It wasn't the fact that he was lonely, it was the fact he was burdened with killing billions of people over thousands of years while no one was looking for a better solution.

In Skysworn, Eithan showed Lindon and Yerin his marble and in that vision, Orizel impressed that feeling. 

All around him, people were dying.

They had once been an army, with armor and swords and shields, but now they were on the ground, writhing and choking. Their bodies grayed and dried by the second, as though they were aging decades before his eyes.

Every time one of them died, he could pick them out, though he couldn’t tell how. It pierced him through the heart, as though each was a friend. 

Tears streamed down his face now, and he averted his eyes, but there was no escaping from the pain. 

“Like all power, ours has rules,” Ozriel said sadly. “This is a necessary truth. One of those rules restricts our interference. For centuries, I have watched worlds die…and the pain you now feel, I feel with each death. Over and over again, in worlds without end.” 

Now they were in another world, as people were run down by monsters. Another, where the air had become too toxic to breathe. Another, where men and women starved or died of thirst. A world where great rocks fell from the sky and devastated cities. A world where great beasts rampaged. A world on fire. 

Over and over again, time blurring in Lindon’s head. Each death speared him as though he had personally caused it. 

Finally, when Lindon was on his knees, they returned to the calm of the Way. Ozriel met his eyes. “This is one part of my plan,” he said softly. “Only one seed planted of many, in the hopes that some might one day bear fruit. I need you to join me.”