, but I will say this, mostly to Iroh: get the love of your people. Not for love's sake, but rather their loyalty is invaluable. For if you have the Fire Nation's loyalty, you will soon have the entire world at your disposal."
Iroh averted his eyes, not meeting his father's glance.
"Ozai, you are dismissed. My favored firstborn and I have to discuss marriage proposals, and his succession as Fire Lord. You don't matter nearly as much as he does." he snickered harshly.
Aaand that's the Azulon they're used to. Ozai bowed again, and silently left the throne room.
On the way back to his room, Ozai could barely walk normally from his body shaking. He hoped none of the servants noticed.
Once in his room, he barred the door, and blew flames into the fireplace. He sat on his large bed with his knees up. He couldn't help but let his eyes water, and his body continued to shake. Ozai longed for his mother's touch, a feeling that has almost been forgotten. Every now and again, he tries to remember what she was like before her death a good number of years ago, because he knew he was favored by their mother.
How could Father pick him over me?! I know he's the firstborn but...he's weak! He likes to drink tea and fold paper and meditate! Ozai frantically thought. His eyes caught sight of the paper turtle-duck sitting on the mantle that Iroh folded for him on his last birthday. Tears half-blinding him, he grabbed it and tossed it into the fire.
The all-encompassing fire mesmerized him, seeming to slowly devour the paper. His golden eyes glowed even more from the fire's reflection. The paper crackled under the heat, and Ozai, without thinking, imagined it be human bones instead of paper. The person's flesh cracking and melting in the intense heat , their voiceless screams for help...
He tore himself away from those thoughts and was almost frightened by them. The boy took his attention away from the fire to prepare for sleep.
In bed, his mind started to wander...I'm better than him...I'll teach my sons MY way, and they're gonna be the best firebending masters of their time..in the whole world..in the history of the Fire Nation…after me, of course. Then sleep took him.