So it is done

Invisible movers

Many people were able to distinguish between 'big' and 'small' victories and defeats among themselves, and such things depend on the individual. But no one would even try to equate the death of their family with a lost quarter. But, the difference between 'big' and 'small' setbacks was more blurry for people.

For the moneyless vagabond, the loss of a single crust of bread could mean starvation, while for the richest tycoon the loss of tens of tons of produce was only a 'minor' annoyance. There was no universal separator, no perfect parameter according to which one event or another could be universally divided for all people. There's no concrete divided between an incredible tragedy and a petty event that would not linger in their minds for longer than a few seconds.

Numbers might be a concrete descriptor, but even the value of one compared to millions are not equal. The death of a loved one, for example, is less heart-wrenching than reading that a village of thousands had died in a Grimm attack.

For the soldiers and civilians who died in the capture of Atlas and Mantle, for the desperate patriots of both states, for Robyn Hill, what happened in Mantle three years ago was a tragedy that broke their will. It destroyed their world, and turned their lives into a nightmare.

For Ozpin, the loss of Mantle was a small, unpleasant event that made him shake his head a little sadly, reflecting for a moment on not allowing anything like that to happen again in the future.

Ozpin, after all, was not perfect even now, hundreds of years later when he first became an Immortal. When his journey had just begun such events, his desperate attempts to become a politician, a savior, a ruler, such events happened to him constantly, every day.

In the end, Ozpin, and who he once was, Ozma – was a hero. A mighty warrior and mage, with a heart brimming with courage, compassion, and kindness. Politics were like poison to him, a most strange and terrifying dragon, with the only difference being that this dragon could not be defeated by any magic that Ozpin possessed. And yet, only through it could he save the most people he could, and so he dove into it head first.

His path in politics had been long, thorny, and extremely confusing. It was full of losses, disappointments, defeats... To tell the truth, Ozpin had never liked politics. He never really understood much about it, but even the dumbest of dogs could learn a trick after thousands of repetition.

What to say of Ozpin, who has spent hundreds, thousands of years in political squabbles and petty intrigue? Petty arguments, even when it existed at the highest levels of the rulers of this world's fates? After all, even though the repertoire of music was virtually infinite, there were only seven notes. The number of human psyches and personalities was manifold, but there was only a brief number of actions and an even more brief number of motives that people used in their actions. Whether it was in the political arena, or any other.

Countless tactics, but all battles boil down only to two things. Defending or attacking.

Sublime ideals, inferiority complexes, mercy, revenge, stupidity – politics was a product of the people, and therefore had at its core the same principles as all other human activities. And if for hundreds of years one continues to encounter these motives, the same actions and reactions, anyone can learn to see these motives. To learn to act within existing societies, to know and understand people, no more than a craftsman understands a broken appliance he has seen for the hundredth of a thousand times. Even with just sight alone, one would learn exactly where the breakdown is, how to fix it, and what exact action he needs to take to achieve the result he wants.

To a well practiced practitioner of their field, be it a politician, a plumber, or a doctor, even the simplest action would look like magic to the layman. His hands would deftly move, with the smallest amount of force, and the world would move, amazing anyone who saw their work.