As with any section of the Fire Nation the royal graveyard had an unspoken system that had served it well for as long as any could remember. Built on a hill, the highest point was always desired by each new ruler but was always unfortunately occupied. While unearthing a direct predecessor would be highly frowned upon- more distant ancestors were generally fair game.
It was therefore inevitable that close to every second generation the graves of the royal departed were rearranged under the cover of night to accommodate the current Fire Lord's eventual resting place.
Atop the hill, next to the gravesite of his grandfather and the furthest possible distance from his father's place of rest, stood a grand statuette of the late Fire Lord Ozai. The marble carving had been commissioned by the late ruler to ensure his visage survived his eventual demise and the slow hand of time.
It made no logical sense to the young girl that currently inspected the site- in her eyes the dead had little practical need for respect or awe.
As Azula stood silently in front of her father's grave she allowed herself a moment for reflection. During the moment she thought of what had been lost and what had not been gained.
The problem seemed obvious when she looked at it all with the benefit of hindsight. What real benefit would the subjugation of an unwilling world serve other than to artificially bolster egos? It was such a waste of time and effort.
And now he was petrified, turned to stone; her father, the conqueror. The obscene marble mockery couldn't even look her in the eyes- it instead gazed above her head, keeping her eternally out of sight.
The Princess knew that she had been left behind, forever shaped by a pathetic failure who was dethroned by a prepubescent 8 year old without any hair- pathetic.
He was so commanding in life, yet now he was the past- and the past was irrelevant. But he was hers, theoretically, and he had been stolen away from her. And while revenge against those who had wronged her could not be taken directly- 'directly' was hardly her preferred method of attack to begin with.
As her moment of reflection came to a close, the Princess realized that she was no longer bound to the past. The illogical and petty goal of global conquest, that had killed three generations of her predecessors, was over- gone.
It was time to break the chain, to evolve, to finally achieve true greatness.
She had finally freed herself of the insufferable arrogance and foolishness of her father and was now surrounded by nothing but opportunity. She had always been smarter,
quicker and more determined than all others- she had single handedly captured a stronghold that had outlasted 3 armies, 4 generals and 100 years of isolation. She had killed the Avatar, if only temporarily. She was a prodigy- a master.
Weapons were essential to war, and war was eternal. But she was no longer merely a weapon. She was a force, a commander. And as with any commander she needed weapons, enemies and victims. But first of all she needed allies. Fortunately enough she had been bestowed with the second greatest of man made weapons- guilt.
For the first time in her life Azula was utterly alone- bound to the desires of none but her own. The Princess walked away from her father- knowing now with absolute certainty that she wouldn't want it any other way.