I've only recently ascended to be an Immortal. I still remember how angry I was at Immortals for not even extending a twig to people who desperately needed it. Not because I believed them to have an inherent duty to do so, but because we helped them become Immortals to begin with, only to be answered by an uncaring gaze when the Mirose hunted us down. 

Now I became one of them, and I slowly understood. 

You did not make it past a thousand years without some form of scarring. 

Immortals gain a lot of their power from the sheer millenias of experience they could draw on. Thus, a clueless immortal had no power. 

As the decades stacked onto themselves I met people who were good to me, and people who were bad to me. Obviously I had bad experiences with people who were my enemies, and the people I call my friends eventually turn old and die (or died of other causes). Just remembering the sheer amount of people I've met and forgotten makes me sad.

A fun moment under time's gaze turns into the cold past. 

And the best way to tackle problems was to bide time until the problems died. 

The moment I came to terms with that statement, my gaze turned apatheic like so many immortals before. No matter what action I take, death is the end that meets all. And I've become one.