Mischief
“Suddenly, to the elder’s astonishment I leant forward and did eat the flame he burned me with, as did my other selves one-by-one, so that my burnt hair and skin did grow back and begin to glow. My seven faces flashed like lightning, and my fourteen eyes flamed like torches. My countenance was as the sun itself shone in my strength. I turned to myselves and for the first time I did smile at myself, not the same wry smile as the elder, but an honest smile. I could not stop smiling, in fact. “Upon my head the name of Mischief”, I thought.”