In the left mirror is the mother; to someone who will never connect with others, she is the ultimate expression of tolerance. She is alone and does not need to be partnered with a father, and she can play catch, fulfilling the traditionally male power role without surrendering to “masculinity”.



In the middle mirror is the usurper: he is the Earl’s antithesis. Lemongrab wants to connect with others even if he can’t handle their individuality. Lemonhope wants only to be alone, but he is easily loved and can accept things as they are even while abandoning the world. Without order Lemongrab will break down, but Lemonhope does not need order. The fear here is that Lemongrab is the lowest of the race he built.



The final mirror is internal struggle. The black Lemongab born into isolation consumes the white lemongrab born to be his company, eliminating the path to peace he had been on and replacing it with constant indulgement. The White Lemongrab was still a lemongrab, his view limited to seeing life through the lens of benign control, his control being benign because he was the one controlling. The doll lemongrab in the middle of this strife is the lemongrab that is warred over by light and dark and brought into being by sewing the two into one.

In the left mirror is naivety; this is the life the hero aspired for when he was young and unscarred by reality. Cinnamon Bun is a hero pure of heart who has never been touched by power or perversion. He has his princess and his passion, but it is hollow headed and uninterested in the wider world.

In the middle mirror is simplicity; this is the life before a quest greater than the self. These are the simple pleasures of the family, and a refusal of the call in favor of the greatest of pleasantries. There is no hatred there, but neither is there influence or legacy. There are only sweets and selfish contentment.The price for devoting your life to saving others is letting your own life go on without you.



The final mirror is actualization; the hero has already touched his true self and is not truly lost. He comes face to face with scale and fate and he relishes the experience.

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Matthew is not evil yet relinquishing the self is not always good, so the hero is helpless as the pilgramage implodes on itself. The egregore dies, leaving its disparate parts/people to attack the solitary pariah who has looked into the mirror and acknowledged the flawed truth in his features. Being grease is acceptable.

